Howdy, Trashies. Are you ready for this shit?
God, me neither. I can’t believe I signed up for this. But I also can’t believe I wouldn’t. For the uninitiated, Real Housewives of Dallas is one of Bravo’s next-gen Real Housewives iterations, introduced to us three years ago along with Potomac and slowly but surely earning its way into Andy Cohen’s horrid zoo of exotic beasts. Everyone slept on Dallas in its first season – including me – but a few rainy, hungover Saturday afternoons was all it took for someone like me to realize that this show and its horrible, horrible women were a treasure. A dangerous thrill. A treacherous romp through a pure, unadulterated rage, the likes of which hadn’t been seen since Teresa flipped that table all the way back in 2009 and froze our once feeling hearts.
Now, as Housewife mainstays like New Jersey and Atlanta and Beverly Hills start to grow stale, it’s the shameless, nothing-to-lose, so-much-to gain termagants in Texas and Maryland who start to take their place. Whose meme-worthy faces and words and existence take up more and more space in our psyche. Whose brazen whispers behind closed doors (which they very much want us to hear) are heard around the world as loud as sirens. These are the Karen Hugers. These are the LeeAnne Lockens. These are the Housewives for a bolder, crueler, far more ruthless realm.
I couldn’t be prouder to document their crimes for you.
So without further ado, let’s meet them (with this season’s newer, dumber taglines):
Brandi was a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader and will not let you forget it. She’s that enviable mix of sporty but girly, athletic and toned and perky, showing up everywhere with long shiny red hair and a pep in her step that seems to only be aided by the fact that she’s regularly laying her quarterback boyfriend (it’s also probably due to Adderall, which we’ll get to). Last season she struggled with losing a baby and swiftly withering ovaries, which is sad, but happily she also reconciled with her best friend forever for life…
Stephanie and Brandi are basically the same person so there’s not much else I can say about her that hasn’t already been covered with Brandi. Stephanie and Brandi are so close it’s basically part of their character profile, which is both endearing and kind of pathetic, but we’ve never seen two Housewives so intrinsically linked – not even sisters – not even Bethenny and Jill or Sonja and Ramona – so it’s still a novelty. She and Brandi like to joke about dicks and poop, frequently over enough margaritas to put a horse in a coma. They assume this is cute because they are both little women with little mouths and little demure voices. Stephanie is married to a big hulk of chuck meat named Travis, who plows over her at every turn, that is when he’s not plowing into her to create lots more male genetic copies of specimens not unlike himself. Last year Travis bought a house without telling Stephanie and there was nothing she could do about it. The reason he bought it was because there was a pool in the sharp-edged, marble-lined living room, young children be damned. This is both the staggering wealth and stupefying ignorance we’re dealing with, folks.
Cary is gorgeous and good and boring. There’s not much to expand on merely by Cary being the most normal one of the bunch, but that’s a cross one of these women have to bear, I guess. She gets in frequent arguments with both LeeAnne (more on her in a second) and her awful husband, Mark, who owns the plastic surgery clinic that Cary works at. Cary wants to spend more time at home with her daughter (the awfully celebrityish-named Zuri) and Mark acts like that’s akin to killing neighborhood pets. Lord knows why she is married to such a cretin.
D’Andra is a human version of those stark makeup diagrams you get at the L’Oreal counter in a 1990s department store. You know:
… but I can hardly blame her, considering this is her mom:
D’Andra is childless, but that’s understandable when you know the kind of exhausting, fettered indentured relationship she endures with her mother Dee, the owner of a QVC-friendly company that sells the same kind of cursed shit she slathers on her face every day. D’Andra is the most neutral woman of the cast, being the only one who will tolerate the show’s standout villain, LeeAnne. She’s married to a boring loaf of bread named Jeremy and feigns some sort of maternal instinct by complaining about his freeloading son all the time.
This. Bitch. I refuse to call her by her name. She will forever be This Bitch, in my brain and in my heart and in my soul. And in my recaps, too. So get used to it. This Bitch watched Legally Blonde for the first time two years ago and said: THAT. THAT IS WHAT I WANT MY LIFE TO BE. So she goes around screaming about how much she loves pink and diamonds and fucking one rich guy with a country club name (Court Westcott, gag me) till the end of time because the pursuit of personal happiness and self-respect is for DUMMIES who READ AND STUFF. This Bitch is insufferable. She makes blood ooze out of my ears and nose and eyes. Blood, everywhere. I have my period right now and I’m firmly convinced that This Bitch started it. She adopts the utterly dangerous, outrageously wrong philosophy that acting dumb will get you ahead in life, laughingly believing that such behavior works for her because she’s “actually real smart.” This Bitch is not acting dumb. This Bitch IS dumb. This Bitch has breathlessly embraced the rhetoric of a patriarchal, misogynist society and perilously celebrates it as feminist liberation. Fuck This Bitch forever.
Oh, and she has a pink dog food company. Which is as useless and brainless as she is. She loves dogs, and by “dogs” I mean those tiny eight-pound rodents that pass as dogs and don’t take up too much space in your ugly Louis Vuitton purse.
My Queen. My Idol. My Savior. LeeAnne Motherfucking Locken. I’ve only used “Motherfucking” in a legal Housewife name once before, and that was for Gina Motherfucking Liano, so yeah, it’s quite a distinction and not one that I dole out lightly. I firmly believe that LeeAnne Locken is one of the Housewife GOATs: a rare phenomenon that comes along once every very few years, someone so confident in her performance she almost seems like magic. She almost seems like God himself created her, just for this express purpose. She’s got everything. She’s a perfect embodiment of a Dallas woman, unshakably loyal to that hard-talking Texas redneck we’d expect from a show like this. Despite her beauty, she’s trash through and through, owning it with tales of her hardened childhood growing up in a family of carnies. And not only is she a villain, this woman is a walking execution sentence. This moment from last season will go down as one of the top 10 Housewife moments of all time (for context, she was talking about Cary’s husband):
For reference, Dick Sucked At The Roundup represented the THIRD time in only two seasons that LeeAnne literally, physically threatened to KILL SOMEONE. I mean you cannot write a woman this perfect and this petrifying.
But despite all that, she still manages to show her human side. She’s still just a woman with a house, with dogs, with a fiance, who with all of that normality to her somehow fares as just a person. A complicated, glorious, unbelievably awesome woman. This show really ought to be titled What LeeAnne Did This Week, but far be it from me to write a letter to the editor.
With all of that out of the way, let’s find out What LeeAnne Did This Week!
We open on some flippant B-roll of some of the ladies with their families. Since this is just the first 30 seconds the material’s really superficial but super educational when it comes to who these women are and the type of marriages and families they maintain: Mark is buying another year of contentious marriage with Cary through a new Porsche (which their toddler knows the word for). This Bitch is watching her daughter Hilton (what a rich fancy name! wow This Bitch do you like money) dance around a couch, calling herself a “First Lady.” Her husband Court asks the girl wouldn’t she rather be President? Hilton spits in disgust. Guess we know who this family voted for. Stephanie is having a meal with her two small boys and
large adult son husband, Travis. All of them are being rude and Travis blames the lack of manners on Stephanie, because women, amirite.
We finally land on Brandi, who is bouncing up and down in her interview chair because two weeks ago, she got a puppieeeeeeeeeeee! Oops. Sorry. I mean human child. It’s hard for Brandi to tell the difference.
I mean seriously:
So, here’s the deal: last season one of Brandi’s storylines was one of those really boring but sad ones; it revolved around a miscarriage and Brandi’s rapidly deteriorating fertility. And that sucks! But luckily, a few weeks ago Brandi’s best friend Stephanie – who knows a guy who runs a quirky tenement filled with raggedy orphans – texted Brandi and said “look! a baby with no owner! you want it?” and Brandi was like, “score! free kid!” and the kid was like “damn OK whatever!” and then Brandi and Stephanie and the owner of the adoption agency met at the parking lot of a Kohl’s and the adoption guy gave Brandi a baby and then she forked over $30. Or something. I don’t know how adoptions work.
Brandi was extra psyched about the whole thing because the baby was a boy (which her husband was jonesing for) and a redhead with green eyes, just like her. The obnoxiously social justice warrior part of me can’t help but wince at that, since there are a jillion babies in the world that need adopting who aren’t white boys that look like rich white couples, but whatever. Brandi thought it was kismet and I’m not going to shit all over her happiness and wonder.
We move on to LeeAnne, who last year was pummeled at the reunion with a pseudo, hate-filled intervention about her anger management problem. The girls all spat and hissed that they “wanted her to get better,” so I dunno, here’s LeeAnne getting better. Walking into a yoga studio and up to the cashier and saying ONE PEACE OF MIND TO GO, PLEASE! She’s not feeling crazy about this at all:
She’s meeting up with D’Andra, a human kaleidoscope, and some crunchy granola 40-something dude with a balding head AND a manbun (lovely combination) who probably legally changed his name to the Sanskrit word for rocks.
Kidding. But his real name isn’t all that better.
David says that’s his actual last name. Sunshine starts to blow out his ass, so you can tell he ain’t fakin. LeeAnne loves the name and muses that if she were named “LeeAnne Sunshine” she’d probably start petting kittens and kissing babies instead of what she does now, which is physically menace people for looking at her wrong since her last name sounds like someone cocking a gun.
David brings the ladies into his studio and says stuff like, “take a seat on my zazus and zoombas and feel the energy of all this hassamanana hakuna matata,” which is a fancy way of saying sit your ass down on these cushions and do nothing:
David asks why the ladies are here and LeeAnne starts telling this story about her larger-than-average amygdala, the walnut-sized part of your brain that deals with emotions. I guess LeeAnne’s must be the size of a grapefruit considering how often and how easily she loses her shit, and she explains that it’s so big because she was abused a lot as a kid. Hopefully meditation will help shrink it, she thinks.
In her interview, D’Andra starts cracking up, because “it’s not your amygdala, honey, it’s you.”
Sunkist or Starburst or Suburu or whatever his name is bangs on a big copper bowl and tells the girls to close their eyes and mentally play through a montage of all of LeeAnne’s most frightening stunts on this show, like her shattering wine glasses and threatening to strangle people. And wouldn’t you know it? It works! LeeAnne is a Good Person now! Hurray. What a great season of Real Housewives of Dallas.
Stephanie meets Brandi to go baby shopping, which makes absolutely no sense since Brandi’s had two children in the past five years and recently planned to have another, so god knows why she wouldn’t have everything she needs, but whatever! Baby fever! Symptoms include bawling like an idiot in the middle of an upscale baby boutique:
Stephanie stares at the baby and says, awe-struck, “he looks just like you! he looks like you had him!” and again my heart winces a little for all the adopted mixed-race families, just a little. But Bruin (god I hate that name, it is literally a sports team) is still super cute and I love the “what in the ever-loving fuck” way he gawks at Stephanie:
How many red-headed babies did you kill to make that coat and should I be nervous.
Brandi and Stephanie talk about boring mom stuff like Bruin’s schedule and since I’ve had a lot of practice at work with things like this, I know how to tune it out. But I did catch that Brandi wants to keep her new son a secret, at least for a while.
D’Andra and her husband Jeremy go to a tasting for their upcoming FOURTH wedding anniversary party. If you’re wondering why in the world these two are throwing a party that requires a tasting ahead of time, a) same, and b) it’s because D’Andra and Jeremy decided to do something big and expensive and gaudy every year! because it “keeps them honeymooning.” And also because divorces in Dallas are apparently so common that “four years is like a life time!” Jesus, that’s grim.
By D’Andra’s logic, two of my relationships would have translated to a successful Dallas marriage. Cool.
They taste a bunch of fancy shit since “a D’Andra Simmons event is a first-class experience all the way.” Snort. My favorite thing on the menu is also Donald Trump’s: a steak with french fries and ketchup. LOLOL forever.
First-class. All the way.
As D’Andra and Jeremy go over the guest list, D’Andra bites her lip over the thought of inviting her mother, Dee, aka Madam, to the event. We learn that despite “handing the keys of the business” over to D’Andra last year, Dee has reneged on her decision, stayed firmly in charge, and maintained a contentious relationship with her daughter. They’re not even speaking now.
I love how she looks like a mob boss in this shot and I love how they imply how her business has a literal key.
Bla bla bla, more stuff about D’Andra being too scared to stand up to her mom for fear of losing her, and welp, I guess that’s D’Andra’s storyline this season. Which means more of Dee, which I’m totally cool with. Because damn, that creature is SOME. THING. to look at.
Over at This Bitch’s house, she has gathered her family in their very stately Princess Room!!! to talk serious Girl Business – namely, This Bitch’s pink dog food line, Sparkle Dog. Court definitely loves this life.
Good god I cannot stand this woman. She interviews, per usual, that most people (read: everyone who’s not blind deaf and dumb) look at her and think she’s this “dumb Barbie who loves pink,” but she’s like, RULL SMART, YUH GUIZE. She’s so smart that she was actually planning on moving to New York and getting a Master’s degree in textiles before she met Court’s family and realized that being a kept woman was like, way easier and junk.
This Bitch shows her kids all of her brilliant business ideas like buying herself a tote bag with “Sparkle Dog” written on it in rhinestones. Court tepidly suggests that maybe she should focus on more constructive stuff like growing her retail presence. This Bitch just rolls her eyes and says “I have enough!” and then does that awful thing where she addresses her husband by way of talking down to her kids, like “Daddy thinks I should shut Sparkle Dog down!” and “Daddy sleeps in a separate bedroom because Mommy is withholding!” and “Daddy is quite very soon going to serve Mommy some papers with some big words she doesn’t understand on them because Mommy thinks this is a constructive way for two adults to have a serious conversation! What do you think of that, honey?”
Court then leverages the kids as well by asking them if they’d rather have their mom around “to cuddle” instead of having her work all day, so I dunno, maybe these two shit heels deserve one another. Their son puts an accurate, telling period on the conversation by screaming at the top of his lungs: “this is AW-KWARRRRRRRRD!”
From the mouths of babes.
LeeAnne is going suit shopping with her fiance, Pirate Rich.
Rich lost most of his vision in his right eye and insists on wearing a patch, which LeeAnne hates and I don’t disagree with her. Also, how is he allowed to drive? Anyway, she says that D’Andra’s upcoming anniversary party will be the first time she sees all the ladies. “Girls keep track of that stuff, don’t they,” Rich drawls.
Well, Bravo keeps track of their cast and filming schedules, so these girls do, yes.
LeeAnne’s nervous about being in the same room as Cary ever since that whole amazing Cary’s husband gets sucked off by other men and I will literally choke her to death thing. Rich just scoffs and huffs in that cavalier Real Househusband sort of way and suggests LeeAnne just call Cary and invite her to coffee or something ahead of time. So LeeAnne does just that. The phone rings a bunch of times but Cary finally picks up, and LeeAnne goes “hey girl!”
Very long, very pregnant pause.
“Uh… hey girl,” Cary says flatly in response. LeeAnne:
LeeAnne comes out with her proposal and Cary’s all um, er, uh, OK, whatever, let’s do coffee. They get off the phone and LeeAnne explains to Rich that she understands why Cary would be reluctant, to which Rich jokes:
Ha. I like Rich.
Brandi and Stephanie meet for pedicures.
Brandi is REALLY trying to play up this whole “new mom with no time and no care for personal appearance thing oh and also I need to bring my baby everywhere” thing this episode.
Wow, sweatsuit, Uggs, and a beanie. You must be strapped!
Stephanie says that she’s sorry that Brandi won’t be at D’Andra’s anniversary party; Brandi says she’s psyched not to be there. Apparently she now hates D’Andra since D’Andra said Brandi had “squinty eyes” and alleged on a podcast that she abuses Adderall.
Brandi’s also glad to be avoiding LeeAnne, who she said she had “no future” with on last season’s Reunion. Stephanie agrees; she is horrified by the (awesome) way in which LeeAnne attacked Cary’s family last year. Stephanie interviews that LeeAnne has a tendency to scare her, and she hopes that she’s still in therapy. Stephanie and Brandi say that the only “BS” they want to deal with is Brandi & Stephanie.
Cary meets up with LeeAnne at a chintzy-looking diner. She’s still wearing her scrubs and orders a latte, plus biscuits and gravy “to go.”
LeeAnne, meanwhile, looks like some terrible stepsister of both the witch from Narnia and Cruella DeVil.
Cary admits in her talking head that she hasn’t seen LeeAnne in months since she doesn’t traipse around Dallas going to ever god damn charity event, like LeeAnne does. LeeAnne opens by saying that she wants to see “where she and Cary are at” ahead of the anniversary party. Cary says that she’s still hurt and isn’t ready to be friends with LeeAnne, but she does want to get to a place where she’s no longer nervous to run into her. LeeAnne responds that the two of them have been going through their shit for three years, and a belligerent harpy with an axe to grind against Cary is not who LeeAnne wants to be.
Cary says that LeeAnne’s “actions speak louder than her words,” but she doesn’t want to talk about those actions because (Housewives Bingo slot) she doesn’t want to bring up the past. LeeAnne says she’s “genuinely sorry” and she wants to move on and for the sake of their mutual friends, she wants to be on good terms with Cary. Cary agrees that she wants to be able to exist in the same room as LeeAnne sometimes – without fearing for her life – but when LeeAnne asks for something more like lunch, Cary says she’s “not there yet” but will continue reevaluating her state of mind. One thing Cary is sure about is that she’s finally going to start being honest about her feelings towards LeeAnne, and LeeAnne appreciates the fact that Cary refuses to smile and be fake when things are seriously upsetting her.
The conversation evolves into an actually constructive, candid one, and Cary softens enough to just eat the damn biscuits and gravy at the table (since the waiter, Starburst’s brother, ignored the “to go” part of her order). Now that Cary’s trapped, LeeAnne asks about her work schedule and that whole contentious part-time versus no-time fight Cary’s been having with her husband Mark.
Cary explains that Mark was right when he guessed that Cary would “blow her brains out” if she were a full-time mom, so now she’s running the new laser center in Mark’s office:
She’s pretty content with her life because she’s both the boss at work and has the “autonomy” of spending mornings with her daughter Zuri. Cary and LeeAnne toast to One Day At A Time in all things, including whatever is left of their friendship.
tfw when you’re totally lying weeeeeee
OMG, look, it’s a unicorn: D’Andra’s face without 430 layers of shellacked makeup:
“This is what my face will look like in four hours, what do you think?”
She’s holding up a truly fug dress for her family’s approval. Because this is an ever-important, ever-impressive fourth anniversary party, she and Jeremy have flown in their whole family, including Jeremy’s parents, son Koen, and niece Addyson, with whom D’Andra seems to harbor a very strange obsession. Like…
I don’t get it.
Is she funny or something?
Also, where are that kid’s parents? Why is she here alone? Anyway, D’Andra tells the whole group (which remember, include Jeremy’s son and 11-year-old niece) a story about Jeremy’s mom dragging D’Andra to the upstairs of the house and demanding that D’Andra have sex with her son now. Jeremy’s mom is all:
Despite the fact that Jeremy begged her not to regale his young, impressionable family members with this sordid tale, D’Andra just goes onandonandonandon about it (finishing with a “mission accomplished!” and high five for Jeremy, gross) because Jeremy’s family is super cool and not bitchy like her mom. So she can’t help but be gregarious and gratuitous in front of them.
On the way to D’Andra’s party, LeeAnne does some more self-actualizing with Rich in the limo, sighing out how she just wants to be happy with them and their dogs and their friends and their… wedding. Rich chokes.
Then she says “let’s get married!” and he chokes some more:
The face of commitment
LeeAnne interviews that she’s been facing a lot of external pressure to set a date and get married already, but she’s not pushing Rich since he’s been married THREE times already. Promising!
D’Andra and Jeremy roll up to the gaudy mansion that’s hosting their party and D’Andra immediately gets to work resetting the seating arrangement:
I know they said they like to do something “special” every year but does it really need to be THIS special? Does everyone in the world REALLY need to experience all this specialness, or can’t they just keep it to themselves? Honestly, this shit is like a wedding on its own: there’s a high school friends table, a business friend’s table, LeeAnne’s table (she gets her own table because LeeAnne), a gay pride table (seriously)… I mean cripes.
Brandi texts D’Andra at that moment to tell her she’s not coming which seems pretty fucked up knowing, as we do, that Brandi was planning on missing this for a long while. D’Andra doesn’t get why Brandi’s ALL PISSED AT HER, WHUT.
As the guests pour into the house and drinks spill into the glasses (for real, there was a very prolonged cocktail montage here and then I started to get chills and shakes until I poured myself some more wine), we’re reminded of what D’Andra looked like on her wedding day:
The chills come back when DEE arrives, looking understated as ever:
D’Andra says that since she and her mom are “Texas women,” aka, fake bitches, they show up to anything with a big “Texas smile” (aka, brain-melting joker grin) on their face and pretend nothing’s happening.
LeeAnne shows up in a very confused look, which blends a sparkly plaid gown and a shiny sheer bolero shawl and a leafy Grecian filigree hair piece. Like, what is going on here.
A whole lot of nothing good, that’s what.
Dee tells her date Bo that she was engaged 14 times…
… and then Bo sets a reminder on his phone to get a blood test after this party.
Don’t worry Bo. The Housewives have done worse than 14.
This Bitch thinks it’s as weird as I do that D’Andra is throwing a fucking gala for her fourth wedding anniversary.
But maybe I’m underestimating her because it does appear that she knows how to do basic multiplication:
Either way, Dee is still back in the corner, being as supportive as any mother should be, proving D’Andra and her hangups are like totally wrong, LOL!
As the ladies all collect around D’Andra, similarly marveling with her how amazing it is that she managed to stay married for four years, Dee pokes her head into their circle like a rooster to snap some question at D’Andra, very obviously trying to interrupt her conversation, but swiping kindness over her face in a flash when the ladies all breathe out a “hiiiiiii!” at Dee. She starts hamming it up with them, telling them all she should be their mama.
LeeAnne and Cary hump each other and everyone is very confused.
It is weird that they’ve gone from “let’s be cordial and not shiv each other” at a diner to this, which is practically two horny teens in a Shakespeare comedy, but oh well. I sort of dig it. And of course you can expect this to mean that LeeAnne and Cary will be back to hating each other in like three episodes. I can’t wait!
Dinner is served and OMG LOL they went with the Trump Special:
Stephanie realizes with terror setting in to her marrow that she is seated next to LeeAnne:
At least there’s a very loud blazer on the other side of her, distracting her train of thought with something shiny.
LeeAnne couldn’t care less though; she’s more upset that “DAYNDRA” misspelled her name on her place card:
And even though the gaffe is pretty offensive, it does break the ice with Stephanie since it gives her something to laugh about with LeeAnne.
It reminds me of that scene in Hocus Pocus where the Sanderson Sisters have trapped the little girl in the shitty witch costume and make terrible jokes in front of her and the little girl just laughs and laughs and laughs, hoping that her good humor will spare her eyeballs from being plucked from her skull and dropped in a big cauldron of bubbling, boiling green goo. That’s what Stephanie’s doing right now.
As Dee starts barking orders at her daughter before her toast…
(Christ on a cracker that’s a shitload of eye makeup for one frame)
… LeeAnne is rallying up her “fun table” and… actually getting along with Stephanie, question mark? explanation point!
D’Andra pats herself on the back for seating them next to each other and rightfully assuming that they’d have fun without Brandi around. Which isn’t so much an indictment of Brandi herself but rather the airtight cliquey-ness of Brandi and Stephanie together. Stephanie interviews that LeeAnne is being “so nice” tonight, and reasons that she misjudged her because of Cary and Brandi’s perennial conflict with her. She confesses that she’d like to “move forward” with LeeAnne.
So would I, considering that LeeAnne and I act the exact same way at fancy dinners:
It’s a vintage Babylegs blend.
Cary just thinks Stephanie’s good mood is because she fuckin LIT, but she admits herself to This Bitch that she had a great conversation with LeeAnne and feels like “a weight has been lifted.”
This Bitch gets “geeeewwwwwws-bumps!!!!!“:
Then, OMG, who dis man:
He looks like a homeless person who invented his own militia and named himself the general. How does he own this shamillion dollar home.
He invites some random Friend Of up to the mic, who announces to LeeAnne and Rich that they’re GETTING MARRIED! TONIGHT!!!
Rich looks stoked, you guys:
His “stoked” face is also his “please drive a bamboo shoot in my ear and deep into my brain” face.
The crowd hoops and hollers and throws champagne all over the tables in a manic uproar. LeeAnne is ecstatic, giggling and beaming and gawking out surprise, but eventually she wises up and becomes Not A Monster, asking Jeremy at the mic to “save” Rich.
The episode ends on a very Potomac-friendly “to be continued” chyron:
… and that’s it. That’s all we see. An uncomfortable man, squirming in his seat, grimacing through his eye patch, praying and bargaining with god that the woman next to him will show him mercy. And blessedly, she does. Because for all her talk – all of her grandstanding and growling and laying waste to the world around her – maybe she’s not so wretched. She’s not bad. She’s just drawn that way. And life? Life is about to get good.
Next Week: Brandi shows up to the party. Surprise, I guess.
LeeAnne is pissed, but D’Andra is the one Brandi really came for.
There’s some weird shit about Stephanie and a surrogate and how it relates to Brandi? idk.
And D’Andra says “shit” in front of her mom and I guess that means she’s excommunicated.
Strap on your falsies and get back on that bronco, Trashies. Dallas has returned and it’s time to giddyup.
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