As you all know, my guilty pleasure is the Real Housewifes of....well, anywhere. One of my favorite cities is Beverly Hills, and I've found that I have a certain kinship with Brandi Glanville. It's hard not to have respect for someone who (like me) speaks her mind all the time. Someone who (like me) gets in trouble for speaking her mind all the time. And who (like me) cuts through all the BS. The only difference between Brandi and me?
About a foot and a half and a hundred pounds.
But.....I'm still sure we'd be BFF's.
Anyway...so I preordered her book, and started reading it around midnight last night. Yes, I'm a dork. But we all know that I'm going to be up reading that time of night, why not read a super hilarious autobiography about a six foot model whose husband left her for a ridiculously fugly country singer, then went on to find more success than he ever could? I'm a sucker for a happy ending. *sniffle*
Do me a favor...grab a copy. It's funny. And oddly uplifting. I'm having fun with it.
Plus.......don't pretend that you don't want to read all about the whole LeAnn Rimes melodrama. Liar, liar, pants on fire.