The Real Housewives of... HOUSTON?

Yes, believe it. The time has finally come. Rumor has it that casting directors have narrowed it down to about 5 women thus far. It has not been stated when filming will begin once these women are chosen, which only means one thing: I've got to go buy a new little black dress and parade around the Houston social scene like it's no one's business. 

Being the awkward, wall-eyed stalker in the background of 5 solid episodes would simply be a dream come true. I've gotten to a point in my life where I have absolutely no shame left- let the stalking begin!

To see pictures of the narrowed down selection of candidates, click here. Immediately.

Jeff Bagwell's wife, Ericka, was a candidate who is no longer listed in the latest update of finalists. I would have really liked to see her on the show since I spent my childhood playing "house" where I would tirelessly raise Jeff and I's twin daughters. They even made laughing and crying sounds, but mostly laughed since Jeff and I were such good parents and we were so happy together. It would have been interesting to see if Jeff's current lady holds a candle to what I brought to the table back in the day, including my Easy Bake Oven specialties that were to die for. Guess I'll just have to keep the faith that no one could compare to my domesticity and undying love for that bat stance.

Crystal Wall, however (yes, the wife of rapper Paul Wall), is in the running all of a sudden. What the shit? Great. If Kim from Atlanta released "Tardy for the Party" (which truly is a classic) and that plastic man Danielle Staub is now doing duets with her new lesbian lover, you can only imagine what Crystal has up her sleeve. Whatever song she decides to release, I'm sure it will make all Houstonians proudly embarrassed.

I'll be keeping a close eye on all you broads. Even if you're a bunch of dirty bitches, I'm still stoked that H-Town will eventually be featured on one of the greatest trash shows ever. 

Make me proud, gals. And please, please, don't have nasty, twangy country accents- talking like that really is grosser than all of your vaginas combined.