She’s the brutally honest breath of fresh air on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, known for her dramatic divorce, her barely-there clothing, and her inability to keep her mouth shut. So why should she change now? Brandi Glanville tells all in this hilarious, no-holds-barred memoir. Fans have been waiting for Brandi’s scoop on one of the biggest divorces of the decade, since her husband of eight years abandoned her and their two sons to marry country singer LeAnn Rimes. Not only does Brandi spill the beans about her side of the split, the lovable housewife shares the incredible wild ride that took her from a life in the ghetto to Hollywood’s most elite circles. For the first time, Brandi talks about how she escaped a rough neighborhood on the outskirts of Sacramento and stumbled into a successful modeling career that swept her into a world of Paris Fashion Weeks, private jets, and uncircumcised penises. Before she knew it, Brandi was the perfect Hollywood trophy wife—at least until her marriage exploded. Today, the refreshingly filter-free housewife and unapologetic mom is the newest full-time cast member of Bravo’s juggernaut franchise, where she often elicits raised eyebrows and gossip from her costars for her refusal to be the scorned ex-wife, to be bullied, to change her sarcastic sense of humor, or—on most occasions—to wear a bra. Sassy, raunchy, and compulsively readable, Drinking and Tweeting perfectly captures Brandi’s open-book attitude, as she dishes about everything from her DUI, her cheating ex, her one-night stands, and the secret plastic surgery that made her “seventeen” again. You’re sure to enjoy every page of this funny, upbeat, honest tale. Clear your schedule for an afternoon and grab your favorite cocktail, a comfy seat . . . and maybe a Xanax. But that’s for later. "Is there a Pulitzer category for memoirs by jilted reality stars who like to talk smack about ex-husbands and "bonus moms?" Because if so, this book should win it... The best piece of celeb literature we've ever come across."--Ali Trachta "LA Weekly.com " Brandi Glanville officially joined the cast of Bravo’s The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills in season three and quickly became the show’s most outrageous breakout star. She lives with her two sons, Mason and Jake. Drinking and Tweeting CHAPTER ONE If He Walks like a Duck and Talks like a Duck . . . Then He’s a Pig People always say, “Don’t panic.” Really? Who are these people? I discovered that my husband of eight years was banging every short skirt—and wide back—in Hollywood after seeing it on the cover of a celebrity-gossip magazine, but I’m supposed to stay calm? I’m supposed to eat shit with a fork and a knife and say thank you when I’m done swallowing this crap? Fuck off. I’m here to tell you that if your husband, wife, boyfriend, or girlfriend is cheating, life, as you know it, is over. It’s the God’s honest truth, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either completely blowing smoke up your ass, a lawyer, or my ex-husband. It’s actually quite the contrary. It’s time to freak the fuck out, and that’s not just acceptable, it’s obligatory. The rug has just been pulled out from beneath your feet, and everything you thought you knew with absolute certainty has vanished. Absolute hysteria is just the beginning—you’re about to embark on an entire roller coaster of crazy-ass emotions. So I, Brandi Glanville, am here to bestow this simple but valuable piece of information on you: if you discover your partner is cheating, drink like it’s your last party, blame everyone else for your problems, let “binging” be your new favorite hobby, and, by all means, FUCKING PANIC. It was a cold, sunny morning the day my world fell apart. Sure. There were signs. Like, what man has baby wipes in the center console of his Porsche? Please, like he ever changed a diaper. It’s not a science, but I’m pretty certain my husband was getting more than his fair share of roadside assistance. But, as the saying goes, ignorance is bliss: I had a beautiful, six-bedroom home in Calabasas, a full-time nanny, a brand-new Range Rover, an $11,500 boob job, two wonderful little boys, and a gorgeous Cuban husband. And I was the perfect little Hollywood housewife. Yes, the writing was on the wall that my husband was far from perfect, and, yes, every so often my curiosity would rear its head, but I chose to ignore it because life was good—plus, even if I believed it, I couldn’t prove a damn thing—in fact, it was great. So when reports of my husband’s infidelities became national news one fateful March morning, I was the lucky recipient of the world’s biggest gut punch. (Both Sandra Bullock and Elin Nordegren would soon follow my lead—let’s just say Eddie’s lucky his golf clubs weren’t handy.) It was just your typical Wednesday. Like clockwork, a sleepy-eyed Mason wandered into our bedroom just before five in the morning. Who needs an alarm clock when you have a six-year-old? And just