Happy Mother's Day!

Mother's Day is Sunday. If you planned to shrug it off and just shoot your mom a quick text, here are nine reasons to change your mind. By the time you get through this list you'll FaceTime your own special lady while sobbing apologetic tears, thanking her for every sandwich and snack she ever made you. These disturbing women make even the most mediocre mom shine like Sally Field in Steel Magnolias. Now wipe that schmutz off of your face and let's get started.

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In town for Frightmare Weekend, Tarantino's muse, Michael Madsen, popped by CBS today. He chatted about his career, projects and why Frightmare Weekend is going to be amazing (you've got until 3 p.m. to try to win passes here), but he also ruined the weather report ... awesomely. I like how "over it" traffic lady is at the end. Check it out.

Am I crazy, or did a singular theme run through all mah stories this week? That's right; women empowered themselves and each other like it was going out of style (network). See for yourself:

Big Rich Texas
Season finale, y'all, and the claws? Sharpened. Bonnie began to recover from her post-nose-job Vicodin bender, just in time to feel threatened by grown-ass daughter Whitney's move to California. Pam, however, miraculously found a warm spot inside her heart cockles long enough to let Whitney live in her daughter's California apartment for a little bit longer. Along with that came sage advice: Stop dreaming about a tit job, and get a real one. See? Pam's seemingly using her overabundant confidence for good, finally. But Bonnie sees it as meddling. I'd say she smells something fishy, but her nose is obviously covered with a comedic bandage for the entire episode. It's even there, taunting my funny bone as the two moms come to public blows at the grand opening of Connie's new consignment store location. But Bonnie gets the last laugh on her way out the door, making a joke about Pam's camel toe. Pamel toe? [Question for editor: Can typing "Pamel toe" get me sued?]

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It's good to be the Queen.

There are still some free passes available for this Saturday's simulcast of The Magic Flute at Dallas Cowboys Stadium, or so says the press release that scampered across my inbox. I stomped on the thing, shook it out and noticed a fun fact: according to TDO and WRR Classical 101.1 fm, There Will Be Tailgating!

Beginning at 5 p.m. in lot 5, opera's frattiest fans will weirdly merge entertainment genres for two, brief hours. (If you haven't heard, TDO will simulcast Mozart's bazaarly masonic-inspired work The Magic Flute for free, with free parking this Saturday at Cowboys Stadium. Look out, I might be sitting next to you with a foam "We're #1" finger.) Since tailgating at the opera is new territory to most, we wanted to lend a neighborly hand and give a few pointers. We can't help you out with the "Opera Karaoke" portion though, that's all you.

Opera tailgating party pack essentials:

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Crazy eyes. All of 'em. Dallas would be so much better!

Last month Dallas experienced the reality television equivalent of a pregnancy scare: Reality Tea leaked that we'd be getting our own bouffanted edition of the popular Bravo "Housewives" series. A Wiki page was summoned, a Facebook page emerged and we collectively clutched our pearls, waiting to hear if Troy Aikman's ex, Rhonda, would really be flipping tables with plastic surgeon Diane Gibby. It all seemed too good -- these women had money, stature and actual reputations within the community that could be compromised through their participation in the program, not just wealthy husbands who never appear on camera and an up-start handbag line.

Sadly, it was impossibly perfect. We likely won't be hearing xylophone introductions followed by sassy head shots of these gals any time soon. At least two of the women have disavowed any knowledge of their involvement and the show's creator, Andy Cohen, said it was nixed. It got us thinking, though. If not Dallas, what cities would we like to see "Real Housewives of..." take over? Here's our top five.

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ABC.com

GCB
The latest episode ends with Kristin Chenoweth strung up and flying around a sanctuary in an angel costume. Not that the show needs a reason for such ridiculousness -- its believability factor was happily thrown out the window before the pilot even aired. But having most of the latest action center around a church musical is yet another way to bring all these zany Dallas character types together for Steel Magnolias-level melodrama, minus the casualties. Cliffhanger-type plots and tear-jerking moments just don't work for such a cartoonish, one-liner-filled production. And I'm OK with that. In fact, if ABC doesn't suddenly lose its Disney-fied heart, I predict that GCB will be blessed with a second season. That's right. I'm stepping out there. Being bold. Annie Potts would be proud.

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Chef Otto will be serving up the savory.

With so many television series being filmed in Dallas, we've become accustomed to BRT, A-List even those rah rah Making The Team gals dipping their pedicured toes in the nightlife pool. But what we forget is that all productions need to be produced, and those folks producing them either live in, or pop through Dallas, as well. Tonight at Winston's Supper Club you can indulge like an LA cocktail waitress with grand ambitions as you mingle with producer Brad Isaacs (Rosanne, King of the Hill, Undeclared, and the Larry Sanders Show) and Guy Shalem (Life of Leisure, Bullet, and Betty White's new "gotcha!," Off Their Rockers). They'll pull back the gel lights and give you some real talk about life in the industry.

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'Big Rich Texas
The ick levels continue to rise as Pageant Maven Mom (I just call them whatever the hell I want) learns that her live-in god-daughter might be preggers with her live-in son's baby. Yeah. They grew up together with at least a casual family vibe, and now they've begun knocking the houseshoes. The pregnancy turns out to be a false alarm -- just more delicious fodder for the country club. Didn't stop us from naming a possible spin-off show in our minds: Big, Rich and Knocked Up. Next fall on Style! In other BRT storylines, Bonnie and Whitney quibble over plastic surgery, Pam continues to staunchly defend her position within the very important Fashionistas group and Connie threatens her own rep with said group by storming out of an event. Don't fuck with her boutique business, or the claws come out. Apparently.

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Photo from stuckattheairport.com

Don't you feel your worries drifting away?

Next time you're marooned at the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport, release your TSA tension at the new yoga room. Located just beyond Auntie Anne's Pretzels in Terminal D, the strip of tiled floor is covered in mats, sectioned off by a privacy screen and accented with several potted plants. Hand sanitizer is available. The windows lining the other side of the space overlook a region of contemplation and tranquility, the tarmac.

This seems about as relaxing as getting a backrub in a mall kiosk.

illustration by Jucifer

Tonight's show at Rubber Gloves is the only place in the US to ogle post-apocalyptic, Portuguese comics from the new collection Futuro Primitivo. The project has been shown in Rome, Helsinki, Sweden, and next Brazil, but because of local artist Nevada Hill's contributions to and connection with the the vibrant artist collective, it takes a momentary pause right here, in the Meme Gallery at Rubber Gloves. Joining the celebration of devastation, as told through squiggles and sketches, will be local bands Dust Congress, Ulna and Cerulean Gaillo -- all of whom were hand-plucked by Hill for their ability to tonally reflect the publication's End Of Days aesthetic.

You're likely wondering how it all happened. There are oceans and languages dividing our artist from the Portuguese posse, and still they found one another. Thanks to that magnetic occurrence, we get to party and browse some visceral, vibrant and yeah, kind of dangerous art work.

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