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Monthly Archives: April 2012

Bullets for Breakfast


ALERT: DAD AND MR. GAGA’s FAMILY AND FRIENDS  – THIS POST CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT MATERIAL THAT MAY BE OFFENSIVE

I am a reader.  I belong to a book club that considers itself filled with intelligent sometimes haughty women who wouldn’t be caught dead reading something like Twilight or a smutty romance novel.

However, we were all intrigued by the latest craze of 50 Shades of Grey.  Not our usual choice – we decided to go outside of our comfort zone and try some “mommy porn,” as it’s been dubbed.

The first few nights I read it – I fell asleep from boredom with the book on my chest.  By the third night I got to some racy parts – but was so turned off by the cheese factor I couldn’t believe it.

Is this what women in America find entertaining? A woman who says “Oh my!”  when she is aroused?? Really??

My best friend, (I’ll call her L) who has literally read 2 books in her entire life, was even feeding into the hype.

“Is it good? Should I read it?” she asked me.  She really needs 100 percent confirmation that it’s going to be worth it – if she puts down her US Weekly and reads a book.

“I don’t really think so…it’s kind of boring.” I answered.

“Well like what happens? Tell me a scene that would be exciting.” she implored.

“Hmm, well like last night I read it and she had a dream that she was tied up spread eagle on the bed and the boyfriend whipped her vagina with a riding crop until she had an orgasm.”

Silence.

“Ummm, that would hurt and I would be pissed.” she answered.

“I know!! I’m telling you!!” I answered laughing.

Are we crazy that we don’t find this exciting?

Are we just too bitchy to find the fun in having a rich man whip us and tie us up?  Is it exciting because he’s rich and he buys her clothes and jewelry?

Because let me tell you – I love me some jewels and Louis Vuitton – but I think I would rather eat Ramen Noodles and wear jelly bracelets - than have to call someone “Sir” while he whips my hoo-ha.

The more I read the more I am concerned for America.

I had a hunch we were in trouble when everyone went crazy over Twilight.

Women all across America are locked up in their houses fantasizing about making out with a vampire or getting whipped by some rich dude.

Am I the only person that finds this troubling?

If this is indicative of the general state of our national self-esteem…..we are totally screwed.

I kept reading but haven’t really been too excited by this book – and PS the actual writing is god-awful.

L  called a few days after our chat.

There is a neighbor of her’s that she always complains about.  The woman lets her children roam free without watching them and her house is always filthy.  This woman doesn’t work,  so L has always wondered what she does all day.

“So – I saw my neighbor outside while the kids were playing – and that book came up, and I told her how you didn’t really like it….” she said.

“Yeah…”

“So – she said – “Oh no, I love it! I was reading it the other day – and I had to take out my “Bullet” twice…”

I died laughing.

“Can you believe that her house is fucking filthy – I’m here like feeding her kids – and she’s inside with the blinds closed – jacking off?” she said with horror.

No.

No I can’t believe it.

I have mentioned many times how I don’t seem to find the time to clean and get things done that need to get done.  Generally speaking in terms of taking care of business – on my to-do list taking care of my vagina is usually not on the list at all.

“I’m so tired. If I finish all these dishes – I will go get the clothes off of the line – and then I will go in my room and get naked and make some time for my vagina.”

I am very sorry – but I just cannot believe that while Japan is conquering the world – here in America we are all lying around in the middle of the day reading trashy novels and masturbating.

No wonder everyone is fat.

This book should be called “50 Ways to Feel Bad about yourself and get fatter than you already are….”

So then I went to work and told this story to some of the girls I work with.  After I told them about L’s neighbor one of the girl’s stared at me.

“Well – of course – everyone has a “bullet.” I could never live without mine.” she said matter-of-factly.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I yelled in between laughter.

“What – don’t you have one?” she asked dead seriously.

“NO!!!!  I have a real live penis that lives with me – and I barely even use that!!! WHO HAS THIS KIND OF TIME????????” I yelled.

“Oh you’re missing out…I better get that book.” she answered matter-of-factly.

I give up.

Does anyone have any good book suggestions for the summer that don’t involve vampires or sadomasochism??

And PLEASE – WOMEN IN AMERICA – CAN THE NEXT BOOK WE OBSESS OVER – MAKE US STRONGER AND SMARTER AS WOMAN???

CAN WE NOT STAY HOME WITH BULLETS PRETENDING THAT IT IS A VAMPIRE’S PENIS??? PLEASE????????? AND IF YOU LIKE THIS POST PLEASE SHARE ON FACEBOOK!! LET’S GET THE WORD OUT!!

XOXO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

Linking to Pour Your Heart Out and Mama Kat

 

 

http://yeahwrite.me/56-open-challenge/

“Does Barry Manilow know you raid his wardrobe?”


The problem with “stay-cations” is that they are really just about “staying”  and not really much about  “cationing.” 

You stay home, cooking and cleaning and yelling at your kids, and then you say “I am on a “stay-cation!” and that’s supposed to change anything??

One good thing is that the weather was absolutely glorious this week – which was lovely, especially after Mr. Gaga and my brother worked 5 long days to put together our new playground!! 

At the end of the week – I got to have an actual girls’ getaway – with my sister-in-law and mother at the Waldorf Astoria.  I was looking forward to shopping, being pampered at Drybar and eating and drinking at amazing restaurants, like Le Cirque and  Il Buco Alimentari e Vineria

Life is great.

Only one problem.

My usual problem.

My rags.

I have been able to sneak by with fashion choices during the past few years – that have kept me somewhat in style. 

Mostly due to luck (thank you boyfriend blazer, Juicy Couture, UGGS, and ballet flats.) 

It was like fashion magic that as soon as I was too weak and fat to wear a heel or a pant with a button, the styles changed to suit my needs. 

And thank you, Pamela, for making it perfectly acceptable to wear UGGS with any outfit and making it cool to look like a lunatic while running errands....

It seems that the party is over.

Apparently while I was home wearing wifebeaters and flip-flops for 7 years,  the rest of the world time-traveled to 1985.

I totally had not realized that we had gone back to the 80’s  – and I needed clothes for my NYC stay. 

“Where should I go? I don’t even know what to do, I am such an old weathered nerd….” I asked my BF. 

What is your damage, Gaga?  Didn’t you blog about this a year ago and say you were going to Ann Taylor Loft?” she asked.

“Oh right….I never did that.”

This is always what happens to me.  I get by with my t-shirts and jeans and then when I have to go somewhere I am in trouble.

So off I went to Forever 21 and H&M to get something cool and trendy.

The entire store was filled with 80’s fashions.

80’s fashions were hard to pull off in the actual 80’s when I was 10.

This was my absolute favorite outfit circa 1988. I made these "jorts" myself - and my aunt made that Madonna t-shirt in art class- and we cut it into a half shirt. I distinctly remember laying on my bed and pulling the zipper up on those bad boys with a wire hanger. I don't really have that kind of time anymore.......

It is extremely hard to pull of now that I am in my 30’s, fat, have a muffin top……older.

Let’s just say that when you want nothing more than to look like this……

If you are an old weathered housewife – it ends up looking like this……

Apparently women that are still occasionally asked when they are due – do not look good in skin-tight neon pink pants and half shirts.

I came home defeated wearing a new black jacket and more wifebeaters.

What are you wearing?” asked Mr. Gaga.

” A jacket. It used to belong to Jimi Hendrix.” I replied.

“You bought a used jacket? What are we, poor?”

I decided I would just shop when I got to New York…. you know the land of skinny women who are on top of every trend. 

That was a totally awesome idea! 

NOT.

My sister-in-law and I went to Saks first, thinking it wouldn’t be as absurd as Forever 21.

When we arrived I realized that Saks had time traveled to the 80’s as well.  As I looked through the piles of colored neon pants, leggings with lace on the bottom and half shirts – I couldn’t believe my eyes.  I think I even say a t-shirt on it that said “RELAX.”

“I feel like I have already been down this road.” I said with shock to my sister-in-law, as I looked through a pile of jelly bracelets.

Roads? Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.” she answered cryptically.

“Huh?”

The store was filled with 80’s pants and I tried to narrow down my choices….

I finally narrowed it down to these 10.....

I asked a young man to help me choose something appropriate.  You should wear these – he said picking up the hot pink pair of skinny jeans.

“I don’t think so…” I answered.

“You should listen to me – I have been here for 7 1/2 years…I’m no dummy.” he answered.

I politely declined.

I finally settled on a coral cropped pair and paired it with coral nails and lips.  I considered a Swatch watch but felt it was too ridiculous and just picked up some feather earrings instead.   We spent HOURS shopping and we finally had some trendy pieces to work with.

We were so happy we finally had found a good outfit that we could wear to dinner that could also be worn when we take the kids to the park or playdates.....

I picked up some Rubix Cubes and some Garbage Pail Kids for Sam and Michael and headed back to the hotel to get ready.  We continued to enjoy our luxurious weekend of eating and drinking.

By the time I got home I was fully relaxed, completely comfortable with my new 80’s fashions and feeling very pampered.

I was thrust back to reality right when I came home to see filthy bedrooms with Lego pieces everywhere, laundry to the ceiling, and no food in the refrigerator.

I looked at Mr. Gaga who was watching a game.

“I don’t belong here, I feel it, don’t you think I feel it! I can’t do any of these vile things and I wouldn’t WANT to. Oh, my life is like death! My children are the spawn of hell, and you’re the devil. Oh God!”

He looked up at me and then looked back at the television.

Corn nuts.

So in honor of the fact that we have time-traveled to the 80’s I felt compelled to incorporate 6 movie quotes from the 80’s……

What are some of your favorite quote from the 80’s???

Goo Goo Gaga Stay-cation


I am giving myself this week off from blogging.

Why?

Because I am on “stay-cation” and everyone else in America gets time off – so I think I can take one Sunday night when all I have to think about is Don Draper.

We didn’t make plans for the break because all of the school schedules got messed up after Storm Alfred ruined everyone’s lives.  So here we are in Connecticut and it is going to be 87 degrees tomorrow!! 

Plus – we couldn’t go anywhere because we are on Day #3 on the new swing set construction, since my last one disintegrated.   I figured I could save some money by having my husband and brother put it together. They started yesterday morning – we are now shooting for Wednesday as a lofty goal.

So – although I am taking the night off I would like to revisit an issue that I find deserves a little more air time – which is my hatred of Chuck E. Cheese.

We had yet another party there this week which both kids were invited to.  It was a Wednesday night – so I was hoping that it would be empty and less offensive than last time.

No such luck.

People apparently come to this facility – just for DINNER!!!!!

What??

“Oh yes – I bring Jake there once a week.  We meet friends and eat dinner – he loves it!” the mother hosting the party said.

I just stared at her like she was insane.

“But who cares if he loves it? It’s filthy and disgusting and filled with the stomach bug and huge rats that sing Happy Birthday…..” I replied.

“Ooohh, you’re so mean!!” she laughed.

“I’m not mean!! My kids would have fun driving a jet ski or lighting a fire but I don’t let them do those things….and I am definitely never going to Chuck E. Cheese for no reason….”

So – I am reposting my original post about this vile facility in case you missed it – in case your kids get invited to a party and you want to prepare yourselves…….

WHERE A KID CAN BE A KID

Birthday party season has begun. 

I have had some interesting experiences with birthday parties with a crazy Martha Stewart wanna-be mom here and a crazy opposite of Martha Stewart wanna-be mom here.

As painful as some of these birthday parties have been – we have managed to avoid one place.

Anytime my children see the commercials for Chuck E.
Cheese they beg and plead for me to bring them to this magical place.  I have been telling them for years – that (even though there are blatantly children their age in the ads) only teenagers can go there.

A couple of weeks ago, we got an invitation for both kids to go to a birthday party.  Sometimes I throw invitations I don’t like into the garbage and hope for the best – but there was no way that I would get away with that for a party that they were both invited to.  I would not be able to beat the system….

Unless…..

“Wait – Michael has soccer practice on Friday nights! Oh well….can’t go.” I said as my husband ( I will just call him Mr. Gaga) and I were standing at our kitchen island going through the mail.

“They are going to the party,” he said without even looking up from something he was reading.

So let me digress and give a little background on this situation.  Mr. Gaga played football his whole life, like it was his job.  Year-round, all weekend, every weekend, all summer. 

He never had a real summer job, he never went to summer camp that wasn’t sports-related, AND (this is apparently the big one) – he never really made it to a lot of birthday parties.

Guess what his prize was for all of his hard work?

Was he getting fat eating Smurf cake or getting bruised knees from all of the falling down at the roller-rink like the rest of us? (it was the 80′s)

No!

He got to go to college for free!!

Not even just a “here are some free classes and a free room scholarship” – The full ride I am talking about is the kind where you don’t even buy a french fry or a pencil.

Stone-cold free college at a Division 1 School.

Oh – that was a totally horrible thing that happened right??

Boo- hoo.

You can see why he would still be harboring weird resentments regarding Chuck E. Cheese – right?

“What the eff are you talking about? He doesn’t have to go to the party.” I said.

“Just let him be a kid and have fun – he’s 5 years old – he can miss a practice.” he replied with exasperation.

“OoooKaaayyy, they can go to the party,” I said slowly,”But don’t you think it would be good to teach him about practicing and what it means to commit to a team, and so forth?”

He looked at me like I was an idiot – “Come on – it’s first grade soccer – It’s not a big deal.”

“Ok – well good thing Tiger Wood’s father didn’t think like that……or Lynne Spears.”  – (Damn it – those were the only people I could think of that started their careers as children -but I knew I just shot myself in the foot.)

He couldn’t wait to reply – “Oh yeah – how did that turn out?”

I shrugged – “Ok – then maybe you’re right.  When I go to the party I am going to ask to speak to someone about what kind of scholarship program they offer at Chuck E. Cheese.  Or maybe they could go to Chuck E. Cheese University.”

He smirked – “Good one.”

“Or maybe by the time they go to school there will be some sort of competitive inflatable bounce house teams or they could get sponsored by like a corporate face painting company…..”

So the new plan is instead of hockey and baseball – I am just going to make the kids bounce in this bad-boy everyday…….fingers crossed!!!

The dreaded day came on Friday.  I kind of secretly was looking forward to checking it out.  I remember going for my brother’s birthday when I was like 8 and thinking it was the best place in the world.  I was looking forward to seeing the joy in my kids’ eyes.  I mean how bad could it be?

Um – bad.

Let’s just say that if they were going to make Chuck E. Cheese University they would have to change the tagline to be “Where a kid could be an asshole while his parents gnaw on chicken bones and watch.”

My four-year-old learned real quick when he put his FULL bucket of tokens down on his seat for 30 seconds and it got stolen. 

Then they were playing “Skee Ball” and their tickets came out and some little girl came and ripped them all off and RAN AWAY!!

When I saw her ripping off all of our tickets, I said:

“Did you just rip off their tickets?” thinking that clearly calling her out would shame her into returning them.

“Nope.” she said while she counted her tickets. 

Shocked I looked to see if her parents were watching – they were.  They didn’t care.

Once I saw her parents I realized I was fighting an uphill battle and let her keep the tickets….

What you didn’t know you could get wings at Chuck E. Cheese University?

After all of the fun and games it was dinner time!

And you know how I feel about food? You know how I feel about pizza that is not really pizza? I thought maybe there was hope when I saw this very detailed ad in the paper.

See how it maps out all the areas that have been improved? 

Lady goo goo gaga fell for the old “zesty sauce” trick….

What? They zoomed in on a wooden spoon stirring it!!! 

I also fell for the old “variety of quality toppings” trick with a zoomed in picture of green peppers and cauliflower? to prove it. 

False advertising Chuck.  Not improved – it is still really bad. 

But the kids didn’t care- and I could have actually given them their rainboots with some sauce and cheese on it and they would have probably not noticed.

So off to the ticket-muncher we went to redeem our tickets (what was left after we got car-jacked at the Mario Kart game and had to give all of our tickets away to the carjacker.)   Then the kids got to pick out really fancy toys that have pictures of Chuck all over them.

Then we escaped. 

My kids passed out cold when they went to bed probably dreaming of all of the fun and laughs they had.  I had nightmares about cardboard pizza and these creepy weirdos.

Till the next birthday party!

 

Linking to

Bad Catholic – Easter Edition


Today is a great day! It is Easter Sunday, the day that Jesus rose from the dead.

I have been learning so much about religion now that Michael is in CCD and it’s interesting to view Catholic traditions through his eyes. 

For example, during the Superbowl we were watching the half-time show (obvi – I love me some Madge) and Michael asked

“Why is Cee Lo wearing a dress?”

“It’s not really a dress, it’s like…you know the same thing that priests wear.” I answered distractedly.

“Ooohh,” he answered knowingly. “You mean a Snuggie…..”

“Um – I think they are called habits or something….” I answered trying to watch the show.

“What?” he asked.

He was totally ruining my Madonna time – “Yes – priests wear Snuggies, just sit down and watch the show.”

The Catholic church has enough issues as it is. If I saw this creepy weirdo coming at me with communion - I would run for my life.

I also just recently found out the actual details about this whole Easter situation.  My Catholic friends from college couldn’t believe I didn’t know this story – but apparently I really didn’t pay much attention in church or CCD!

“So today He woke up?” I asked Mr. Gaga at breakfast while the kids poured out the contents of their Easter baskets.

“He rose again and ascended into heaven.” Mr. Gaga replied not looking up from the sports section.

“Well did He wake up in the cave and at least go into town and say like

“Ha-ha suckers!  Who has two thumbs and totally isn’t nailed to a cross with a thorn hat anymore?”

“Noooo, He “ascended into heaven.” he said impatiently.

“What? How do we know?” I asked with shock.

“Because the rock in front of the cave was moved.” he replied.

“What???? That’s all the evidence we have??? This whole day is based on a moved rock?? I thought this was confirmed…..I at least thought someone saw him like roaming the streets…..”

Mr. Gaga just stared at me unfazed by my revelation.

Hmmm, I don’t know if I am buying this story now.

Anyways – regardless if the Jesus story is true or not – at the very least, Easter marks the end of a dreadful time known as Lent.

Lent isn’t necessarily so bad – but it’s quite unenjoyable when you live with a husband who is allergic to all shellfish, and children that decide you should give up chocolate for Lent and watch you like hawks to make sure you never cheat.

During this time – we also were responsible for collecting money in an “Operation Rice Bowl” that Michael brought home from CCD. 

It is a little cardboard box with a picture of a starving child on it, with a slot on the top for coins, and the money goes to Catholic Relief Services

Thankfully, my cousin came over one day and got guilted by Michael into pouring her entire wallet of change into the box and we were pretty much done with our collection.  The kids were fascinated by the box.

“Why do we have to put money in here?” Michael asked looking at the cardboard “Rice Bowl” at the kitchen island while I did the dishes with my back to him.

“Because there are kids that have no food and this money will help them….like the boy that you see on the box.” I answered without looking up.

“Well, he doesn’t look very hungry to me.” he sniffed.

“Michael, that’s rude! He’s starving!” I answered.

“No he’s not!! He’s smiling!” he protested.

“He’s probably trying to look good for the picture!!  He’s very sad!” I answered indignantly.

“Well then why doesn’t he just eat the huge loaf of bread that he’s holding?”

I turned away from the dishes.  “Let me see that.” I grabbed the box.

I mean I have to say - he doesn't look too upset about the situation...I can see how this could be confusing to Michael....(and by the way if you like his shirt - I think I just saw it last week in the children's department at Saks.)

When we finally had to turn it in to Michael’s CCD class, I placed it in my car in the morning so that I wouldn’t forget it in the rush of the afternoon. 

Off I went to run a bunch of errands I needed to do before we went to NY for the holiday weekend. 

I found the perfect spot on the street and realized that my coin collection for the meter was a little pathetic.  I had mostly nickels and pennies in the cup holder of my car.

I looked longingly at the Operation Rice Bowl in my passenger seat. 

I decided that stealing from the children wearing designer shirts “poor and hungry” for my parking meter would be an unforgivable Lenten offense. 

I decided to rush – and figured any God or police officer would see my Operation Rice Bowl on the car seat and know that I was someone who did good works and should be rewarded.

 

Do you see my life?

Is it because I’m not so sure about the moved rock story or because of all those times when I told my parents I was going to mass but I really went to McDonald’s???

Why God?? WHY???

When we turned in the dang Rice Bowl that afternoon, the teacher made a fuss – saying Michael was the only one in the class to do it.  So I felt good about that – maybe it was worth getting a ticket after all.

Let’s face it, we can teach him to be charitable since we don’t do much as far as religion goes.  We don’t say grace, we don’t go to mass unless it’s a holiday, we don’t teach our kids to say prayers…

So imagine my surprise when I came back to pick him up and the teacher greeted me beaming.

“Michael is so wonderful! He passed his “Hail Mary test!” He knew the whole thing!”

I was completely shocked.  How the hell did he learn the Hail Mary?

I was so taken off-guard.  I don’t know why I said this but…..

I put my hands on Michael’s shoulders and used my “fake Mommy voice” and said…

“Oh – wonderful! They must have reviewed that on Sponge-Bob this week!”

I don't think Michael's teacher really "gets me."

Happy Easter everyone!!

Don’t even think of not voting for me- after I got a parking ticket instead of stealing from the Operation Rice Bowl….Click on the banner below!!! XO, Lady Goo Goo Gaga

My placenta tastes better than your placenta……


We just had a conference week so EVERY DAY was early dismissal!! You know how the teachers in my town don’t like to stay at school anytime after 3:30…right?  

So by cutting the school day short they are able to eat 55 sandwiches and meet with parents without having a long day.

Anyways, so what we did to fill our days was host playdates!!  I was due for a bunch so we had 6 playdates this week and I have to say that now that the kids are getting older – it really isn’t too bad.

However – it made me think back to the time when I was locked up in the house with babies and had gotten roped into a playgroup.  Those playdates were the absolute worst hours of my life!!!

Let’s face it – the playdate for babies and toddlers is really an excuse for bored moms to get together and talk about how horrible their lives are. 

Of course, my luck is to get stuck with a bunch of women who want to talk about how much they love their children.

Playdates are also an opportunity for moms to participate in one of their favorite past-times which is to compete with other mothers. 

Why do we do it? 

Why do we even compete about food??

Why do we care?

But we do.

It starts right from the minute we get pregnant.

“You eat cold cuts? – Oh I would never, I haven’t even had a drop of coffee, not even decaf because Dr. Oz says there’s caffeine in decaf….”

Then we start right away competing with the whole breastfeeding war.

“I breastfed Ava right up until she was ready for first grade…I didn’t mind at all….”

Then we jump into food. 

Oh I would never feed my baby – baby food from a jar!!! I make all of my own baby food from scratch.  I bought a $300 baby food maker and it purees an organic banana like you wouldn’t believe.”

Of course some people even take it a step further.

January Jones recently announced that she has been consuming her own placenta since giving birth to her child.  This is the new cool thing to do apparently.  Placentas can be ground up and eaten in pill form for the squeamish…..

Alicia Silverstone has been all over the headlines because she believes that she is a bird.  Because of this – she spits food into her child’s mouth after she chews it for him.

Let me just say Alicia – there is something called a food processor.  I know you are out to win “Mom of the Century” but let’s not reinvent the wheel here.

There are many ways to cut up food.  If you didn’t want to waste energy by using a blender – (because I know how you hippies are) you could even use a good old fork and knife to cut things up.

I’m not quite sure what you are accomplishing by making out with your baby in this manner,  instead of just feeding him like a rational adult. 

When I got invited into my mommy cult playgroup – I was new to the world of playdates and wasn’t really aware of all of the rules and etiquette.

When it was my first time hosting, I racked my brain to think of the perfect snack that would make the kids like me the best.

It was my friend Martha that said "Good mothers don't feed their kids red and orange dyes......"

I didn’t know! 

I also was thinking that maybe these women (whom I had never met before) could be my new friends.   I had been in the house going crazy – my only communication being with long-distance friends on the phone.

I was kind of picturing this in my kitchen once a week:

I mean how bad could it be? We can talk some shit about other moms and neighbors, dish some celebrity gossip and ignore the kids..... This could be fun!!

So – when I was finished filling baskets with Doritos I got together some “Mommy treats”……

This did not go over well - apparently some people think that 10:30 am is too early for a Skinnygirl Cosmo......what a bunch of losers.

I slowly realized what was proper and acceptable and what wasn’t. 

Kids were given water or breast milk served directly from a huge engorged boob that was whipped out at any given moment with reckless abandon, and a choice of cut up grapes or goldfish crackers. 

Moms were served this:

Instead of running for my life after my first encounter with these idiots – I stuck it out for like 6 months.  I kept trying to talk to them truthfully about how difficult life was or how sometimes I would eat more than just my placenta pills at breakfast even though I was fat. 

They never responded appropriately, the way any of my real friends would.

One time they were all talking about how devastating it would be when the kids (who were all 2 at the time) started preschool. After everyone kept going on and on about how many tears they would shed when they left Brayden, Cayden, Layden and Jaden at the preschool for 2 hours, I interjected.

“Um – really? I intend to peel out of the parking lot at warp speeds and chain smoke Parliament Lights all the way home…….” I said matter-of-factly as I popped a chunk of my placenta into my mouth.

When I looked up this is what I saw…….

Nobody said a word.....Nobody laughed......a cricket chirped....and then I just got my coat and left.

What is happening to this world?

Why can’t we laugh at ourselves?

Why can’t we just feed our kids food and beverages and act normal???

WHY????

ATTENTION NEW MOTHERS!! 

Do not feel inferior to crazy lunatics that think their placenta is better than a Dorito. 

Do your best, feed your child in a calm rational manner.

Oh and one more thing……..Do not join a playgroup.

I ACTUALLY HAVE SINCE QUIT SMOKING – SO I THINK I DESERVE AT LEAST A VOTE ON THE LINK BELOW…..THANK YOU MUCH!!!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

 

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