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Category Archives: Connecticut mom

All Hats Are Off…


I am famous for slacking off in the summer as a parent.

I am present  diligent  focused doting   a good parent for the most part from September through June.  Come July all bets are off.

We follow the rules for food, school, sports, bed time, reading lists, appropriate screen times, etc. during the year and in the summer it’s time to let things slide.

So when Mr. Gaga came home from a NASCAR race (for real) with hats for the kids and they wore them to summer camp I didn’t think twice.

They were so proud and excited to wear the hats because they thought they looked like really cool teenagers, off they went on their bikes and I went to the beach to read my book.  Everyone was happy.

They came home completely devastated.

“First we were playing a game and they counselors said “Anyone wearing an inappropriate hat come on this team’ and they were talking about me and Michael!” Sam said with astonishment.

“Yeah then later they actually pulled us aside and said that we had to take our hats off and that they would give them to us after camp!” Michael said with despair.

“Why?” I asked incredulously.

“They said that our hats were “beer hats!” Sam said with horror.

So you are all envisioning this horrible hat from a NASCAR race that would be deemed “inappropriate.”   Something like this….

supreme-playboy-snapback-hat-cap-black

Or maybe at least this….

$(KGrHqN,!qcFGlEjIVVeBRzJO!qNE!~~60_35

 

Or I could see how this hat could potentially be offensive….

sluts

 

I stared at their hats doubtfully…..”But who even knows what the heck this is?”

hat

Who the fuck drinks apple ale?? And who the fuck cares?

“One of the older kids said ‘That’s a beer hat!” Michael said matter-of-factly.

“Well who cares?” I asked getting annoyed. “It’s not like a Newport Light hat or a porn hat!”

The kids stared at me and shrugged.

I started making their lunch fuming mad.  First of all it’s summer camp at the beach, it’s not some sort of educational institution run by Communists.  Second of all, are we not allowed to discuss beer or admit that we drink it daily?   By creating a big fuss about this stupid hat it makes my children feel as though drinking beer is very bad….in which case they will start to wonder about their father and all of the hats he wears…..

great-hat-fan
When I was growing up my parents and aunts and uncles would drink all the time. We thought nothing of it.  In the old days, fathers would come home and just walk in the door at 5 PM and start chugging straight scotch or whiskey out of a rocks glass.

Dads would down straight liquor and puff on cigars and cigarettes in the house after a long day of work while the children quietly did their homework or played.

Nobody would even bat an eyelash while grown adults utilized grown adult substances.

What would Don Draper do if someone complained about his kid’s “Apple Juice Hat?” He would throw back his drink and blow smoke in the person’s face and laugh….

We didn’t really feel comfortable doing that but I just made a special hat and necklace for Mr. Gaga the next day when he brought the kids to camp.

beer-hat2

Nobody seemed to notice so the next day – I brought the kids myself and really tried to make a statement….

 

 

thumb_cigarette-hat

 

I think it’s safe to say that nobody will be bothering us about our choice of fashion accessories anymore….

PLEASE CLICK THE LINK BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME AS THE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!!

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Born in the wild (to assholes)


I have been enjoying my long weekend at the beach with lots of sun, food and drink.  There haven’t been too many parenting dilemmas to speak of because ….well…quite frankly I have been ignoring the children.

However, I did find out about something new and exciting in the birthing world that I felt I should discuss.

During this week we enjoyed parties and celebrations of our “independence” as a nation. On July 4th, 1776 the Congress formally adopted the Declaration of Independence.  One of our “Founding Fathers”  who helped to get the wheels in motion to ensure our independence from Great Britain was the one and only, Benjamin Franklin.

I pretty much just thought he did that and then flew kites got electrocuted by lightning all day, but apparently he did some other very important stuff.

Apparently he just dicked around with kites all day...nice life.

Apparently he just dicked around with kites all day…nice life.

He put together a very important petition in Pennsylvania to create an institution that is now known as the “hospital.”

… petitioners were directed to present the Assembly with a bill to create a hospital. Presented a week later, the bill encouraged the Assembly to establish a hospital “to care for the sick poor of the Province and for the reception and care of lunaticks.”

From that day on we have enjoyed the comforts of hospital care.

We are able to enjoy modern medicine in well-lit sterile environments filled with trained medical professionals who spent years and years studying the human body at expensive medical schools.

We have been blessed with enjoyable television programming such as ER and Grey’s Anatomy and General Hospital.

Everyone is so focused on that damn kite - why don't we celebrate Benjamin Franklin for bringing us this??

Everyone is so focused on that damn kite – why don’t we celebrate Benjamin Franklin for bringing us this??

But now we have something even more groundbreaking to look forward to in the world of television.

I quite enjoy reality television and I have to say this spring, Lifetime Television really outdid themselves by bringing us some of the most riveting television in the history of reality TV with “True Tori.”

"My heart is ripped out!" Tori screamed before she kicked all of the baby and wedding pictures of the bed and had a complete nervous breakdown.  It was absolutely fascinating.

“My heart is ripped out!” Tori screamed before she kicked all of the baby and wedding pictures off the bed and had a complete nervous breakdown. It was absolutely fascinating.

I am sorry but I cannot forgive Lifetime for their next big show.  No matter how many scrapbooks Tori kicks off of her bed in hysterics.

‘Born in the Wild’ is set to debut on Lifetime, “a documentation of what happens when women actually give birth with no help from doctors.”

Lifetime is presenting us with a reality show this summer featuring women who feel that the birthing process should not be in a local hospital.  It should apparently not be in their home either. These women find that hospitals and homes are too “medicalized” and that birth should be a natural and beautiful process.

Modern mothers once again have decided to reinvent the wheel.  Convinced that evil medicine and sterility will destroy their precious beautiful birth moment, they have taken to popping kids out in kiddie pools in their dining room in droves.

They even hire photographers to document this amazing process.

Here a woman entertains everyone with a quick rendition of “Chopsticks” while she anxiously awaits her new baby!

piano birth

 

When she is finished with a quick “Moonlight Sonata” she urges her partner to hop into his Tommy Bahama bathing suit, and put on his gold chain and dry-hump her from behind.

birth couple

Soon after they hop into the kiddie pool that is set up in their living room and begin the process of childbirth at home.

tub

 

kiss

But no!! Even the home birth isn’t natural enough for the latest batch of assholes bearing newborns.

Too sterile!! Not natural enough!!

So where should one squeeze out a child and a placenta these days?  Where could a mother be completely immersed in this beautiful process with no disruptions from modern medicine or trained professionals?

Oh….the rainforest of course!

cos-01-birth-xA4vEe-de

I will just put my yoga mat right here in this filthy creek….

Lifetime’s PR people put out the crafty tagline for the show asking“What happens when the craziest experience of a woman’s life becomes truly wild, and soon-to-be parents decide to take on an unassisted birth in the outdoors?” 

Oh I’ll tell you what happens….these poor children get to experience their very first moments of being born to stupid fucking “lunatiks” (as Ben Franklin would call them.)  They might get Legionnaire’s Disease from still water or they might get stung by a wasp and contract malaria.

Ben Franklin worked long and hard to bring us hospitals where we have the luxury of knowing that if something goes wrong, then people who spent every penny they had at Harvard Medical School will help to ensure that our baby survives.  Do you think that you are so one with Mother Nature that you are willing to risk the safety of your newborn child?

Let’s just say that everything is fine and you don’t need any help from a doctor or the comforts of an emergency room….

What if a frog or salamander jumps onto your baby when it pops out? What if it shoots out and hits his head on the rocks?  What if he goes into the water and a wave comes and he starts floating away? What if an animal eats him? What if the baby ingest bacteria ridden algae from the creek as it comes out?

Do you think you are a fish or other animal that lives in the rainforest? Because you are not.  What you are is an ignorant fool.

Oh and PS - nice ponytail.

Apparently when things get uncomfortable by the creek you can always pop on over to your purple yoga mat that’s set up on a bed of rocks.

women-birth-3_060714025739

 

Then when all is said and done you can just move away from all of the bloody pebbles and nurse your new baby and think about how amazing and “natural” and “wild” you are and how much Benjamin Franklin would hate your guts.

born-in-the-wild

Oh how nice that you were able to stop at the local rainforest J Crew for a statement necklace for this happy occasion!

 

I am hoping that True Tori has another season or maybe I will start watching General Hospital again, because watching ‘lunatiks’ give birth on beds of filthy rocks filled with bugs and bacteria is not my idea of entertainment.

Yet just one more piece of evidence that mothers of today have completely lost their minds.

I HEART BENJAMIN FRANKLIN!! CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME!!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

 

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Take me out of this ball game…


Besides it being Father’s Day it is also more importantly the last day of baseball.

It really couldn’t come fast enough.

I came home this afternoon and dumped the kids trophies off in the trophy room and felt like a weight was lifted off of me.

trophies

If you are currently thinking “Wow  – your kids must be amazing 7 and 8-year-old athletes to receive this many trophies!”

The answer to that would be “No – they suck…but this is the amount of trophies and awards that children receive in today’s world of overindulgence excessive accolades.”

I am so tired of 4-5 nights of practice/slash games. I am tired of taco and chicken nugget dinners night after night because we don’t get home until 8 PM. I am tired of stripping down the children and daily scrubbing and washing of baseball pants.

More than once I have woken up in the night in a cold sweat realizing that I forgot to wash the game pants and run down to the basement with a stain stick just in time.

Sam’s league is filled with kindergarteners who shit their pants and don’t know how to run bases and Michael has not played well this season – so sitting in a hot field to witness these games doesn’t interest me much.

With all of that aside - what I am most excited to be rid of as the season comes to a close is the BASEBALL PARENTS!

I think it’s not all that surprising when you come across Dads that are coaching and trying to live vicariously through their sons.

You know the type – the balding guy who coaches all the teams and screams and swears and acts like a complete douchebag.  The guy that makes an example of his own kid because you know…..his kid is the best ….and you know…he’s totally going to the majors.

I have an announcement to make Goopville:

NOBODY IS GOING TO THE MAJORS!!

GET A FUCKING HOLD OF YOURSELVES.

YOU DIDN’T MAKE IT TO A MAJOR LEAGUE TEAM. NEITHER WILL YOUR KID.

ACCEPT IT AND BEHAVE LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN.

These people act like complete maniacs.  They clutch their heads in despair as they watch from the sidelines, they pace back and forth and yell at their kids as thought their lives and futures depend upon their performance on the baseball fields filled with nine year olds.

Several sources (Ad Counsel, etc) have suggested that 1 in 16,000 HS players make the Majors. In most towns less than half of 12 y/o’s make the HS team. That would suggest a number somewhere upwards of 1 out of every 32 thousand kids that play in youth leagues will make the majors!!!

Nobody knows this.  Or nobody wants to believe this.  They have private baseball lessons and have their kids play baseball in the fall and spring and summer.  Some kids are in more than one league so they arrive to their second games tired and winded.

What is the point of all of this? If it’s not to make it to the big leagues than for what?

While I expect crazy dads in the youth sports arena – I was not prepared for all of the crazy baseball moms.

It starts the first week when you get an email from the “TEAM MOM” who is busy organizing the drink assignments.  This is when you get assigned a week when you are in charge of delivering a humongous cooler filled with Gatorade to the team to keep them “hydrated.”

I’m sorry – do we live in Cancun or Connecticut?

Are children so tired and thirsty that they need these huge chemical-ridden beverages?

Are children’s electrolytes that depleted that they need to consume large lemon lime beverages filled with poison?

I don’t believe in sodas and sports drinks and they are banned from my household – but magically just because “TEAM MOM” fails to read or watch DR. OZ – she has arranged things so that my children are suddenly downing flame retardant disguised as a “sports drink” necessary to getting through the game.

Our kids are soft Connecticut kids that are playing spring baseball for an hour.

They don’t deserve a sports drink.

 

If your son looks like this with blood, sweat and tears dripping down his face - then give him a Gatorade...Otherwise water will suffice.

If your son looks like this guy -with blood, sweat and tears dripping down his face – then give him a Gatorade…Otherwise water will suffice.

 

Now after all of the beverages are organized there’s the actual watching of the games.

I usually bring a chair and some magazines to sift through while I pretend to watch the game, but I end up reading the same page over and over again because I am surrounded by mothers that won’t SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Last weekend a monstrous beast that had clearly escaped from the women’s prison mom was shaking the fence while screaming at the children during the game, and then at the end of the game got in a fight with the umpire!

I can’t even think straight with all of the noise these women make and inevitably end up with a blinding headache from all of the chatter.

“Choke up!” “Good swing!” “Shorten up!” “Oh -don’t swing at that!” ” See the ball!” “Bad call!” “Hands Back” “Stay down!” “Nice spot!” “Oh- you gotta hit that!” “Oh – you gotta catch that!””Nice throw!”

It’s never-ending.

I feel like I am sitting next to like 5 Harry Caray’s…..

Literally this is what I have to listen to while I am TRYING TO READ ABOUT TORI SPELLING’S BROKEN HEART!!!

 

 

One of the mothers actually gets a babysitter to stay home with her two young children so that she can pay attention to the game!

I asked her why she would do such a thing.

“Well – when the baby is here – I miss parts of the game.  I am busy watching her and I can’t concentrate on the game,” she explained.

“Well, luckily you are not George Steinbrenner -so it’s really not so imperative that you watch every minute of the game…” I answered smartly.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“What the hell?” I stared at her to see if she was kidding but she clearly wasn’t.  “I can’t believe you act like Annie Savoy from Bull Durham and you don’t even know who George Steinbrenner is….” I said in disbelief.

“What’s Bull Durham?” she asked innocently.

Then I realized.

These bitches don’t really know anything about baseball except what they learned in Goopville!!!

It’s so easy when you I am surrounded by mothers that are giving play by plays and acting as though they know everything there is to know about America’s favorite past-time to feel as though maybe I should care more.

Maybe I should put down the US Weekly and take a little more interest in watching these 9 year olds play baseball.

But probably not.

It’s just a game after all.  Somehow parents across America have lost sight of that and it’s sad.

 

 

 •A good friend of mine used to say, "This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains." Think about that for a while.


A good friend of mine used to say, “This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains.” Think about that for a while.

 

And with that all I am worrying about is getting through the last week of school!

Goodbye baseball fields and hello BEACH!!!!!

PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME FOR THE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!!  Happy Father’s Day to my dad and to MR. GAGA and to all fathers!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Wipe Out Party Wipes out Lady Goo Goo Gaga!


Every year for the past seven years, the day of Sam’s birth is very hot.

It is usually the kind of day where your makeup melts off of your face, that your clothes are sticking to your body and you are seeking shade when outdoors so you don’t throw up.

That is the day that I usually have Sam’s birthday party in the backyard.

For example – this was last year’s forecast for the Friday afternoon party:

Oopsie...At least I will serve alcohol to the parents to lessen the blow....

Oopsie…At least I will serve alcohol to the parents to lessen the blow….

Every year I freak out and fill up water balloons and set up slip n’ slides so that the kids won’t perish during his celebration.

Last year I think we just put out a sprinkler like total white trash in desperation.

I was not going to put myself in that position again. This year, the seventh year, I finally learned my lesson. I rented an inflatable water slide.

When I ordered I figured that would provide the main entertainment for the party while keeping the children cool at the same time. The gentleman on the phone recommended the “Wipe Out” slide and I trusted his expertise and booked it.

The theme of that party became “Wipe Out,” surfing, sharks and summer.

When we decided that we would have a summer themed party for Sam it was then that I thought to invite some people over for a summer kick off after this party was over.

Everything was super organized and perfect.

Summer was on its way and Sam would have fun with his friends and the Gaga’s would have a fun weekend of laughs and celebrations…..

accuweather06061001pop

I could not fucking believe it.

It started on Monday.  I figured the weathermen were just being dicks and tried to put the whole forecast out of my mind.

By Wednesday I was beside myself.

I rolled around in bed at night tossing and turning, unable to sleep while I considered whether or not I should cancel the party or risk having all of the children get electrocuted by lightning or murdered by “large hails” on the bouncy slide.

It was a real toss-up.

I would every two minutes periodically check my phone to compare and contrast all of the weather forecasts.

 

 

phoneweather

This is what my phone looked like for a solid week at all times.

I tortured Mr. Gaga incessantly.  I would call him at work all day.

“Hello?” he would say in a hushed tone.

“Have you checked the doppler?” I would shriek.

“No, I am in a meeting…what do you want?” he would ask with annoyance.

“The doppler hasn’t changed!” I wailed, “The storm is coming right at 4 PM when the party starts….what should we do?” I asked desperately approximately 10-15 times a day.

“Just wait….it might change.” he would say and hang up on me.

When he wouldn’t talk about it I would call the man who owned the inflatable company, (or as I got used to calling him the “Bounce House Guy.”)

Every day he would talk me off the ledge and tell me tales of other families and schools who would cancel their parties only to find that the weather is beautiful.  He suggested we just keep waiting to see if the weather forecast would change, as he pointed out that Connecticut weather was very unpredictable and often the weather forecasts missed the mark completely.

“Why do we live in this fucking asshole place?” I demanded to Mr. Gaga one night while I frantically checked my phone forecasts and he tried to sleep.

“It’s a horrible place…with a horrible quality of life, horrible weather…..I fucking hate it here!!”

He rolled over and ignored me.

By Thursday, I could barely function.  I hadn’t slept in days and I hadn’t prepared properly since I wasn’t quite sure if the party was a go, which was adding to my stress level.

“The bounce house guy” says we can cancel right up until that morning if we want….” I explained to Mr. Gaga.

“Hmm-hmm.” he answered.

“Well – but then should I make all of the cupcakes and cookies?” I asked bleary-eyed on Thursday.

At this point Mr. Gaga had stopped responding appropriately and would only stare blankly back at me or say things like “I want a divorce.”

We decided to just move ahead with our plans even though all of the weather reports continued to say that there was a 50 percent chance of a thunderstorm occurring right at 4 PM when the party began.

Now I had to get baking, cleaning and organizing Thursday night after a week of no sleep and stress.

I was in a bad mood while I frantically baked beach cupcakes and barked out orders to Mr. Gaga.

Even though I was delerious I was still able to create lovely beach scenes on these cupcakes....

Even though I was delirious I was still able to create lovely beach scenes on these cupcakes….

 

At one point I was covered in blue frosting thinking of some items I needed to buy at the store – I called out to Mr. Gaga to write out a list for me as I named the items I needed.

“Why don’t you write a list for me?” he asked just to be annoying.

“Do you think I look like I want to play fucking games with you right now? Do you think this is a time to crack stupid jokes?!!” I screamed like a psychopath.

He just stared at me in horror.  He quietly wrote out the list and went upstairs.

When I was cleaning up at 2 am completely crazed I looked at the piece of paper he left behind and died laughing.

list

I woke up Friday at 5:30 AM and frantically checked all of the weather stations.

The storm was right on track – nothing had changed.

I set about cleaning and finishing up what needed to get done.  Mr. Gaga and I, desperately wracked our brains to think of what we would do if God forbid all of the children ended up in the house due to inclement weather.

“I’ll challenge them all to thumb-wrestling and arm-wrestling.  We can have an arm-wrestling tournament.”

I was so exhausted that it seemed like a good idea.

“Ok, and I will give them all tattoos -we can have an indoor tattoo parlor.” I answered positively.

The party was quickly going from a wipe-out summer splash party to a seedy reenactment of “Over the Top.”

overtop

 

Early in the day – the “bounce house guy” arrived with the water slide.

I guess I was so focused on my party plans that when he described to me the actual dimensions of the slide I hadn’t been listening.

He asked where the slide would be going.

I brought him to a small patch of grass in the backyard.

He stared at me in horror.

“Um…it’s going to take up more room than that….it will pretty much fill your whole backyard.”

Please lord let it stay sunny.....

Please lord let it stay sunny…..

But then …..a miracle happened.

At around noon – all of my hourly doppler radar detectors changed their tune!!

The rain was coming at 6 PM!!!

It was a “Wipe-Out” miracle.

I finished getting set up outside and after I put my gorgeous “surfboard cookies” in wrappers…..

cookies

I had about ten minutes to spare and I just needed a little release….

So I went down the slide in my clothes….

Twice.

Next year Sam’s party will be held inside of a movie theater to save my mental health and my marriage.

Besides, I will be wiped out from planning his communion.

 

AREN’T I LUCKY TO HAVE A HUSBAND WHO PUTS UP WITH MY ANTICS AND WEATHERMEN WHO ARE ALWAYS WRONG!!???  CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME – NOW I HAVE TO GO CATCH UP ON MY SLEEP!!!  XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Pampering in Goopville


I am so over it.

I am over work.  I am over school.

I am basically over other humans and all of their shit.

I am sick of looking at women with cameltoe wearing Merrills, and I am sick of people at work being bitches, and I am sick of sick children and being sick myself.  I am sick of the winter.

I have been in a real rut.   I am ready for a break from at all.

Sam’s birthday is coming up and we are going to have our usual backyard kid’s party.   I decided that we should also have a little summer kick-off party after the kids leave.

A fun party with friends would be just the thing to get me in a good mood.

I got to work on Sam’s invites.

Once I was finished I felt much better.

Michael walked by the computer while I was finishing up.

“MOM!!! That is NOT a good invitation for Sam’s party!” he said with horror.

invite

“Why are you calling Sam’s birthday a cocktail party??!!” he demanded.

“Shut up and go to bed…  Don’t be silly!” I answered.

As long as there’s a cake involved I am sure Sam will be fine with it……

Just when I was starting to feel like I was starting a new happy spring chapter of 2014, an angel from above sent me a message.

The message said that “YOU DESERVE A BREAK FROM IT ALL – COME ENJOY A MASSAGE AND FACIAL AT MASSAGE ENVY!!!

Well what a wonderful idea!!

Thank you universe and MASSAGE ENVY!

I consider myself to be an expert on spas and beauty services.  In my old life before I became worn down by all of these children, I was quite a snob about such things.

I have been to some of the ritziest spas and salons.  I have had some very expensive and luxurious massages and facials.

When Massage Envy opened up nearby in a strip mall, I never really considered it basically because…..well…

….it’s in a strip mall.

I was very excited when I arrived.  When I got out of my car and looked up I realized I had been short-sighted in my quick dismissal of this establishment.

When I ever imagine going to heaven (yes bitches I am going to heaven – just because I don’t agree with all of the motorized carts in Disney doesn’t mean I’m disqualified)I imagine heaven to be a place that is a beautiful serene world where someone will be rubbing me down with massage oil and I will be totally relaxed…..and the pearly gates will be made out of sandwiches and macaroni.

 

menvy

Oh – hello heaven….

Upon entering, it was like I arrived into a different world. It was as though I wasn’t even Goopville anymore.

Everyone there was pleasant for starters.

I sat down to fill out some paperwork and watched my surroundings.

People were coming out from the back rooms with big dopey relaxed smiles on their faces.

Everyone was just so thrilled to be alive in this place!! “I want to live here!” I thought.

As I continued to people watch, a woman came out of her massage and went to the front desk and asked for a donation for a charity she was working for.

I used to work for a nonprofit – so I knew that they would obviously just tell her to send them a letter of request.

“Of course we will donate to your cause!” the girl at the desk replied eagerly.

I couldn’t believe it – this place really was like heaven!

Shortly, Angelica came to get me for my massage.  Even though I had enjoyed the lobby – I wasn’t completely convinced that the massage would be up to my very elitist standards.

I was in for a treat.  The massage was one of the best I have had.  I felt so relaxed and stress-free as I waited for my facialist.

My facialist came in and was very thorough while addressing all of my skin concerns and diagnosing what type of facial would be best for me.

“Um, ok…I think you could benefit from the anti-aging facial.” she said sweetly.

“SCREW YOU FACIALIST! I AM NOT WRINKLED!”    “Okay.” I answered back – happy to know that someone was willing to spend an hour making me look less weathered.  She used very good quality MURAD products that felt and smelled wonderful.

The facial was very relaxing and my skin looked hydrated and fresh when I left.

I was too tired and relaxed to do anything in the house after all of this pampering, so I sent Mr. Gaga a text to warn him……he never responded.

 

texts

The next day I was halfway through the day and remembered that I didn’t put any undereye concealer on and I DIDN’T LOOK TIRED!!!!!

Let’s just say the last time that happened was before children.

I feel much better now and I strongly recommend going to Massage Envy!!  Tell your husband and children to send you for Mother’s Day!  It’s really for the safety and wellness of those around you!!

kind

EVERYTHING I WROTE TODAY WAS BECAUSE I AM AN HONEST PERSON THAT TELLS THE TRUTH BUT MASSAGE ENVY DID IN FACT GIVE ME COMPLIMENTARY SERVICES AND I LOVE THEM.  PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME FOR THE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA.  XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

 

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Clothes Call


Last week some Florida schools were considering creating a mandatory dress code for parents.

todayshow

 

I know we are all thinking the same thing.  Florida schools are some of the worst in the country, surely they should be talking about teaching the children to read or spell or something.

However, before we are too quick to point out how dumb they are …..they might be on to something.

I know I wouldn’t mind if the Goopville Board of Ed put their foot down and started making some dress code rules around here.

I have drafted some guidelines for when they are ready to make it happen.  I am guilty of some these offenses and I think it would be nice if we could all get our acts together so that we don’t all mill about at our children’s school looking like a bunch of meth addicts:

Dress Code Rule#1 – Pajamas should not be worn after 8 am:

Listen you crusty disgusting pajama wearers…just how bad is your life that we have to look at this?

You can’t wake up like 5 minutes earlier and put on a god damn outfit?

What kind of message are you sending to your children and my children when you arrive anywhere (even the bus stop) in your crusty Old Navy performance fleece pajamas?

Is life such a struggle for you that you can’t take two minutes and throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt?

Just because you are not attending a workplace environment does not give you the license to wear sleepwear during the daylight hours.

I mean does your husband come home from work to find you in the pajamas you slept in the night before? It’s bad enough for those of us who unfortunately have to interact with you at the school but how long do you think you’re going to pull this before he gets a girlfriend?

mySuperLamePic_fc42cd57f00af365725e893baf87ec77

GET DRESSED PEOPLE!! It takes two seconds, and it let’s us know that you haven’t given up on life.

 

Dress code rule #2 – Stop wearing ugly shoes.

If you stop wearing sleepwear – please don’t take your feet out of slippers only to slip them in to something unsightly.

I understand everyone might not follow the fashion trends and keep up to speed on all of the hot footwear news.  I am totally guilty of attending the kids’ classrooms in Uggs or Nikes.

However, I cannot understand why here in Goopville I see many, many women and MEN who arrive to pick up their children or volunteer at their child’s school wearing jeans and this shoe:

45-Merrell-Women-s-Jungle-Moc-Loafers-3

This is a Merrell for those of you fashionable people who don’t know about such offensive things.

It’s for people who care SO  MUCH that their FOOT IS COMFORTABLE that they actually put these on every morning and head out the door!!!

People in this town just walk around with these bad boys on with a pair of white tube socks and mom jeans like it’s perfectly normal.

I’m sorry – are you actually hiking up Mt. Everest directly after school?

Do you have very bad bunions or corns on your foot and that requires you to wear geriatric like footwear?

Are you over the age of 70 years old?

Are you participating in the Tough Mudder competition after school?

I simply cannot fathom what would make a person wear these shoes around town as though it was perfectly acceptable.

DRESS CODE RULE #3 – No sweatpants, especially when worn by fathers:

First things first – sweatpants are pajamas in disguise.  You are not fooling anyone when you arrive in a public place wearing sweatpants.  Especially when they are of the elastic ankle variety.

Now, I understand it can get confusing because “workout clothes” have become somewhat the norm.

Somehow gym clothes have snuck into suburbia as acceptable daytime clothing.  I am guilty of it myself.  I go to the gym first thing in the morning and then I run a bunch of errands on my way home.  So basically I leave the gym with big sunglasses on,  zip my sweaty body into my lululemon hoodie and pray that nobody sees me.

However, I try to at least match and wear somewhat stylish gym clothes if I think I am attending the children’s school.

I certainly don’t arrive in sweatpants!

Many women wear their little lululemon outfits so that we know that they are very busy doing yoga and spinning and eating a gluten-free diet.

Then theirs the others that wear their sweats because they are too lazy to put on proper clothing.

The rule should be – if you arrive in exercise clothing – then you should be in some sort of fit shape.

MEN ESPECIALLY LISTEN UP! Don’t show up all fat and doughy wearing workout clothing to try to impress us….

Please wear some sort of loose-fitting Puma outfit or something.   Don’t wear sweatpants that are so tight I can see the outline of your balls for the love of Jesus!

mySuperLamePic_b8ce7970667b3977bcdbf077e7eb6687

 

 

DRESS CODE RULE #4 - ADD SOME COLOR

This rule isn’t about “Dress” per se, but it’s about overall appearance.

At what point do you look in the mirror and see gray hair and an uneven, aging complexion and just smile and walk out the door?

Nothing says “I wish I was dead” more than a 38-year-old walking around with gray wiry hairs sticking out of a mangled ponytail that hasn’t been cut since the 1980′s and a rosacea filled face.

If you have gray hair and you are not in your 60′s then you must color the hairs.  It is very simple.

If you don’t have a lot of time or money you can do it yourself at home.

The same goes for your face.

“I don’t like to wear makeup.”

“I don’t like the feel of makeup on my face.”

“I don’t think I really need to wear makeup.”

“I don’t have time to wear makeup.”

My husband doesn’t like me to wear makeup.”

SHUT UP AND PUT ON SOME UNDEREYE CONCEALER AND MASCARA FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

You look like a piece of shit.

I’m not quite sure what kind of glorious stuff you are seeing in the mirror in the morning but from where we are looking you can use a little something.

Here comes Heidi Klum walking down the street looking all naturally beautiful with no makeup on.  Does she say “I’m so beautiful that I am not going to wear makeup because I don’t need it?”

heidik

No.

She puts on some fucking makeup.

Guess what?

Here’s the kicker.

You’re not Heidi Klum.

DRESS CODE RULE #5 – ALL CLOTHING MUST FIT:

Whether it’s pajamas, yoga pants or your mom jeans -please choose clothes that are your size.

I know the years have not been kind, and believe me I have a muffin top that rivals no other.

However the children should not have to be subjected to seeing their friend’s mother or father wearing clothes that are too tight.

I see women that constantly wear too tight yoga pants that show every roll and cellulite dimple. And to add insult to injury I can see their maternity underwear outline perfectly.

Why are you subjecting us to this?

Why are you subjecting yourself to this?

Do you know that from the back you look like a garbage bag filled with doorknobs?

Do you know that when you are wearing spandex clothing you must wear a thong? It’s non-negotiable.

Is this because you have completely given up on life?

Also – have you considered the damage you are doing to the children if you go into the school to volunteer wearing clothes that don’t fit properly?

Do you think it’s fair to them that when they are trying to do their work at their desks they are at eye level to this?

 

cameltoe

 

Come on parents! Get your shit together!!!!

Let’s go back to the days when mothers cared what they looked like as to not embarrass their children.  Let’s give the children of America someone to look up to as civilized members of society; not someone who looks like a homeless ragamuffin.

 

I KNOW SOME OF YOU WILL BE MAD AT ME FOR MAKING FUN OF MERRELLS AND LULULEMON -BUT I DON’T CARE…IF YOU ARE NOT MAD AT ME PLEASE SHARE THIS POST ON FACEBOOK THIS WEEK!!  XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

 

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RIP Multiplication Table – Hello Common Core


This week is conference week in Goopville.

This means that we get to find out how our children are doing in school.

Simultaneously, the teachers work a half day all week-long so that they are not overburdened by work. Because meeting with Goopville parents for a couple of hours each day is apparently the equivalent of going to war in Iraq we are asked to supply a variety of snacks and meal items for the teachers while we have to have our children home at 1:30 each day.

I used to look forward to conferences so I could hear about the academic progress of my children – but I have since learned better.

All commentary is veiled with politically correct terminology and I usually leave with little to no information about where my child stands.

The days of categorizing children as smart or dumb are over.

Recently Michael mentioned that he spent an hour with a special group for math.

“I am almost into multiplication in my WIN group!” he exclaimed with pride the other day.

“What’s a WIN group?” I demanded.

“We go into groups and we practice our math problems.”

“Do you leave the room to work on math?” I asked with trepidation as my blood pressure started to rise.

“Yes.”

I threw down my magazine and got into his face. “Who’s in the group?”

He started to mention some smart children and I was thrilled.  I knew he was a genius!!

Thank god - he's the next Bill Gates and I don't have to worry about paying for college.....

Thank god – he’s the next Bill Gates and I don’t have to worry about paying for college…..

then he started to mention some idiots….

I started to sweat. Why would he be in a math group with kids that were not very bright. Was he an idiot?

I called Mr. Gaga at work while the kids worked on their homework.

I spoke in a hushed tone.  “Michael goes to a special group for math…and I can’t figure out if he is extremely bright or mildly retarded.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Gaga asked with annoyance.

When he got home he peppered Michael with a series of questions that got us nowhere.

When we were going to bed Mr. Gaga said “Well – he’s either really smart or a moron….I will email the teacher tomorrow.”

Of course when the teacher emailed us back we STILL didn’t know the answer.

She said “All of the kids break into groups and practice their math skills – He is right where he should be :)”

“Well – “right where he should be” is not good.” I said to Mr. Gaga.

“I am sure she would tell us if he needed help.” he brushed me off.

Would she?  Everyone is so politically correct these days – would anyone tell me if my kid was an idiot??  Was I an idiot? How could I not notice that he needed extra help in math?

When I went to my parents’ for dinner I mentioned this math dilemma.

“We just don’t know if he’s an idiot or a mathematical genius.” I sighed.

“Well what are his grades in math?” my father asked incredulously.

“Oh…..well mostly check marks and smiley faces I guess…” I answered matter-of-factly.

My father almost choked on his dinner.

“You pay all those taxes to live in Goopville for smiley-faces?” he yelled.

“Hmmm, ….um….yes. The grading system is just basically a series of smiley-faces…..” I answered earnestly.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You mean to tell me this kid has never gotten a grade on anything?”

“Nope.”

He has a point.

No wonder we don’t know if Michael is smart or not.

When I thought about it – it was quite feasible that I would not know if he was good at math or not.

How could I know?

I don’t know because it is a big fucking mystery!!!

With the new common core standards of teaching - children are little robots that must go through the standardized testing motions with little to no feedback.  All so that every child can be at the same academic level at all times.

Is the goal of the “COMMON CORE” for everyone to be common!!

Is it so that everyone can fall to the lowest common denominator!!

To add insult to injury – with the new common core standards of teaching there are new ways to teach and learn everything – especially math.

Gone are the days of the glorious math charts where you just memorized all of the multiplication tables and were set for life.

That is no longer allowed.

I'm sorry but didn't this chart work for like 3000 years??

I’m sorry but didn’t this chart work for like 3000 years??

Now math problems are solved with huge tables and strange pictures.

It is no longer enough to just get the right answer ….you need to “show your work.”

The Gaga’s have not embraced this new learning method with open arms.

Parents are supposed to check off each night that their child has completed their homework. A few weeks into the third grade I quickly realized that checking work was no longer an option because I clearly didn’t understand third grade math. Since September I have been making check marks where Michael tells me to and hope that he’s done his work properly.

On top of the fact that I don’t get it – there’s the issue that I just think it’s stupid.

“Why – can’t he just write 5×4=20?” I plead with Mr. Gaga. “This is such a waste of time!!”

See below – the question was “If 5 people have 4 bananas each, how many bananas are there?”

This is a picture of "a guy thinking about bananas, a guy speaking in bananas, a guy juggling  bananas,  a banana face guy and a guy that hates bananas" says Michael after ten minutes of work with no answer....

This is a picture of “a guy thinking about bananas, a guy speaking in bananas, a guy juggling bananas, a banana face guy and a guy that hates bananas” says Michael after ten minutes of work with no answer….

“Um – ok what’s the answer?” I say with disgust and send him back to do his work properly.

He comes back with this:

This is five plates with four bananas on each plate.  This is the modern way to find out that 5x4 =20.

This is five plates with four bananas on each plate. This is the modern way to find out that 5×4 =20.

“On what planet is this a good way to learn?!!” I ask Mr. Gaga with disgust.  “It just took Michael 20 minutes to answer a multiplication question that in the 1980′s would have taken us 30 seconds!!”

“It’s the common core – it’s good.” Mr. Gaga answers diplomatically.

“To what end?” I ask.  “So that we can compete with other countries?”

I have news for everyone, 10 Chinese boys just cured cancer and performed a full violin concert while my son was over here in America dicking around drawing 5o0 bananas.

I am not impressed.

And if you think I am not impressed – just come over some day and watch Sam do his first grade homework.

He also has to “show his work.”  But since his work is much easier it’s even more ridiculous.

Each afternoon I tread lightly – plying him with snacks and chocolate milk, hugs and kisses, before I bring up the dreaded task of homework.

He immediately spirals into a very dark mood and starts banging things around looking for pencils and his folder.  His annoyance level gets higher and higher with each stupid question he has to answer.

Last week he had to fill out a “pattern worksheet.”

It was something like this.  And it asked him to explain how he knew which numbers were missing....

It was something like this. And it asked him to explain how he knew which numbers were missing….

He seems to take after me with his lack of patience or interest in bullshit assignments that are stupid and lead to Chinese people conquering the world while we are left holding our dick in our hands 500 pictures of bananas.

He was muttering under his breath while he got to work.  After he completed the first row – I reminded him to write out “how he knew which numbers came next.”

“I KNOW!” he screamed like a lunatic.

When I checked on his work I was so proud.

I call this some good work coming from a 6-year-old.

I call this some good work coming from a 6-year-old.

 

In closing, I still don’t know if we are smart or dangerously inept over here in the Gaga household – but I am determined to figure it out this week at the parent-teacher conferences!!!

PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME FOR FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!!

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ketchuplabel125copy2

 

March Madness in Goopville


A while back I asked my readers what to call this homicidal maniac town I live in.  It is a town filled with mothers that are gluten free and wear Lululemon clothes all day for no reason and park in handicapped parking spots to give their children their skiis.  Someone suggested “Goopville” referencing the ramblings of lunatic, Gwenyth Paltrow on her insane blog GOOP….I thought that was perfection.  My town’s new name is Goopville.

Michael has a fall birthday.

Because I chose to send him to kindergarten at age 4 he is often the youngest in his class and on teams.  When I was weighing my decision to send him I thought it would be ok for him to compete with 5-year-olds.  What I hadn’t anticipated was that he would be competing with many 6 year-olds, since most mothers these days hold back their children as long as possible.  This is commonly known as “red-shirting your kindergartener.”

One can always spot these “red-shirters” because they are usually 6 feet tall and the boys have facial hair and the girls have full double “D’s” and their period in the third grade.

This is typical picture from Michael's class...see if you can find the "red-shirter."

This is typical picture from Michael’s class…see if you can find the “red-shirter.”

Michael plays in the YMCA basketball league for 7 and 8 year-olds.  The league relies on parent volunteers as coaches.  While it is generous of anyone to dedicate their time and energy to being a coach, you can imagine how things could get dicey with the wrong candidates.

Last week at Michael’s basketball game there was one of these monstrous red-shirters on the other team.  At first we thought he must be someone’s older brother while the team was warming up but then he took off his sweatshirt to reveal his team shirt and we were horrified.

The kid was at least ten years old.  His head was bigger than mine and Mr. Gaga’s put together and he had a moustache and for some reason not related to his age at all, he had a combover.

Also he may or may not have had a nail in his head...not sure

Also he may or may not have had a nail in his head…not sure

When the game started it was immediately clear that the kid was a nightmare.  He was pushing and shoving all the kids.  At one point, him and Michael both went for the ball and they started wrestling on the floor.  Michael finally got the ball.

“Nail-head’s” coach started walking on the court.  The ref explained to him that he could not be on the court and sent him back to his corner.

After that, “nail-head’s” behavior became more aggressive.

He continued the pushing and shoving and antagonistic behaviors typical of an angry 50 year-old.

guns-dont-kill-happy-gilmore-costume-shirt-screengrab-2

And then…

for no reason relative to the game of basketball…..he punched Michael in the stomach.

The referee had enough finally.

He threw him out of the game.

Like any mentally unstable “red-shirter”…he went to the corner of the gym and cried like a little bitch.

All was right with the world.

For all of two minutes.

Then all of a sudden – he was back in the game.

Why was he back on the court? How could this be??

Oh – because the coach told him to go back in!!!

“Nail-head” was sad- so of course it was time for him to go back in to the game!! Don’t all NBA coaches operate this way?

Even the ref was too nervous to say anything...

Even the ref was too nervous to say anything…

So play resumed.

After a couple of minutes a boy on Michael’s team was wrestling with the “red-shirter” for the ball and accidentally elbowed him in the face.

This time – all of the parents from the other team and the coach came running onto the court and a mob scene ensued.

georgetown-china-fight

The president of the YMCA happened to be there that day and noticed that something had gone horribly wrong on the court.

The other team’s parents and coaches were irate that someone had injured “nail-head” by accident!!!

Our team’s coach was screaming at the other team’s coach and a bunch of parents were there yelling at the ref and both coaches.

The YMCA President came running over to calm the masses and made everyone sit down in the bleachers.  He spoke to everyone about sportsmanship and told all the parents that the games were for the kids and that the basketball league is about children not adults.  He threatened to cancel the game unless everyone could agree to stay seated and watch and enjoy the game.

It's sad when grown-ass people have to listen to some guy talk about sportsmanship....

It’s sad when grown-ass people have to listen to some guy talk about sportsmanship….

The scolded parents agreed to stay still while the game ended.

And of course – just in case you were thinking there was hope for humanity at the end of the game when it was time to line up and shake hands – “Nail Head” punched everyone’s hand!!

Now Mr Gaga wanted me to mention that I actually wasn’t at the game (as usual) and that he gave me the first-hand account of what happened, because he just knew it was blog-worthy.

And even though I tell these types of cautionary tales week after week – I am amazed every time when I notice children acting like barbarians.  Every time parents act like stupid fucking morons I am shocked.

I will just never stop being shocked by modern-day parents’ bad behaviors.  The fact that parents today would sit by and watch their slow adult  3rd grader be violent and inappropriate and say nothing is disturbing on many levels.

What will happen to athletes if they are allowed to act like savage beasts and nobody ever puts them in their place?

Well ask Lance….

lance

Or Oscar…

oscarp

or this guy….

oj

or Mike….

tyson

Just sayin….

This won’t end well for all those “nail-heads” out there.

I DON’T KNOW WHEN PARENTS WILL STOP ACTING LIKE HUGE DOUCHEBAGS…BUT UNTIL THEN I WILL BE BUSY BRINGING YOU ALL OF THE LIVE REPORTING…PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO BE SURE THAT I REMAIN IN THE RUNNING FOR THE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!!!

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The downward spiral…


Otherwise known as February.

Maybe I was too quick to make fun of the people complaining about the weather.  My children have been home now for 12 days between vacation and snow days.

There have been too many storms to keep track of at this point – but all I know is that I have been in the house eating, drinking and aging rapidly.

Whenever there’s some sort of inclement weather that leaves us housebound, Mr. Gaga and I take that as a sign to strap on clothing made totally from elastic and spandex and drink alcohol and eat comfort foods like its our job.

Towards the beginning of the twelve day stretch – I was still in a happy mood and so after the kids went outside to shovel and make a fort I made delicious lunch-time hot chocolates with a little Bailey’s and Fireball Whiskey in mine.  Then I made French Onion Soup in the crockpot….

soup

Whatever delicious flavors you’re imagining are all true…You know you are jealous.

While it cooked I drank wine and lounged around while Mr. Gaga drank beer and watched a movie with the kids.  When it was time for dinner, Mr. Gaga and I had huge vats of steamy soup covered with bubbly cheese.

We quickly realized why this soup is traditionally served in mug.  I don’t think humans are meant to consume this much liquids and cheeses at once. We rolled around in bed moaning and groaning until we passed out in soup and boiling cheese comas.

Also, Valentine’s Day was mixed into this blur of days indoors.  Needless to say we made pink cupcakes and had a nice steak dinner with all the creamy fattening sides to celebrate our love.

When I was young, my best friend’s father owned a pharmacy.  He would always bring home boxes of chocolates when they were past their sell-by date.

With this much chocolate at our fingertips – we could look at the “map” and take a bite of each one and throw it back in the box if we didn’t like it.  We would lounge around taking bites of the chocolates and pretend we were on a soap opera.

There was something so luxurious about having a Whitman Sampler all to your self.

I really thought this would be me someday....

I really thought this would be me someday….

While my life is not quite as luxurious as someone who sits in bed eating bon bons all day – I did feel after a few days of torture that I deserved to eat some of Sam’s chocolates.

He was asleep and I was sure he wouldn’t mind if I just had one.

Old habits die hard....

Old habits die-hard….

In the mornings we were eating hearty breakfasts of bacon and eggs and then we had a great idea to put the Valentine M&M’s into pancakes.

Then one day Mr. Gaga decided to make “Breakfast Corn Dogs.” I mean this is just embarrassing….

So this is actually a sausage cooked into a pancake with syrup on it....and apparently he had sticks handy to create this masterpiece.

So this is actually a sausage cooked into a pancake with syrup on it….Oh and apparently he had sticks handy to create this masterpiece.

 

After a few days of eating and drinking with reckless gluttony -  I had to actually leave the house and go to work.  I had been shuffling around the house in my velour pants and my furry coat….

I took a little peek in the mirror.

What I saw was horrific.  I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“I LOOK LIKE FUCKING SHIT!!!”

It was time to face the cold hard facts.  Apparently, in my old age a diet flush with onion soup, cheese, chocolate and alcohol does not equal beauty.

My under eyes were so puffy I could barely see out of the small slit that was left of my eyeball and my skin was dry and pasty white further accentuating my dark circles and wrinkles.

I stared at myself in the mirror in horror. Had I just aged like 30 years since Christmas?

Yes.

Yes I had.

 

 

Please note the bags of onion soup and wine under my eyes....

Good lord!! Look at the bags of onion soup and wine under my eyes….

I promptly piled on 4 concealers and two foundations and ten bronzers to attempt to rectify the problem to no avail.

I have learned my lesson.

I will be making a concerted effort this week to reverse the damage of the last twelve days.

I will be piling on makeup like it’s nobody’s business.

I will be hitting the gym.

I will be wearing clothing that has proper fastening devices like buttons and zippers.

I will be eating onion soup in a mug instead of a vat eating celery and drinking half a bottle instead of a whole bottle of wine drinking water!!

Spring is right around the corner!!!

Ok...well maybe I will wait until after Wednesday....and then Saturday ....and maybe Sunday.

Ok…well maybe I will wait until after Wednesday….and then Saturday ….and maybe Sunday morning….FML.

THIS HAS TO BE THE HOME STRETCH!!! I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH MORE WE CAN TAKE!  CLICK THE BANNER BELOW AT LEAST BECAUSE YOU FEEL BAD FOR ME AND MY UNDEREYE PUFFS….XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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News that I already knew…because I’m a genius


I remember my parents watching the evening news and I had no clue what Dan Rather was talking about.  The news was filled with news about foreign countries, wars, and legitimate domestic concerns.

At some point in recent years there’s very little separating TMZ from the Nightly News and its a bit disconcerting.  (Not that I’m complaining because I would pick TMZ over real news any day.)  But still!!!

This week there were a few news items that got top billing that just simply should not be news.

#1 – It’s cold outside.

Really?? History has proven and any Farmer’s Almanac will continue to show that in the “winter” months it gets all “wintery” and cold air blows around and makes the air feel cold.  And then people go out into the cold air and they exclaim “It’s so cold!”

Every. day.

Actually what I hear most often is  “I can’t believe how cold it is!!”

Why? Why can’t you believe it? WE LIVE IN NEW ENGLAND!! NOT BRAZIL OR ANY PLACE THAT WOULD MAKE YOU NOT BELIEVE IN COLD WEATHER!

When will this stop being news?

Every news report I heard this week prefaced the weather info with “It’s not actually a “Polar Vortex” but it sure feels like it!! It’s very, very cold!!”

No shit.

ecards

#2 – Justin Beiber makes bad choices:

Why the hell do we build people up and scream their name and go crazy for them and then the minute they make a mistake we tear them to shreds?

He’s a kid whose mother sold him down the YouTube River.  He’s had too much fame and money too soon in life and he’s bound to make some bad choices given the lack of parenting and guidance.

When I was a little bit younger than him I actually dated a guy that had a canary yellow Trans AM that was so loud and sparkled so bright yellow.  I thought I was the coolest guidette ever in that car.  If someone offered me a yellow Lamborghini for free you bet your freaking ass I would have hopped in that car so fast and floored it.

Who of you can honestly say that you wouldn’t do the same??

A fucking loser who wishes he was Justin Beiber instead of a DJ in HARTFORD CT,  announced on the radio it was National “Dislike Justin Beiber on Facebook” day.  Really??

I am so not down with making ourselves feel better by tearing down young heart-throbs.

I’m a Belieber.

You should be too.

#3 – Soda is bad.

You know I have been shocked by America’s disregard for healthy beverage choices in Disney World.  But in general I just cannot believe that people down “diet brown liquids” with no regard for their health and safety.

photo

This is not news.

It’s upsetting to me that Americans find this information to be late-breaking news.

Attention fat Americans: drinking diet soda is a death wish!!!!

#4 -Sesame Street characters are not making healthy choices:

This was all over the news this week – the Sesame Street characters are going to have to make better choices.

Somebody decided that it was the Sesame Street characters who were making our American children fat and stupid.

So while everyone was focusing their energies on how inappropriate Spongebob is, and how annoying Caillou is - I guess we forgot to take a closer look at our pals on the old Sesame Street.

Here we have Oscar the Grouch.  He is perpetually rude to people, generally unpleasant, eats actual garbage and lives in a garbage can.

Nobody minds this filthy asshole - but Spongebob who is nice and lives in an immaculate delightful pineapple - gets a bad rap.

Nobody minds this filthy motherfucker – but Spongebob who is nice and lives in an immaculate delightful pineapple – gets a bad rap.

Then we have Ernie and Bert who basically are the most lethargic gay people who could ever meet.  They lie around watching birds or playing chess all day, and then spend the rest of the day chatting in bed. They literally don’t do any work or anything productive…..ever.

No wonder Ernie is a little hefty, (Bert must be genetically blessed.)

Also, it would be nice if someone would tell this lazy piece of shit that horizontal stripes are not his friend.

Here Ernie spends the day pretending that he cannot hear Bert speaking because he stuck a piece of fruit in his ear.  This is not a good lesson for children.

Here Ernie spends the day pretending that he cannot hear Bert speaking because he stuck a piece of fruit in his ear. This is clearly not a good lesson for children.

And in a press release Sesame Street stated that in the new programming focused on modeling healthy behaviors for children Bert and Ernie jump rope and munch apples and carrots, and Cookie Monster has his namesake treat once a week, not every day.”

Oh you mean Cookie Monster is going to eat one cookie a week?? OK well that’s called a “Blue guy that eats a cookie once a week” – not a “Cookie Monster” by any stretch.

Maybe he can be called a “Recovering Cookie Addict Guy” or “The Monster formally known as Cookie.”

How did this asshole get away with this compulsive vile behavior for so long in the first place?  To add insult to injury he talks in ebonics and says things like "ME LOVE COOKIES."

How did this asshole get away with this compulsive vile behavior for so long in the first place? To add insult to injury he talks in ebonics and says things like “ME LOVE COOKIES.”

I will admit – even I am surprised that it took us this long to complain about the bad Sesame behaviors.  I think that we were snowed by how cute Elmo is that we overlooked some of these very unhealthy characters.

Thank God, the Sesame people realized the error of their ways.

In closing – I am hoping for some news next week that actually is surprising and news-worthy.

Don’t tell me the winter is cold or that Cookie Monster is a fat asshole.

These are not news items.

It’s common knowledge.

WAKE UP AMERICA!!!

SODA IS BAD AND EVIL!! CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME AS THE FUNNIEST MOM IN AMERICA!! XO, lady goo goo gaga

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