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What I learned in 2013….


It’s time for my annual year in review.

I am lucky to have this blog so I can go back and see what happened in my life throughout the year and see what mattered to all of you. Here is the blow by blow recap:

JANUARY 2013 – In the beginning of 2013 we started preparing for Michael’s first holy communion and I was met with the ugly truth behind the Catholic church’s planning for date selection. I almost got killed during the “Sign-up for Communion date” meeting – but I got the date I wanted so it worked out….

These women ended up not getting the date they wanted because they had to be rushed to the emergency room..The cross above their heads is a symbol of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Jesus died on the cross for us. On nights like this one, I am sure he’s wondering if that was a bad move….

These women ended up not getting the date they wanted because they had to be rushed to the emergency room..The cross above their heads is a symbol of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Jesus died on the cross for us. On nights like this one, I am sure he’s wondering if that was a bad move….

2 – In February, just when I was starting to doubt Jesus and his almighty powers, I was saved and all was made right in the universe when Kim Kardashian was impregnated by Kanye West.

I still find it shocking that Kim wants to be wrapped up with this narcissistic asshole but I guess she will eventually figure this out the hard way…..

I wrote her a very special letter to warn her about what she could expect…

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3 – In February we were met with yet another Northeast weather disaster.  This particular catastrophe was a BLIZZARD!  Per usual people lost their fucking marbles while they attempted to prepare for 3 FEET of SNOW!!!

By the time I got to the local grocery store this was what the banana stand was like …just so you can see how insane people behave during inclement weather…..

banana

I know that bread and milk were sold out – but now you are all going to live off of bananas? And who’s the wise guy that just left behind a plantain and a box of firecrackers???

4 - In March, everyone was all abuzz about the book “Leaning In” which detailed how women of today could totally focus on their career and succeed!! I found that I was much better at “leaning out.”

This was the last time I "leaned in" for something. I was trying to listen to the weather report to be sure I heard correctly that my kids would have their 10th day off from school due to snow.

This was the last time I “leaned in” for something. I was trying to listen to the weather report to be sure I heard correctly that my kids would have their 10th day off from school due to snow.

5 – In April we went to Disney World.  Boy, was I in for a real education on American behaviors.  I relayed my astonishment regarding the HUGE BEVERAGES that were served in Disney World and the HUGE HUMAN BEINGS that were zipping around on carts.

Some of you got pissed about that…..

Sorry! I just report as I see it fat people!

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Look how this guy balances his massive soda with a broken hand!! These injured people are so determined!!!

6 – In May, we finally had Michael’s communion after much hard work. (see above)

It went well except for when I lost all of my photos to document my good holy works, thank Jesus I still had my pic of the holy cross made out of pepperoni…

What more could Jesus want from me?? I mean if this cured meat cross doesn't secure my place in heaven then I give up....

What more could Jesus want from me?? I mean if this cured meat cross doesn’t secure my place in heaven then I give up….

7 – As the summer approached I may or may not have bumped up my drinking and bumped down my parenting…

If the kids found me like this in the morning they just made their way to camp on their own...it's called building independance in children....They will thank me one day.

If the kids found me like this in the morning they just made their way to camp on their own…it’s called building independence in children….They will thank me one day.

8 – Toward the end of the summer, we started to get ready for back-to-school, which is when I once again noticed how offensive the Pottery Barn Kids catalogue was…..

In the classic Pottery Barn style which aims to make us feel badly about our homes, bedding, and lives….the PB Kids version, now aims to make us feel bad about our kids lunches and what we put them in……

This blog went VIRAL!! It was my hit of the year – and I know it’s because we all feel the same angst about lunch making in America.

Really?? It's not enough that this lunch consists of yuca chips and cherry tomatoes? If my mother ever put a note in my lunch that said I was a "kind person" I would kill her.

Really?? It’s not enough that this lunch consists of yuca chips and cherry tomatoes? If my mother ever put a note in my lunch that said I was a “kind person” I would kill her.

9 – In the fall one of my good friends had a baby.  I went to visit her and noticed that sometimes new mothers go a little crazy when it comes to first baby nursery decor.  Many of you were VERY ANGRY about my commentary…but many of you were VERY LAUGHING at how fucking stupid it all is….This is why I LOVE MY READERS!!!

Please note the newborn size tiara's on the shelf...I believe that tiara was placed on the baby's head as it was crowning to be sure that she knew immediately that she was a princess....

Please note the newborn size tiara’s on the shelf…I believe that tiara was placed on the baby’s head as it was crowning to be sure that she knew immediately that she was a princess….

10- Finally in December, while I juggled all that I had to do I realized that this ELF ON THE SHELF was really putting things over the edge for me.  I wrote an open letter to the clever Elf creators…..

You guys think you and your elves are just so damn cute....All I see here are three twats with double chins....

You guys think you and your elves are just so damn cute….All I see here are three twats with double chins….

Everyone loved this…This was my number 2 post of the year!!( only second to Pottery Barn lunch post.) What does that tell me??

That mothers in America are tired!!  We don’t have time for stupid bullshit like daisy sandwiches and Elf games!! We are smart, busy people that value our time and energy!!!

In closing, it has been a great year for Lady Goo Goo Gaga, and I hope to continue learning and growing and sharing my stories.

Thank you all for reading every week!! And for CLICKING ON THE BANNER BELOW!!!!

Happy New Year!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Anger in the pumpkin patch


We had the sense to take Mr. Gaga with us this year to the corn maze and the pumpkin patch.

Of course, there was no troubles and it was smooth sailing.

It was the exact opposite of last year’s adventures in the pumpkin patch when I got lost and had a little altercation……

(REPOSTED FROM OCTOBER 2012:)

The first fall I was living in Connecticut after living as a newlywed in New York for a little while, I thought it would be so fun and whimsical to spend a fall day at a pumpkin patch with Mr. Gaga.

The first mistake I made was to wear a cool outfit that I would wear to go somewhere in NYC – which of course included a pointy-toed boot with a spike heel.  I kept sinking into the muddy patch and could barely stand up straight – let alone bend over and pick up a pumpkin.

To add insult to injury, when I wasn’t twisting my ankle, or tripping on pumpkin vines, I was narrowly avoiding small children that were running around me in circles.  While I was trying very hard to be cute and romantic, there were 50 children around that I narrowly avoided crushing or poking their eye out with my stiletto.

Mr. Gaga was annoyed with me, “Why would you wear this outfit to go pumpkin-picking?” he grumbled between clenched teeth as he held me up by my elbow, helping me to not commit involuntary manslaughter on all of the children in the patch.

“Ugh – why are these children here – ruining our romantic time in the pumpkin patch?” I screamed as loud as I could thought to myself.

I remember sweating to death as the sun beat down on us while we waited in line to pay for our pumpkins and apple fritters, swatting at yellow jackets that swarmed around the whole facility.

It was not exactly what I had in mind, and Mr. Gaga swore he would never go again.

While I thought I was being cute and sexy at the pumpkin patch, Mr. Gaga wasn't impressed.

While I thought I was being cute and sexy at the pumpkin patch, Mr. Gaga wasn’t impressed.

I have since learned what is appropriate attire for “pumpkin patch day” – and have grown accustomed to going with children, sweating to death, and becoming completely filthy and exhausted from the whole ordeal.  All to come home with a couple of pumpkins to put on our front steps.

Today my best friends, A and L were in town and all of our husbands were doing something to entertain themselves, as usual, so we decided to try out a new place that offered a corn maze, and other activities outside of just pumpkin-picking.

“What should we wear?” I asked L.

“Well – A’s husband said that since it poured rain last night the whole place will be muddy.  We better wear our rain boots.”*

*Rain or shine – we will use any excuse to wear our rainboots. Let me just say that outside of the UGG - this whole “wear hideous rainboots as a fashion statement” trend is the best thing to happen to mothers since the double stroller.

So off I went thrilled to move my foot out of a flip-flop directly into a rainboot – and excited for a fun day.

We were running late and when we arrived I parked the car quickly and we all got out of the car.  I had parked very close to the car next to me and I noticed there was a young couple sitting in the car, buckling their seatbelts getting ready to leave.

It was a tight squeeze -I saw the young woman watching me as I pushed the kids along in between the two cars. I was tempted to knock on the window and say “Enjoy your romantic Sundays, because once you get knocked up, it’s over honey.” but I thought better of it.

I thought back to when Mr. Gaga and I were young and those days of coming to the pumpkin patch with no kids.  I had a flashback to how I felt when I was a young newlywed enjoying a fall day with nothing to worry about except how I looked.  I looked at the actual pumpkin patch when we arrived and thought of how ridiculous I was to wear heels!!

patch

Now – my looks are clearly the last priority as I arrived with a shirt, jeans and rainboots on what was shaping up to be a beautiful, HOT, SUNNY, DRY day….

When we arrived the kids had a blast just hanging out on huge haystacks for like a half hour!

Then off we went to the “corn pit.” As Michael explained later to my husband, “It was like a “corn box,” like a sandbox has sand in it – it was like that….except instead of sand, it was corn.”

Weird right?

It was corn-effing-tastic.

L is in the midst of building a house right now – and we all agreed that she would speak to her husband about adding a “corn-box.” to the backyard landscaping plan.

We spent hours rolling around in the corn….

It was magical.

There was something very relaxing about all of this corn….we took off our rainboots and dipped our feet in and pretended we were at the spa….(we don’t get out much.)
Of course - my children have to turn everything into the "Jersey Shore," so while everyone was enjoying the huge tires filled with corn in the corn-pit - I overheard my kids saying "Let's pretend to be in hot tubs."

Of course – my children have to turn everything into the “Jersey Shore,” so while everyone was enjoying the huge tires filled with corn in the corn-pit – I overheard my kids saying “Let’s pretend to be in hot tubs.”

By this time – we were hot and sunburned from the glorious afternoon and realized how absurd it was that we were wearing big heavy rainboots in the dusty dry fields.

A found one puddle in the whole place and we all felt obligated to step in it.

Before we knew it – we had spent most of our day in the cornpit – and we hadn’t even gotten a pumpkin or gone through the maze.

“Do we really have to go in there?” A begged, “We will never get out!”

The kids insisted – so armed with maps we headed in.  We were supposed to find clues along the way to solve some sort of mystery.

Fast forward 30 minutes – the clue charts were thrown in the corn and we were frantically running in circles looking for the light of day.

It was very clear that we were not good at mazes.

We kept grabbing the map from each other and just staring at it blankly.  We would then look up and say “Um, go that way…..”

cornmaze

As I followed L, contemplating how many of our heads could use her Gucci diaper bag as a pillow if we had to spend the night in the corn, I heard her say to one of the kids, “Don’t worry…a helicopter will find us.”

Finally A led us out to safety and we went to the pumpkin patch to finally pick out some pumpkins.

It was a great day, a great way to kick off fall.

We ambled up to our cars, pulling wagons heavy with pumpkins.  As I approached my car I saw a note on my windshield.

Remember that couple from the morning?

The ones in the car parked closely next to mine?

They left me a note.

Let’s just say that it seems like someone skipped their anger management class today……and lets just say that that someone frantically used their dunkin donuts bag as a piece of paper to be sure she could get me a message……

To think I was going to warn them about what it will be like to have kids!!!

I guess they will have to just find out on their own….

and you know what they say….

KARMA IS A BITCH!!!!!

HAPPY AUTUMN TO ALL – EVEN THOSE MISERABLE HUMAN BEINGS THAT LEAVE NASTY NOTES ON CARS BECAUSE CHILDREN TAPPED INTO THEIR SHITTY TOYOTA COROLLA……

PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW!!

xo, Ladygoogoogaga

Dolls gone Wild


Mothers today seem to want to do everything for their children. If you asked my parents they would even include me in that statement.

During the summer months, we are at the beach and I try to take a step back from helicopter parenting. They ride their bikes to camp alone, they run up and down the beach exploring and swimming for hours, and when the day is over they hop into the outside shower together and clean themselves.

Sometimes while they shower I pour myself a glass of wine and forget where they are altogether.

A friend from home came to visit and was horrified at shower time. “Well, how do you know if they are clean?” she asked.

I shrugged, “Well….I guess I don’t.”

What age are you supposed to hand over the washcloth and hope for the best? I mean how old is a boy supposed to be when is mother stops scrubbing his asshole and his testicles?

The tasks that modern mothers have trouble relinquishing control of don’t end with butt and penis washing.

I know many 5 and 6 year-olds that don’t know how to zip their coat, tie their shoes, or wipe their butt when they poop.

In the defense of mothers, it is much easier and quicker to just zip a jacket than wasting precious time teaching a child how to do something.

When Michael was going to first grade I realized that his foot was way too large to keep putting into a velcro sneaker.

I thought this was not a cute look for kindergarten....

I thought this was not a cute look for first grade…

I found the perfect solution and signed him up for the shoe-tying class at Nordstrom.

Mr. Gaga put his well-tied shoe down firmly.

“Cancel it, that’s ridiculous.” he said.
“But I was on the wait list for 4 months to get him in!” I pleaded.
He stared at me. “You could have taught him by now.” he said heartlessly.
He had a point.

When does all of this hand-holding, butt-wiping, jacket zipping enabling come to an end?

NEVER!

Once it starts – it is hard to stop. I know of two mothers who actually inserted their daughter’s tampons for them, because “they didn’t want to do it themselves.”

Well I didn’t want to do it either so guess what happened to me? I wore a big honking maxi pad for 2 years until I was ready to try to insert a tampon myself.

Mothers today are all too quick to solve problems and gloss over everything to make sure that even if everything isn’t perfect it will at least appear as though it is.

Hide that doll's hair and face...she's embarrassing me....

Hide that doll’s hair and face…she’s embarrassing me….

This urge to solve problems for America’s children has reached an all new low.

A troubling post keeps appearing on Pinterest that instructs users how to make dolls look better.

When I was young I had Barbies and dolls that occasionally got a bad haircut, my kids have a superhero who occasionally rip their cape or lose a limb or even get run over by a huge truck.

That’s life.

But no!!

We don’t let children today experience what it feels like to have a doll that looks like a crystal meth addict.

It’s highly unpleasant to have a doll with snarled hair – but no worries, like everything else – we can FIX it!!

Millions of people have pinned this post which carefully outlines how to make your child’s doll look better.

dolls

If you have time to kill and find it a top priority to make sure your kid’s doll doesn’t look like Lindsay Lohan than here is the secret recipe!

I am sorry but am I the only one who has better things to do with their time than spend the day making a doll not look like a whore?

I have a hard time keeping up with my own beauty routines.  I often find that I am falling behind on my waxing, haircuts and color, manicures, etc.  So while I walk around with a full moustache and chipped toenails, is someone suggesting that I spend my day delousing a doll and making sure that she looks well-coiffed?

Has everyone in this country lost their god-damn minds?

There are plenty of mothers out there (you know who you are) that walk around town wearing yoga pants, no makeup, and gray hair.  Perhaps you could take some time for yourselves to actually go exercise in your yoga pants or take a hair appointment.  Certainly ANY activity would be time better spent than worrying yourself about how embarrassed you will be the next time your daughter has a friend over and she sees that her American Girl doll looks like Amy Winehouse.

I know you will all say it is because I have boys that I don’t understand the importance of this task…but you are wrong.

I am a girl.

It is laughable to imagine me or my friends growing up in the 80′s, bringing some jacked up doll to our mothers and asking them to comb their hair with fabric softener so that they won’t look like whores.

I asked my mother to do my Barbie's hair and when I came home she looked like this....

Once I asked my mother to do my Barbie’s hair while I was at school and when I got home she looked like this….

Why don’t we use these “whore dolls” to teach important lessons to today’s little girls.

You can sit your daughters down with the trampy doll and say “Look, there’s nothing we can do. Look at your doll sitting there spread eagle, smoking a cigarette with her eyes glazed over, her snarled hair and her ripped outfit all askew.  She has made a series of bad decisions and now she has to face the consequences…..”

Why don’t we use these unfortunate tramps to teach young girls to make good choices and not to go down the wrong path?

smkdollcc_1

There she is in the street…where she belongs!

Mothers – come together and find something to do, or at least think of me the next time you feel the urge to spend your day combing doll hair.

Just like humans, dolls sometimes hit a rough patch.  Sometimes it’s not all castles and prince charmings….

It’s an important lesson and one that is never too early to teach.

DON’T BLAME ME BECAUSE I AM BEING MEAN TO THE DOLLS!!  PLEASE FOLLOW ME ON PINTEREST AND PIN THESE WHORE DOLLS!!!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

Making Mr. Gaga


Because it’s Father’s Day I had to not ask Mr. Gaga to do anything, I had to not complain about anything in the house.

I had to not be bitchy or snippy.

I had to bite my tongue when he was watching Rocky in the middle of the day for no apparent reason, and I had to smile robotically when he said he had to go to my brother’s house at 2 o’clock in the afternoon “because smoking wings takes hours and we need to start early to have them ready for dinner.”

As a result I am totally mentally drained.

This week I am offering a very short and sweet tale.

Mr. Gaga wasn’t always Mr. Gaga.

He used to have his own hopes and dreams that didn’t include me.

Even after we were dating for a while, he repeatedly attempted to break it off.

“I don’t think we should go out anymore….we have to break up.” he would say.

“No.” I would answer back.

“I am going to go out with other people.” he would plead.

“Yeah, no…..you’re not.” I would calmly answer.

“I don’t like you.” he would say when he was at the end of his rope.

“Yes you do…you love me.” I would answer back.

It wasn't that I was completely insane...it was just that I knew we were meant to be....

It wasn’t that I was completely insane…it was just that I knew we were meant to be….

Finally when nothing he would say would stick he would just throw his hands up and say “Ok fine – forget it.”

I was always making this poor guy do things that he didn’t want to do.

I had visions of romance and love and I would make him to take me to fancy restaurants, buy me fancy gifts, write me fancy letters.

I was 19.

One night around the time that he kept trying to break up with me, I had planned a romantic night in watching movies in my college dorm while all of our friends were out at a bar.

We were about to start the movie, and I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

When I came back Mr. Gaga was missing.

window

I looked out the window.

This guy was so determined to get away from me, he jumped out a second story window, landed in some bushes and I could see him running down the street towards the bar.

Thinking quick on my feet I tossed aside my lounge clothes and put on my “Break up shirt.”

*Because Mr. Gaga was frequently breaking up with me, I had special clothes I wore during tumultuous times, called “break-up shirts” that basically allowed me to go out naked, ensuring I would receive much attention from men out at the bar. 

Oh well, I'll just drink this whole bottle of vodka and I am sure someone else in this bar will be happy to watch a movie with me....

Oh well, I’ll just drink this whole bottle of vodka and then I am sure I will find someone else in this bar who will be happy to watch a movie with me….

In the end, no matter what he did, he just couldn’t manage to escape.

He stopped trying after a while, and we were in love.

Then we had kids, and though we still love each other, things can get hectic around here and sometimes I yell at him or act a smidge bitchy.

Also I started a mom blog in which he stars as “Mr. Gaga.”   I mean what more could a guy want?

Sometimes he might secretly dream of jumping out that window, running like the wind into the night and drinking shots and beers until he can’t stand up.

Thankfully, he no longer acts on it.

He’s learned over time that there’s no use trying to escape….he will be Mr. Gaga forever.

THE LESSON HERE IS A LITTLE STALKING NEVER HURT ANYONE AND CAN SOMETIMES PAY OFF! I am a lucky girl.  Happy Father’s Day to Mr. Gaga and all the Dads out there!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Leaning out


Everyone is all abuzz about the latest book from one of America’s top female executives.

Sheryl Sandberg has published a book titled “Lean In,” outlining out women can succeed in today’s world, and how they can avoid holding themselves back.

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“Oh look at me..I am so happy and perfect. I am not afraid of success like all of you losers…Oh and I wear all white clothing and never get stains on them….”

She suggests that many women fear if they climb too high at the office then they won’t have enough time for their children.

She offers ways to get over that and “lean in” towards your career goals instead of “pushing away” from success in order to care for the children that you chose to bring into this world.

Well Sheryl…I am leaning out.

The only thing "leaning" around here is this stack of dirty laundry...and no this is not a reenactment...it's my real life on Sunday mornings.

The only thing “leaning” around here is this stack of dirty laundry…and no this is not a reenactment…it’s my real life on Sunday mornings.

I am sure that she hasn’t become one of Fortune’s list of the 50 Most Powerful Women in Business and as one of Time’s 100 Most Influential People in the World, by sitting around joining playgroups and making fun of Kim Kardashian on her blog…but still.

These women crack me up.  She says that when we stop being afraid of success we can “pursue our goals with gusto!”

The only thing I am doing with “gusto” around here is drinking and consuming carbs.  Is it not enough that you are a gazillionaire Sheryl?  Do you have to rub our noses in it? Do you have to tell us that it is within our reach to be successful but it’s our own stupid faults for being afraid of success?

I am not afraid of success…I wish I was successful.  I wish I could be writing this from Lisa Vanderplump’s mansion in Beverly Hill right now.  That would be totally awesome.  What I am afraid of is raising two monsters who will grow up being cared for by a series of nannies and after-school programs to be fat, disrespectful, idiots with no family values.

I have mentioned that I sell push-up bras part-time.”  That 20 hours of menial work has taken me away from conferences, games and having dinner with my family many times.  If my little job takes up my time, let’s try to imagine all the time that it takes for Sheryl to be a COO of a Fortune 500 company.

Let’s face facts, there’s no way that Sheryl is interacting regularly or (dare I say), as much as she should with her children, and she states in the book that she herself has grappled with guilt and concern for her children.

Her message is push that guilt and worry aside and reach for the gold! You can do it women!!

Great Sheryl - now you are even making the women who are working feel bad.  Can’t you just enjoy the view from your spacious Facebook office and your Louboutin and white sweater collection and leave us alone?

Look at my "leaning" tower of magazines that I haven't gotten to yet....(and yes instead of learning his alphabet enjoys drawing moustaches on models...so what?)

Oh Sheryl speaking of “leaning”….look at my “leaning” tower of magazines that I haven’t gotten to yet….(and yes instead of learning his alphabet Sam enjoys drawing moustaches on models…so what?)

I have chosen to bring these two boys to life and I feel it’s my responsiblity to be with them as much as I can.  I have to say Sheryl say she does not look down upon stay-at-home parents, she just secretly thinks we are all big fat losers.

I would love nothing more than to go full-steam ahead with my push-up bra career, but to what end?  We have to be real – when you choose to “lean in” and focus so intently on career, who are leaving something or someone behind.  That is just fact.

Who is watching this woman’s children? Who is tucking them in at night? Who is getting them off of the bus or watching their soccer game?  If  hired help or even a husband is doing all of that, then that is a very conscious decision that one must make as a mother.

Oh Sheryl, look at these leaning condiments...do you think they are just going to replace themselves??

Oh and Sheryl, look at these leaning condiments…do you think they are just going to replace themselves??

Sheryl says on her blog, “Together, we can create a world where everyone—women and men, girls and boys—has true choice and equal opportunity to follow his or her dreams.”

She seems very nice and positive, but this is simply not true.

I have said many times that Mr. Gaga is extremely supportive, very helpful with the children and the household chores, and is possibly one of the most patient and loving men I know.   Yet none of that takes any weight off my shoulders.  Simply because he is not a mom, he will never be a mom and that is innately the trouble with this whole debate.

We will never be equal.  Men and women are inherently different and always will be.  Maybe we would feel better if we could accept that a little bit, take off our power suits and just know that there are no answers to having it all and there never will be.

For my purposes, I am decidedly “leaning out.”  With no real Fortune magazine-worthy career to escape to….I am here for the better part of Sam and Michael’s childhood wallowing in guilt and self-pity just as much as all of the working moms are for different reasons.

This was the last time I "leaned in" for something. I was trying to listen to the weather report to be sure I heard correctly that my kids would have their 10th day off from school due to snow.

This is me “leaning in” to make sure I am hearing correctly all of the insane bullshit that mothers say aloud in this town on a regular basis….

I asked a friend (who appears to juggle 3 children’s busy activities, a household and a career with “gusto.”) if she was happy with her life.

Her answer was very interesting to me.  She thought about it and went on to list some concerns, stuff she worries about and some parenting she thinks could use improvement on.  She stopped to think about other moms she knew that seemed to be “doing it all.”

She said , “You know now that I think about it I can’t think of one mother I know that would answer that question by saying, ‘Yes, I think I am doing a great job.”

Isn’t that sad? Isn’t it the crux of everything? That we will never be fulfilled either way?

And do people have to keep writing books and talking about it in circles?

LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE SHERYL!! YOU ARE FREAKING US OUT!!!

Can’t I just watch Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and eat 500 Cadbury mini eggs in peace?

Now off she goes to sell 80 million books and rake in some more dough because basically we are so desperate for answers we will read anything.

Sigh.

You know things are bad when I miss “50 Shades of Gray.”

IF YOU LIKE THIS POST PLEASE SHARE ON FACEBOOK THIS WEEK!! I GREATLY APPRECIATE IT;)

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

Kiss me…you’re Irish


My mother is 100% Irish and my father is 100% Italian.  Same goes for Mr. Gaga.

As luck would have it, I am 100% Italian and Mr. Gaga is 100% Irish.

Being married to an Irish person can be good and bad.

Here are some indicators that your husband and children are Irish:

They can drink you under the table: – Most stereotypes don’t come out of thin air.  These people can drink all day and night with little to no repercussions.

There’s no hangover…no throwing up.

The only people who suffer are the sober people who have to be in their company.  In my case, I learned long ago that I will never be able to keep up with the Irish in the drinking department.   While my Irish girlfriends were dancing on the bar in the Bronx, I was home vomiting.

Mr. Gaga is always the life of the party…and has yet to ever wake up one morning of his life and say “I’m never doing that again.”

Irish eyes are smiling:  It’s good to be with someone who has a smiley face, like Mr. Gaga.

I definitely have something that can certainly be described as a “frowny face.”

This has proven to be off-putting.   My neighbor told me that when she first moved to the neighborhood, some lady on my street (who I spoke two words to in my life) told her about the Gaga’s.  She said  “The husband is really nice, but stay away from the wife….she’s a total bitch.”  This is a common theme.

Thankfully, sometimes it seems that the friendliness that radiates from his Irish face, kind of cancels out my bitch face…and we become a little more approachable as a couple.

Somehow this face makes people feel better after they interact with

Somehow this face makes people feel better after they interact with…

this...

this face…

 

They can fight: Yet another stereotype that just happens to be true.  Mr. Gaga is non-confrontational to a fault, but if the shit hits the fan I know he can take everyone down.  He’s very happy and nice, but if pushed too far, he can get crazy.

Don’t be fooled by his smiling eyes or his intoxication….he will fuck you up.

Their taste buds don’t work properly: I believe it is because their ancestors spent centuries gnawing on rotten potatoes in the rain or something, but both my husband and mother have taste buds that don’t function.

As a result they douse everything they eat with inappropriate seasonings and sauces.

When we all eat together my mother spends the first ten minutes of the meal “peppering her food.” While we eat, she literally sits at her seat shaking salt and pepper shakers madly.

 

I finished my dinner tonight right around the time my mother had just finished "salt and peppering" hers...Who wants to eat this much pepper????

I finished my dinner tonight right around the time my mother had just finished “salt and peppering” hers…Who in their right mind wants to eat this much pepper????

 

Mr. Gaga takes it one step further and mixes every sauce he can find together and dips his meat into it.

Needless to say, my delicious Italian food does not need this kind of treatment.  I beg him to eat food as it is prepared.  It’s heartbreaking to see him dip my chicken cutlets into this shit.

Every night he mixes all of this into a ramekin and dips food into it....Does that seem normal???

Every night he mixes all of this into a ramekin and dips food into it….Does that seem normal???

“Why are you doing this? This chicken cutlet is delicious!”

“I like it this way,” he says as he dips it into the revolting concoction.

“It’s rude to the chicken cutlet! You can’t even taste it anymore!”

I plead…to no avail.

They have blatant disregard for food:   I guess it may be due to the dysfunctional taste buds, but food is merely a means of survival for the Irish.

I could truly give my husband homemade pasta with a lobster sauce or Lucky Charms for dinner and he would be equally content either way.

It’s offensive.  However, on nights when I’m working or have had a crazy day there’s some comfort in knowing that I can offer a tunafish sandwich for supper and Mr. Gaga will be thrilled.

They are witty: In college, I lived with 7 Irish girls.  I never laughed so hard in my life.

Mr. Gaga also has been known to crack me up.

Sometimes so much so that I pee my pants.  Since I had kids….I am especially prone to having accidents.

Our first date after I had Sam, we got a babysitter and went to the movies.  When we left the theater and we were walking to the car, Mr. Gaga said something very funny.  I stopped walking, twisted my legs together to try to keep the pee in.  It didn’t work.

50 gallons of pee came pouring out in the middle of the crowds of people who were coming out of the movies, which actually just made me laugh harder.

Mr. Gaga ran away and left me.  He got his car and came back to pick me up where I stood in a pee puddle.  He found an old garbage bag in his truck and he made me wrap up in it before I sat on the seat in his truck.

We laughed the whole way home and then I snuck upstairs with my wet pants and garbage bag while he paid the babysitter.

There’s absolutely nothing better than laughter.

Because they can make people laugh, they take it too far:

Laughter is great.  The problem lies in the fact that when people think Mr. Gaga is the funniest person in the world, he starts to believe them.

When he’s out with friends or at work, he is “Mr. Personality”, shooting off one-liners and cracking jokes, and everyone thinks he’s a riot.

This was the work crowd last time he had to speak....

This was the crowd the last time he had to speak at work….

When he gets home, I am not always in the same jovial mood as his work people or his friends.  Sometimes he tries to crack the same jokes to me that worked wonderfully at work….

carrie

 

They are very white:  When you look like Snooki, you don’t expect to have to get involved with people who don’t like the sun.  Mr. Gaga sits out for a couple of hours on the beach before he starts crying and goes back in the house, and Michael wants to stay out but ends up roasting.

Caring for pasty-white children and husbands is super-annoying.  While Sam and I are tanning, the last thing we want to do is go back to the house because the other 2 annoying lobsters have sun poisoning.

This is Sam on playing on the beach.....

This is Sam playing on the beach…..

 

This is a picture of Mr. Gaga when we were in Miami...

This is a picture of Mr. Gaga when we were in Miami…

Loving the Irish can be a blessing or curse – but mostly its a blessing if you can disregard the hideous sunburns ……

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!!!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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

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A Meaningful Life


Here’s a little back story on Lady G.

I went to a prestigious New England prep school for highschool, where my horizons were broadened and I found a great appreciation for learning.

I went on to college, various internships and jobs in television production, PR, marketing.  Ultimately, Mr. Gaga and I ended up in Connecticut. I worked for a nonprofit doing program development, fundraising and grant writing.

Doing good works was not part of my plan. It’s not exactly what I thought was my cup of tea.

I found it a challenge, yet also found it fulfilling and worthwhile.  I felt good about working a 12 hour day to benefit sick children.  I felt much better about that than I did working a 12 hour day for Viacom.

When I was pregnant with Sam, the nonprofit shut its doors and I ended up home with a one-year-old, by default.

Something else that was not part of my plan.

While also rewarding and fulfilling in some ways, I have struggled to find myself and find meaning in life as a stay-at-home mom.

I have found it difficult to consider my children my sole reason for being.  I have shuddered to think that I was put on this earth to raise 2 children, grocery shop and keep the toilets clean.

Very early on I started working a mindless part-time job just to keep myself sane.  Let’s say for the sake of anonymity I sell push-up bras.  I help women to look good and feel good.  It’s fun. It’s harmless. Meaningful? Not so much.

This week I went to the CT Forum to hear a panel discussion on leading a meaningful life.

The panel included smart important people who were doing great things in the world.  One of the panelists was Tim Shriver, who besides being the son of Eunice Kennedy and Sargent Shriver, is the chairman of the Special Olympics.  He also went to Yale undergrad, and then to about 65 other schools to collect various degrees, and has 5 children, looks like a Kennedy, and is brother-in-laws with Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Around the time that Tim racked up yet another degree, I could be found doing very important works like emptying the dishwasher twice a day and organizing Legos.

Around the time that Tim racked up yet another degree, I could be found doing very important works like emptying the dishwasher twice a day and organizing Legos.

He was so dynamic when he spoke about the meaning of life, and how important it is to give back and to be someone who makes change in the world.

He has done so much and in the midst of it all his hair is always that perfect Kennedy hair that gives you hope and makes you feel all is right with the world.

It made me think about what I do.

You know…sell push up bras….clean the occasional toilet…..make dinner.

Hmmm.

Another panelist was a man named Larry Brilliant.  He has among other small tasks, headed the philanthropic arm of Google, cured 3 million people of blindness, and eradicated small pox.

The man is a genius, so I understand that I could never even dream of accomplishing anything that he has.

However the fact that while these people are changing the world, I am earnestly attempting to teach my husband and kids how to change the toilet paper, I literally cannot keep track of the socks of the 4 people who live in my house and  I have looked at my 2nd grader’s homework and found it overwhelming….probably indicates a slight problem.

“What am I going to do with my life?  You don’t understand because you have a purpose and your life has meaning….” I said to Mr. Gaga the next day with despair.

“Your life has meaning too, with your family.” he answered simply.

“That’s it? That’s my whole life? Just being a mom?” I asked incredulously.

“Yup.”

“What? That can’t be it! I don’t even think I am doing a good job with that…they watch SpongeBob and swear.” I said throwing myself onto my bed with dramatics.

“What will my tombstone say? Here lies Lady G, she sold push-up bras and called kids assholes on her blog?  And what about when the kids leave? What will I do then??”

“It will be time for us to be together, and enjoy life.” he said with a smile, imagining us probably on a beach somewhere loving each other.

All I could see in my mind were the creepy old people in the Cymbalta ad.

“WHAT?? NO!!!! I hate that plan!!! That’s a horrible plan!!!!

I stayed home emptying the dishwasher for 20 years for this?

I stayed home emptying the dishwasher for 20 years for this?

“Ok, great!” Mr. Gaga answered sarcastically, “Then go get a job you crazy bitch!”

(He didn’t say “crazy bitch” but I could see it in his eyeballs that he wanted to. He generally is very nice and patient, but can only take so much.)

Well, you will probably be working and the kids will be gone, and I will be home with like 5 cats….I guess I will just stare out the window and pet the cats all day.” I said with disgust.

“We are not getting cats….I hate cats.” he said firmly.

“So do I!!! I would never want a cat…but I think that when you are alone all the time with nothing to do that’s what happens! That’s the point! Your life is so boring and empty that you forget that you hate cats and you turn into a crazy cat lady.”

He just stared at me.

cats

How can I raise two children successfully and be fully invested in that, and still find a way to preserve a piece of myself, while simultaneously keeping Mr. Gaga around?

Does anyone have the answers??

This is probably why I have the tendency to be Lindsay Lohan…..just sayin.

It’s just not as easy as Tim Shriver’s hair makes it look.

PLEASE CLICK THE LINK BELOW …IT WILL MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I HAVE A PLACE IN THE WORLD….XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Foul Balls


Some weeks, as Sunday approaches I start to get nervous.

Some weeks go by in a flash and nothing outrageous has happened. I start to worry about what I will blog about.  Sometimes I think, maybe everyone is starting to be normal and life is boring and there’s nothing to say.

But then – I just venture out into my INSANE town that is FILLED with LUNATICS and I will always have some material to work with.

My schedule worked out this weekend so I was able to make it to the kids basketball games Saturday morning before work.  I have missed a bunch, so the kids were happy to have me there.  Sam’s game went well and we moved over to the next court for Michael’s game immediately following.

I only knew one mother there and sat down next to her.  This happened to be the mother I know who always posts on Facebook “how blessed she is to be homeschooling.”  You might imagine we have very little in common.

We made small talk while Michael was lining up with his teammates to start his game.  A boy he doesn’t know was behind him and kicked him in the back of the leg for no reason.  Michael turned to face him.

“Stop kicking!” he said to the kid.

The kid just looked at him and wound up and kicked him hard in the privates.

Michael hunched over in pain and started crying.  I sat on the bleachers slack-jawed watching the coach reprimand the penis-kicker.   My mind raced as to what would be the way to respond to this assault.

It would be a perfect time for Michael to turn into a wolf but that seemed unlikely.

mjfox

teen wolf dunk

I’m sorry – but by the way, does it seem strange that we fully accepted this as a quality cinematic production starring Michael J. Fox? Look at his legs please.

The coach ran over and sent the “junk-kicker” over to his dad on the bleachers.

I stared down the kid with a look of disgust and horror as much as I could but he didn’t even glance my way. I whipped my head around to adjust my squinty eyeball glare towards the Dad but he didn’t care either.

I tried to size up the situation and figure out why both of these people were immune to my evil glare and realized that the father was a huge Richie Cunningham look-alike with what seemed to be the same nerdy disposition.

I almost could swear I saw this guy on the sidelines encouraging his kid to be an asshole...

I could swear I saw this guy on the sidelines doing this to his kid when he kicked Michael…

He didn’t say ONE WORD to his balls-kicking devil child, and he didn’t say ONE WORD TO US OR MICHAEL as tears poured down his cheeks and Mr. Gaga took him to the bathroom to assess the situation.

You know what Opie – maybe say you are sorry that your son is a huge douchebag….or say “I am so sorry that Michael is infertile now because my kid is a testicle-destroying asshole.”

At the very least make some sort of show pretending to reprimand your kid.

Any appropriate response will do.

None of that happened.  Nothing happened.  It was as though I was in the twilight zone.

While my son was now missing the start of his game, the balls-kicker sat on Richie Cunningham’s lap and stared straight ahead watching the game.

Smoke poured out of my ears while I desperately thought how I could properly punish these horrible people.

When Michael came back from the bathroom with pink cheeks and puffy eyes I called him over.

“If that kid touches you one more time – you have permission to punch him as hard as you can in the face.” I said furiously and loudly.

Mr. Gaga stared at me with alarm as Michael ran onto the court.

“What?” I demanded.

“Everyone is staring at you now, maybe you should go to work.” he whispered.

“I don’t care.”

I started to get my stuff together to leave for work and guess who decided to pipe in with her two cents?

Homeschooling blessed mom!!!

“You know…you are not telling Michael the right thing to do….” she said with a smile.

Did this bitch have a death wish or what?
“Um, I am teaching my child to defend himself and not just stand around getting kicked in the balls by a maniac who has a father that allows such behavior.”

She continued to smile and said “Hitting is not the answer.”

I was going to lose my mind.

“Listen, when you ever let your kids venture out of your house – you might find that the real world is a little rough – and your kids are going to get their asses kicked…..If Michael punches that kid today I will give him a high-five.”

She looked at me and shook her head and said sadly, “I know you will.”

I took that moment to exit the gym.  I called a friend on the way to work to relay the story, who thankfully agreed that the whole scenario was obscene.  Then she gave me a great idea.

“Maybe next weekend, if that mom is there just go up to her and kick her in the crotch and see what happens.”

Maybe I will just start doing it to everyone I don't like.....

Maybe I will just start doing it to everyone I don’t like…..

Basketball games just got a lot more fun.

Linking to “I don’t like Mondays blog hop”

TILL NEXT WEEK!!! PLEASE CLICK BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME !!!   XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Eff the Presidents it’s my birthday!!


I mean is it really necessary to not have school or mail because about 800 years ago someone was born that later became president?

Am I trivializing this too much?

It seems a little dramatic.

Does the bank really have to be closed for this occasion?

I say we update things a bit…maybe reevaluate who has done some important stuff lately – and maybe shut down the entire world for their birthday?

Call me crazy – but I think some people have done some amazing things since the 1800′s.  Did the birthday committee lose steam or something? What about even Henry Ford or Thomas Edison, I think we would be in a bit of trouble without those two guys.

I would even be down with a Steve Jobs birthday day off or a “Guy who invented the DVR” birthday celebration… It just seems to me that we are overlooking a lot of birthdays.  I am just throwing that out there.

Anyhoo….while everyone is super excited to be celebrating someone’s birthday who would be 281 years old today, do you know who else’s birthday it is?

Mine!

Yes – Lady goo goo gaga is now 2!

You know how I despise people who announce that they are “blessed” in various inappropriate public forums?

Well….you heard it here first people.  I feel blessed to have people who tune in to read my words each week.  Two years is a long time to stick by me and listen to me complain and talk shit about motherhood, and I appreciate it.

I am going to take this opportunity to thank some people without which I would have no blog…because basically I would have no material.

First and foremost, thank you people at my bus stop.  You have all never failed for the past 7 years at doing your very best to be white trash assholes at the ungodly hours of the morning.  I especially want to thank the new addition, a dad who comes every morning and shaves his face on the sidewalk with a Norelco electric razor.  As if the mornings aren’t bad enough, why do I have to watch and LISTEN to your mangrooming?  How would you like it if I started doing my bikini wax at the bus stop? Oh by the way, you will be finding out as soon as the snow melts.

This isn't me - but we are thinking the same thing - I don't know where my kids are - and I don't care.

This is how I will be waiting for the bus come the spring….except I will be ripping hot wax from my bikini line…how does that sound Norelco guy?

Secondly, thank you Catholic church.   You never cease to amaze me.  This past week I took Michael to get ashes on Ash Wednesday.  Your cult-like tendencies and bizarre rules, which for example, meant that I had to walk around with a big patch of dirt on my face all day never disappoint.   When the Pope looks around and says “I’m too old for this shit,” we might need to take a closer look.

I will NOT do one more Ash Wednesday...I am so fucking out of here.

I will NOT do one more Ash Wednesday…I am so fucking out of here.

Thirdly, I would like to thank Hollywood moms and wives.  I am so lucky to have a glimpse into the lives of celebrity via my “Stars their just like us,” page of my US Weekly magazine.  Without this, I would never have had the pleasure of being able to address some of my concerns to Kim Kardashian, and Alicia Silverstone, and warn Beyonce about the perils of having a baby.

Maybe for your next single, "Married Ladies" - you can say "If you like it - put a Nuva Ring in it"......

Maybe for your next single, “Married Ladies” – you can say “If you like it – put a Nuva Ring in it”……

Next, Mr. Gaga, where would I be without him? I am so lucky to always have his support and understanding when I disappear on Sunday nights to blog.  Even though I heard him once asking the person at the bank if they accept “LOL’s” as mortgage payment, I know that he secretly likes this little blog.

He understands me.  He understands that I am not the best house cleaner, and that sometimes I struggle with being a stay-at-home mom.  He knows that even when it seems like I have all day to accomplish things, I might get side-tracked and not get to my weekly moustache waxing, and he still loves me.

My day was boring, I volunteered at the school and then I was going to clean the whole house from top to bottom but I forgot I promised a friend to volunteer at a soup kitchen today......

My day was boring, I volunteered at the school and then I was going to clean the whole house from top to bottom but I forgot I promised a friend to volunteer at a soup kitchen today……

Also, he inspires me.  When you live with someone who repeatedly looks at you with a straight face and says “That’s not funny,” it makes you try a little harder. It makes you want to go that extra mile and call a small child a twat. Thank you Mr. Gaga.

I could never forget to thank Chuck E. Cheese, for being one of the absolute most vile and appalling environments where human beings congregate.  I have been so disturbed by this establishment that I have blogged three times with fresh material about this hell on earth.

Thank you State of Connecticut.  If I wasn’t continually tortured by snowstorms and hurricanes I wonder if I would be more pleasant.  I wonder if I didn’t have to continually have no power or plowed roads if I might not be so inclined to call the people at my bus stop douchebags or curse out the people at Pottery Barn.    I imagine a world where Lady Goo Goo Gaga is content and happy as one that would be quite boring and not blogworthy.

And finally, thank you mothers of today.

Thank you for being absurd, overprotective morons.

Thank you for making your kids’ sandwich in the shape of a daisy, thank you for not combing your child’s hair because it might hurt,  thank you for sitting home reading 50 Shades of Gray and considering it a good read, thank you for eating your own placenta and chewing your baby’s food for him and spitting it into his mouth, thank you for letting your son’s cry during the baseball game because they struck out, and thank you for tricking me into coming to your house for a playdate when I hate you and your child.  Without all of you, I would have nothing to say each week.

Keep it coming people….don’t let me down.

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED FOR ME OVER THE PAST COUPLE OF WEEKS AT THE CIRCLE OF MOMS WEBSITE!  I AM SURE MY THERAPIST WILL HELP ME GET OVER THE FACT THAT I WAS VOTED THE 89TH FUNNIEST MOM BLOG….

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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Jingle Hell


So – I signed up a while ago to a service in town – where moms could receive emails regarding pertinent information about children, parenting etc.  Some reasonable uses of the service would be say – “Does anyone know the best pediatric dentist in town?” or “Where is a good place to go for piano lessons?” or “Has anyone ever been to the indoor water park in Waterbury?”

Many people for one reason or another ask inappropriate questions and what I consider inappropriate requests to  a community of unknown mothers in town.  The constant stream of ridiculous emails is enough to send you off the deep end – see below for the latest offense this week (and for those of you who still think I make this stuff up – this is word-for-word!!:

Subject: Advice

>

> You all have been great in giving advice in the past that I thought I’d

run something by you. What do you tell a 2-yr old about Santa? I would like for him to believe in Santa but my husband says that there’s no reason for him to.  That he should know that we buy his gifts because we love him. Has anyone else made the decision to tell their kids that Santa isn’t real? What did you say and  what  was the outcome?

Also…does anyone know where I can get K-Cups (for a Keurig coffee maker)

for a cheaper price? At the grocery store they’re $8.99 for

a box of 12 and I was informed today that they’re going up.

Thanks in advance! You all are awesome! Love, Jenny

>

Hi Jenny – Thanks for calling us all awesome!!

You know who is not awesome?

You!

Just so you know – it’s September!!  And Christmas is not really top on everyone’s to-do list but since you asked……

Many families were grappling last week with remembering the loss of loved ones on September 11th, and probably
thinking about one day explaining this horrible day to their children. 

In this economy, I know many families who are struggling with telling their kids that they might not have any presents at Christmas because their mom or dad (or both) have lost their job. 

Nationwide – parents will be figuring out where Christmas will be this year because their home was washed away in a flood or hurricane or lost in a foreclosure. 

But your husband is right!!

You should totally shower your 2-year-old child with
“gifts of love” and then tell him they are all from you!!

We live in a nation that at the 10-year anniversary of September 11, 2001 is still at war, close to 10 percent of our nation is unemployed,  millions don’t have access to healthcare while facing deadly incurable diseases like cancer and AIDS, 1 out of 110 children are diagnosed with autism and global warming is destroying or ending people’s lives all over the world.

That being said – I can totally see why what little happiness your child might have before facing the harsh
realities of adulthood, should be ripped away from him – all so he can properly thank your husband for the $200 of Little Tykes crap he bought at the Toys R’ Us.

I mean really – why should Santa get all of the credit?

And by the way your husband sounds like a real peach!  Wherever did you find him? It’s so rare to find a good man who is not an ego-maniac!! Lucky!!

He also sounds super-intelligent and super in-touch with childhood development.  Does he have a PhD in this subject?  

I know that he is so looking forward to the day when he can announce to a group of people that he has chosen to ruin his child’s life  tell his child that there is no such thing as Santa  – so that everyone knows that he is “above” such silly rituals.

Oops – small problem – Jenny!  Your douche-bag super-awesome hubby – failed to read the chapter in his PhD textbook that discussed the fact that 2 -year- olds…..(and I quote from a real medical textbook on childhood development)

pg. 201- “Don’t give two flying fucks who gave them the Little Tykes crap.”

They don’t even get the concept of receiving a gift yet  – so when you have this all-important convo to break the bad news…..guess what?

You will have the same convo next Christmas when he’s three – and then probably again when he’s four.

He will not even remember your “love gifts”  – let alone who gave them to him.

Oh – and Jenny – one more thing – when you have this sit-down – could you do us a favor and let him know that you 2 are the only ass-hats that are doing this?

The rest of us quite enjoy lying to our kids and letting them experience little emotions called “joy” and “wonderment” and don’t need you and your tortured child ruining it.

Thanks!! That would be super-awesome!

In closing – I see you had a little question about coffee cups!  Who doesn’t right? LOL!

Well – I notice that you sent your email via Blackberry – which means that you’re savvy enough to use modern technology – but what you might not realize is that there is this little thing called a newspaper.

Inside it – usually once a week – you will find something called a circular! Each store actually lists their sale items using photos as well as extra-large bold text that will state the sale price – like
$1.99!!!!!

Oh - by the way - I had a sec - and I googled Keurig sale - and it said there were about 1,200,700 results you dumb bitch.......

It is super-easy to read and very user-friendly – maybe even more so than your Blackberry!

If you feel like you still cannot find a good price for your Keurig coffee cups – don’t hesitate to shoot us another email.  We will all stop what we are doing  (you know because we are all stupid morons that believe in Santa) and find the best price for your coffee!!

Hope this helps!

Your friend – LADY GOO GOO GAGA

PS – I sent a copy of your email to Santa – and this was his reply – ( he asked that I pass it along to you)
:

>

>Do you see how passionate I am about the happiness and welfare of children????  You should click this banner for me – just sayin…..

ALSO – IF YOU LIKE THIS -PLEASE SHARE ON FACEBOOK BY CLICKING THE SHARE BUTTON AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE AND HIT FACEBOOK – LET’S GET THE WORD OUT THAT IT IS NOT OK TO TORTURE TWO-YEAR OLDS!!!!!!

Thank you!!!!!!

 

Linking to  Pour your Heart Out

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