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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…’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 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.


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!





Who let the dogs out?

I thought it would be nice if I featured a Dad on my blog for Father’s Day. 

My brother recently mentioned he had a little pet peeve he wanted to discuss on my airwaves, so this is the perfect week for him to guest blog!

You remember my brother right?

The one who said I was a horrible mother because I don’t wake up in the night to care for my children.…and the one who says that my house is dirty….and the one who tells me I am a hypocrite for bringing my kids to CCD???

Yeah – that brother….

Here he is:

Let me start by saying that I feel that I have been wholly misrepresented in these posts.  First of all, I am not an atheist.  I just don’t care for the Catholic church, and feel that people like my sister, who literally think Jesus Drove A Car, should not call themselves Catholic. 

Secondly, in response to one other blogger who was “sick of my constant judging,” I defy you to spend one day with my sister.  I guarantee you would kill yourself. 

Her permanent scowl, angry eyebrows, and silent judging are legendary.  She can bore holes through you with one icy glare, and reduce you to tears with one comment, as she did to every single girl I ever dated. 


Lastly, in regards to last week’s post, although I did do a “crazy windmill,” my sister neglected to mention that I punched that asshole in the face at least twice.

With that out-of-the-way,  I am also a parent.  I have a daughter, Stella, who will be two in July. 

Last Sunday, my wife and I took her to the town fair.  (It’s actually called “Celebrate the Town,”  because fairs are for white trash towns, I guess.) 

Meanwhile, the whole thing is filled with rides, cotton candy, fried dough, and fat people.  So yeah, it’s a fair.  As we walked through the main entrance with our not yet two-year old, there was a commotion:  three dogs were killing each other directly in front of us.

“Oh my goodness!”  exclaimed the owner of the largest dog as she pulled him away from the two smaller ones.  The owner of the two smaller dogs appropriately ran for her life.

As the three of us made our way into the maze of tents filled with people selling things, there sat the murderous dog, licking the blood off of his fangs and paws.  The owner was a vendor! 

Apparently she thought it would be a good idea to bring a completely unhinged dog to a place full of children to help sell her homemade crafts!

Nice idea, you moron! I’m totally going to bring my daughter into your tent and buy some of your wares!

The rest of the day was a haze of fat people and dogs.  I am not kidding when I say that every third person at this event had a dog with them.  As if it’s not hard enough to maneuver a stroller through a sea of fat asses, now I have to stop and wait for fucking dogs to move out-of-the-way? 

I was already well on my way to going completely apeshit when it happened.  I looked away for two seconds, and when I turned back, a german shepherd on a leash so obscenely long that his owner was actually out of sight, was eating the hot dog right out of Stella’s hand!

“That is it! We are out of here!”  I screamed. 

As I was driving home with white knuckles and smoke billowing from my ears, a question occurred to me.   

 When did dogs and children become equals? 

I mean, I know I’ve been a bit preoccupied these past two years, but seriously, when did this happen?  I feel like the guys at the end of Planet of The Apes, for Christ’s sake!  Allow me to illustrate with a recent Facebook post from a relative of mine.

This picture was posted on Facebook with the status “Puppy Pedi time for Italia! (the dog’s name) Good little doggies get to go to Groomingdales for their birthdays!”

 I should also point out that this is the same dog that tackled a one year old Stella to the ground in order to eat the ears off of her head, and then a few weeks later bit my nephew Michael and drew blood. 

I know:  Super good dog, right?!  I mean, if any dog deserves a doggy mani at groomingdales . . .

Seriously though, why is this ok?  I mean parents have to occasionally post things about their kids, but that is only because it is expected of us! 

Nobody on earth expects a dog to get a pedicure.  I mean I just think that annoying parental traits should be reserved for people who are parents to humans.  Not dogs.  Take this classic bumper sticker as an example:

Well this is just untrue! I know that your dog seems really smart, but that is only because you are a slow adult.

 About a month ago, I found a pile of new clothes that my wife had bought for Stella.  As I was dressing Stella, my wife  came flying into the room.          

“Don’t put those on!!  I haven’t washed them yet!!”

I became annoyed.  My wife can be a bit crazy when it comes to cleaning; clothes in particular.  (Did I say a bit crazy?  I meant to say Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.)

This is what my wife wanted Stella to wear to her first day of daycare. Now we only use it if we’re going to Auntie Gaga’s house.

“It’s fine, they’re brand new” I snapped.

“I know, but they’re covered in dog hair!” She pleaded.

Wait, what?

“Why would they be covered in dog hair?”

“Because the store was filled with dogs!”

“Inside the store? Where?”

“Yes, inside the store.  At Evergreen Walk!”

“Oh, that’s weird.  Was it like a blind field trip or something?”

“What?  What are you talking about?”

“You said the whole store was filled with dogs.  I just assumed they were seeing eye dogs?”

“No, just regular dogs.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you can just bring a dog into a store that sells clothing for no good reason?”

“Apparently.  I’m going to go wash these.”

 Really, Evergreen Walk? 


Do you know what I would do if I wanted my daughter to be covered with dog hair and smell like feces?  I WOULD BUY A FUCKING DOG!  I mean what’s next?  “Customer with Dog” parking at the Big Y?

This looks like a great place to pick up some produce. Don’t forget your tape roller!

 There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding going on with dog owners.  Apparently at some point during the last two years, someone told them that dogs are just like children, and can be brought to all the same places.  Not true.

 We have to take our kids and babies everywhere! 

We don’t have the luxury of leaving them home! 

You think that if I could just pour some water in a bowl and open a can of Alpo for Stella I wouldn’t peel wheels out of the house? 

My sister actually has done that! 

But really, we shouldn’t leave our kids alone.  Our only choice is to hire a babysitter, which doubles the cost of any outing!  That is why our kids are always with us!  Not because its fun, or cute, or we think that we should subject other people to them!

In closing, I would like to say that I actually do like dogs.  My sister and I had two Golden retrievers when we were younger, and we absolutely adored them!  But, when we left the house, they stayed home.  Because that is what dogs do.   They don’t go to fairs,  they don’t go shopping for clothes or groceries, and they absolutely do not go into establishments that serve food!!! 

                Finally I would like to say to all of the fathers, (Of Human Children!)


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