Category Archives: Jackassery

Can We Play Security Checkpoint Again, Mommy?

Just in case your family can’t get enough of the good times had at American airports these days, PlayMobil has two new toys that will allow your kids to relive those super fun airport security searches whenever they want. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the most ridiculous toys of the year thus far…

Playmobil Security Checkpoint (ages 4-7) and Playmobil Police Checkpoint (ages 10 and up and only ONE left in stock at right now…HURRY!!!!)

You Shouldn’t Taunt Crazy People

Oh. Mygod. I have to blog about this demented, idiotic woman that I encountered today, if only to be vindicated by the very smart and attractive people of the internet. I’ll try to keep it brief (although it bears repeating that brevity has never been my strong suit.)

Okay, so I’m driving down a neighborhood street and on the opposite side of the street, all these construction worker people have parallel parked their trucks so that lane is effectively blocked. As I get about halfway down the street, this car comes swinging out from behind one of the parked cars down the block and proceeds to come right at me. Not stopping. Just driving right up to my bumper.

Of course, I have stopped because I cannot comprehend the douchebaggery before my eyes. And, well, because I really don’t want to have a head on collision with the douchemobile speeding towards me. So there we are, bumper to bumper and the woman starts honking her horn over and over and gesturing to me that I should back up and I’m stunned that someone would actually have the nerve to demand I move when they are clearly in the wrong.  So naturally my response is something along the lines of “No way! YOU back up!”

The logic behind my thinking is this… They are driving the wrong way in MY lane. I am in my lane, on the RIGHT side of the street and going in the proper direction. THEY are trying to pass parked cars and they are supposed to wait until the opposite lane is free of traffic, just like you would pass on ANY two lane road. Am I right?

So anyway, this crazy b*tch starts yelling and screaming and cussing at me and then she’s all “I have all day! I’m not moving!”  And I lean out the window and I’m like “YOU are in the wrong lane so YOU are supposed to move. Anyone who actually knows how to drive knows that!”

And she proceeds to scream at me “There are parked cars in my lane! Expletive! Expletive Expletive!” And I go “That’s not my problem! You’re not supposed to drive into oncoming traffic, you moron!”  And she blares her horn some more, like 40 times, and yells and screams and flips me off and says she’s going to kick my ass. This is a fifty something year old woman with a handicapped thing on her mirror so, of course, this makes me laugh, which just pisses her off more. Then her male passenger chimes in and starts cussing at me, too. Great. Now it’s crazy times 2.

At this point, there are now cars behind me and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, which I didn’t. So we sit there having this little standoff and I really just want to get out of my car and do something violent to her because my ice cream is starting to melt and it’s getting close to school dismissal time and I’m starting to feel a bit anxious. I don’t DO anxious.

But now I can’t move in either direction so I finally call the non-emergency police dispatch and a few minutes later a very annoyed cop comes, tells her she has to move because she’s in the wrong lane and tells me I shouldn’t taunt crazy people (I was taunting HER???) because 50% of drivers in Florida are carrying guns.

Oh.  *wondering why I am not part of that 50%*

By then the cars behind me have all backed up and left, so just to cheese her off, I back up and leave down a side street.

HA HA HAAAAA you crazy f*cking wacko! I was right and you were wrong! I was right and you were wrong!

(Leaving for Nashville/BlissDom tomorrow so this will be my last missive until probably Monday. You guys be good and keep the riff raff outta here for me, okay?)

Have We Learned Nothing from Britney?

Um yeah, it’s me…weighing in on the already somewhat yawnworthy topic of Miley Cyrus’ photos in Vanity Fair because the world really NEEDS one more opinion on the matter.

Simply put, I think the photos were inappropriate for a fifteen year old girl.

Really, the one with her dad kind of made my skin crawl. They really looked more like lovers than father and daughter. It’s just…ewww. Yick.

And I know somebody is going to say that it’s because my mind is in the gutter that I feel that way and that shot is beautiful and to that I will say, “Shut up and go sit over there with Rosie O’ Donnell (who frankly scares me a bit when she gets on her web cam all close-up and stuff).

As for the other photo — please. Someone could sit here all day long coming up with reasons why it’s not an objectionable photo and I will shrug my shoulders and say “Okay, if you think sexualizing young girls is alright…”

See, it’s not a question of whether she’s fifteen and got raging hormones or because all teenage girls like to try their hand at being sexy and grown up blah blah. That’s probably all true and I don’t begrudge Cyrus the right to grow up. Miley herself is not the problem. The problem is that she appeared in a magazine geared toward adults in a bedheaded, come-hither Brigitte Bardot pose and she’s a child. Sexualizing her like that, no matter how much she might think it’s cool and edgy, is messed up. Period.

And I don’t give a flying fig (my dorky new substitute for the F word) about Annie Leibovitz or how awesometastical her work is. If asking a child to pose like that is the pinnacle of her creativity, then she’s all washed up and should consider retiring and if she couldn’t see this sh!tstorm coming from a mile away then she’s stupid, too.

The real coup would have been to portray Miley in an interesting and different way from her teen idol persona without resorting to that tired old standby of a half-dressed female. Christalmighty, I’ve seen innumerable half naked women and a lot of weird eroticized pregnant bellies and all sorts of other wack bullshit on the cover of Vanity Fair and it’s actually just so trite. And edgy? Please. Is it really edgy when everyone is doing it?

The fact that the primary responsible adults in Miley’s life left the shoot before it was over and didn’t bother, so it seems, to get something in the contract stating that said they must approve the photos before publication says to me that they are all very naive (they’re not) or that they really don’t care about Miley as long as she continues her run as the golden goose of the Cyrus family.

Sorry. It’s hard not to be cynical because seriously, this “innocent ingenue blossoming into a sexy ‘not a girl not yet a woman’ ” routine? It seems, I don’t know..a little…familiar? Perhaps it’s time to stop making kids into megastars and let them be kids so we won’t be so horrified when they try to grow up.

And to all the parents out there crying about how your child’s role model has disappointed you and how shocked you are etc. please, take this ticket and GET ON THE CLUE TRAIN because seriously — what did you expect? Have we learned nothing from Britney?

I saw this one mom on TV going on and on about how much her five year old loves Hannah Montana and how this is so distressing for her. Your FIVE year old? Why is your FIVE year old watching a TV show about a teenager who’s a secret rock star ANYWAY? Little kids should be watching shows made for little kids. They already grow up way too fast. Why speed the plow?

And Disney*? Seriously, WHY is the target demographic for Hannah Montana 6-14 year olds? Like 14 yr olds are going to be entertained by TV fare appropriate for a 6 year old? No. Of course not. But a 6 yr old is more than happy to watch something better suited to a tween or teen and therein lies the problem.

If you allow kids the opportunity to start idolizing a teen celebrity you will always be disappointed because guess what? Like little puppies and kittens, they always grow up and suddenly they’re not so cute anymore. They’re flashing their crotch every other night (Britney) and getting knocked up at 16 (Jamie Lynn) and making headlines for their sex tape (Paris) and nude photos on the internet (Vanessa). And your innocent child, most likely a little girl, is right there taking it all in while you fumble for the right words to explain why the object of her adoration decided to do whatever stupid thing she did.

At one point, my daughter really wanted to watch Hannah Montana (and yes I have seen it). But we don’t let her. She’s allowed to listen to her songs and that’s it. We’ve avoided the whole Hannah Montana marketing juggernaut, the ridiculous ticket prices for shows that sell out in five minutes and an assload of cheap Hannah Montana-branded crap littering our house. Instead of obsessing over a fake/real/??? rock star, my daughter spends time reading, playing outside and doing a lot of imaginative and creative things. I’m not saying she doesn’t watch TV, because she does, but she watches things that are better suited to a child her age. Why? Because I don’t want her fixating on a teenage celebrity who will eventually do something that is well beyond the understanding of a thankfully unsophisticated seven year old. Oh wait…that’s already happened. Heh.

I apologize in advance for the judgmental tone but really, I’m rather relieved to not have to explain a single thing about Miley Cyrus to my child and I’m really glad I’m not afraid to say “no” to either of my children. The world wants to consumerize, demographize, commoditize, homogenize and, sadly, sexualize our kids as soon as they’re able to and I intend to fight it for as long as I can.

Opposing viewpoints are welcome but be nice.

(While I’ve got you here, check out this Disney billboard in China WTF????????)

The Free Ride is Over, Mama

In a recent discussion with my mother-in-law, I lamented over the fact that her late husband told us he’d set up a pre-paid college plan for my daughter but as it happens, he didn’t. It’s put us way behind in saving for college. And yes, I’m kind of irritated.

Now as in-laws go, I could have done worse and for that I’m thankful but not quite so thankful when she said “You’ll just have to go back to work when P goes to kindergarten”

Something about the way she said it rubbed me the wrong way; like I’ve just been on an extended vacation for the past seven years because, you know, staying home and running a household and managing the lives of three other people is SO! EASY! and the isolation is REALLY! FUN! and being looked at by the rest of the world as “just a mom” is GREAT! for my ego.

Bearing in mind that this is coming from a woman who hasn’t worked outside the home a day in her life since getting married eleventy hundred years ago made it almost laughable.

But I bit my tongue and instead opted to remind her —yet again— that I DO work, both as a mother and as a designer/writer/editor of interwebby things upon which I cannot elaborate lest she find out I have this whole other life. And that I blogged about her.

And she replies “Well, I don’t know what you do on your computer,” as if this is the first she’s ever heard of it.


And then my daughter, little spitfire that she is, chimes in “Mommy works on the computer and she makes money, too”


Must high five daughter later for her awesomely awesome awesomeness.

Instant Karma

Do you believe in karma? I do. But until tonight I’m not sure I would have said I believe in INSTANT karma.

See, I have this neighbor with a pool and this morning as I was sitting out on the back porch enjoying some coffee and reading a magazine while I had the whole, peaceful house to myself, I started to notice a rather loud, grinding noise coming this neighbor’s pool pump.

I knew it would only get worse because Neighbor Guy’s pool pump has done this before. It grinded and screeched for 18 hours a day, getting louder with each excruciating day until it finally broke. Only then did I get my back porch and my solitude back.

So anyway, by this evening the noise was so loud the huz and I could barely speak to each other out there and forget about relaxing and conversing like we normally do. It was torture.

So I go over to Neighbor Guy’s house (he’s about 55 and really crotchety) and ask very, very nicely if he would consider turning his pool pump off for a couple hours.

In a very annoyed tone, he informs me that the timer goes off at 10:30pm (it’s currently 7pm) and he KNOWS it’s malfunctioning and that he will be fixing it on Saturday.

So I say, while mentally calculating that it will be over three hours until the unholy racket subsides, “I was just hoping you could turn it off for a little while. I’ve been listening to it all day and it’s very loud, so much so that I can now hear it in the house.

And he says in his typical rude, cranky old bastard tone “Yeah, well I have to look at your trash can sitting out front all week.”

And I say “Yes, I know. But the new ones (we just got these new GIANT blue trash cans provided by the city to work with the new fancy schmancy automated trucks) are so wide, we can’t get it between the cars to put it away.”

(I’d like to note that we have a special paved area next to the street where we put the trash can and it’s obscured by this tree-bush thing. It’s very unobtrusive. He puts his can right IN the street. Idiot)

And he says “Yeah, well you should just move your cars.” And you should just BITE ME!

Now I’m getting pissed but I don’t want to fight with someone I have to live next door to so I DON’T say:

“Yeah, and we have to watch you mow your lawn while your rather unsightly ass is wearing a fricken speedo”


“Yeah, and we have to listen to you blare Rush Limbaugh from your backyard every weekend while you nude sunbathe”


“Yeah, but I have to listen to you gush about George Bush every time I get stuck talking to you and I bet it was YOU that set my John Kerry sign on fire a few years ago, you miserable asshat.”

I could go on and on but you get the point.

So all I say is “I’ll be sure to mention that to my husband” while gritting my teeth and promising myself that we will NEVER bring Monster Can up to the house EVER again.

When I return home, I relate the exchange to my husband and he gets pissed, too.

You should know that we are AWESOME neighbors. We are quiet, considerate, helpful and always friendly and had that butthead ever NICELY asked me to consider bringing the Monster Can up to the house, or anything else within reason, I would have begrudgingly tried to honor his request. Instead he uses it against me. Jerk.

I tell my husband to let it go because I don’t want to have a feud with Neighbor Guy and his Ukrainian mail-order bride (Seriously, the word on the street is he ordered her over the internet) or his teenage mail-order stepson that he works like an indentured servant. It’s just not worth it.

So we get the kids ready for bed and tuck them in and then while I’m out on the porch feeding the cat and musing over how we’re going to survive until 10:30pm, let alone Saturday, the pool pump starts making a new noise. A hideous scraping, clunking, winding down, death knell noise. And then it was very quiet.

Official time of death? 8:30pm

God. I LOVE instant karma!

I Want Something Better

(I’m going to try to keep this from getting too lengthy but if you’re a regular here, you probably know that’s near impossible for me so I’ll just apologize in advance for any long-windedness.)

The topic at hand today is Bratz dolls. Well, no. It really isn’t Bratz dolls so much. It’s more about how our society has become so numb to the constant sexualization of girls that it’s hard for some to even recognize it anymore. And it’s about one small thing we can do to stem the proverbial tide.

So what am I carrying on about now? Well, for starters, I was recently vindicated by the American Psychological Association who ALSO sees a problem with society projecting sexuality onto younger and younger girls. While many insist that it’s all in good fun and that people like me are perverts for thinking otherwise, all I can say is “Ha! My instincts were spot on!” Padded bras for six year olds and toddler dolls in thongs and dolls dressed like hookers being marketed to little girls are NOT harmless.

See, the thing is, Bratz dolls are not going to make your daughters become prostitutes. But they are one very visible component of a culture of which the resultant cumulative effect is a loud and clear message that a girl’s worth lies with her sexuality. The dolls, simply put, are just a small part of something much larger; a general but very perceptible shift in how women are regarded in the world at large and it’s starting with our preschool age daughters.

So what do I want? I want something better. I want to change the world from place where a young girl’s worth is in her willingness to shed her clothes or trade basic human dignity for a few minutes of fleeting fame or infamy; a culture where girls don’t seem to mind trading themselves for things that are worthless.

I’m not talking about adults here. Adults can make as many stupid decisions on how to live their lives as they want. I’m talking about children and self-worth and I just can’t figure out where the disconnect is. I can’t find that corner we turned where respecting yourself stopped being as important as flashing for a free Girls Gone Wild hat, or giving a blowjob because it’s just oral sex and it makes you popular; or being “hot” completely displaced being accomplished or intelligent.

When did self-respect become so uncool? I’m not even sure I can effectively articulate what I mean to say here but if one single person considers leaving a comment lecturing me about how I can’t stop progress or the world is the way it is and I should just “educate” my child to be better or whatever, don’t bother. I refuse to accept that.

Get the whole story »

Just What Your First Grader Needs… A Padded Bra

Get your barf bags ready, people. The braintrust that brought the world Bratz dollz are at it again…

Bratz Twin Babyz Lingerie Dollz

Phoebe “Sugar” is described as “sweet and mild” and dressed in a fluffy pink jacket with pink and black underwear, while Roxxi “Spice” is described at ‘wild and spicy” and has an open fake leather jacket and skimpy red and black lingerie. Both dolls have baby milk bottles hanging off chains strapped to their legs.

Click to enlarge

I’m not sure if these things are being sold in the US or not but in Australia, sales are expected to reach one million this year. WTF???

But WAIT! Grab another barf bag. It gets worse…

Target stores in Australia are also selling Bratz and Barbie padded bras for little girls starting at size 6 and if you look at it in the photo below, the first two sets on the left and in the middle are very mature looking. In fact, it’s not unlike lingerie that I own. But it’s for little kids which is just gross.

The padded Bratz “bralettes” were among more than 30 different junior bra styles starting at size six on sale at a city Target store visited by the Herald Sun yesterday.The Australian Family Association warned parents against sexualising their children. “We have a growing problem with pedophilia and people viewing children as sex objects,” spokeswoman Angela Conway said. ~The Herald Sun


Click the image to enlarge

The sets in the middle and to the left are very similar to lingerie that I own except that they’re for little kids. It’s disturbing…

The spokeswoman for Funtastic, distributor of Bratz dolls said “The idea of the padding is for girls to be discreet as they develop.”

I can’t believe any self-respecting woman would propagate such a line of BS.

Target also stood by the underwear line. It provided “fashionable items that give girls modesty and style as they go through development changes”, a spokeswoman said.

Does anyone actually believe that load of crap?

The Australian Family Association is right to warn parents against sexualizing their children. I mean honestly, who would buy any of this stuff for their kids? Flame me if you must but I’m going to be uncharacteristically judgmental for a moment…

The people that buy and thus create a market for this kind of stuff are incompetent morons.

DO YOU HEAR ME? If you are buying this stuff for your kids, you really are an idiot. Grow up and BE A PARENT.

There is simply NO EXCUSE. It’s not cute. It’s not funny. Children are children. They are NOT little adults and they should NOT be sexy (unless, of course, you are in favor of child sexualization, in which case, I hope you’re reading this from jail.)

If you are as incensed as I am (and you should be) contact Target Australia and let them know your objections to padded bras for little girls.

You are not alone. Your voice matters. Make it heard.

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