Home > Archives for February, 2014
Monthly Archives: February 2014
Even though (in my opinion / legal disclaimer) Dr. Laura has behaved as a bigoted hypocrite, occasionally she preaches truth. If you’ve never listened to Dr. Laura, she’s an ultraconservative radio talk show host with a harshsauce advice delivery system. Ask your Mom. She’ll explain.
I admit it. I agree with Dr. Laura regarding the following three points:
1) Don’t marry a weak man.
Weak men = mama’s boys. Weak men = childishly obsess over internet porn. Weak men = lie. Nearly every show, Dr. Laura’s callers illustrate how weak men are the source of innumerable problems. Weak men don’t get strong.
2) Don’t marry an addict.
Addicts only care about their addiction.
3) Stay home with your kid(s) until they go to school.
Controversial, right? Can we agree that 0-5 years old are hugely formative years for a human being? Can we agree that children are at their most vulnerable to predators before they can speak or physically defend themselves? I am not a parent, but if I were and could possibly afford it, I would commit five years to my child to nurture and protect the kid during this crucial developmental period. Obviously, such a scenario is not financially feasible for every family. Regardless of income, no one is ever going to love and protect my kid like I would with such unwavering and priceless devotion.
“How does Mommy look?”
Last night, I was invited to da club to enjoy the full VIP bottle service experience. Rolling six deep with a gold digger, a missed-connection, Pippi Longstocking, a purse watcher, a narcoleptic, and an adderall-popping cunt, we were stamped, wristbanded, and escorted past the velvet ropes to the special elevator that took us upstairs where we could gaze down upon the sweaty rolling stink writhing below. This elitist bullshit is so not my scene. Other than having a place to sit, I really don’t get bottle service. Open carafes of juice are a bad idea around drunk people. Is there an expectation that the six of us finish this bottle of vodka? I just drank the bottled water because everything else appeared so unsanitary. The best part of the whole evening was watching the kiddos roll their faces off down below. I saw a titty come out, and it made my night. Can we talk about the go-go dancers? Why do they all still dance like they are juggling a spaceball? 90’s nostalgia? Give me something new girls. Give me something more interesting than your lower butt cleavage. From my vantage point, with rare exception the dudes can’t dance. The repetitive pounding house beats of the well-known DJ got super fucking old super fucking quick. Really with the glow sticks? The main redeeming factor was when the group of handsome gentlemen at the table next to us mistook me as 10 years younger. I’m sure it was clubby darkness and context, but just let me savor the sad little moment, okay? Thanks.