Miley Has Lost Her Mind

Only a face her mother could love.  Maybe.
Only a face a mother could love.

I know every person known to man is talking about this.  But I just can’t resist adding in my two cents.  The Kid grew up with Miley.  I completely approved of Hannah Montana.  She was innocent and clean.  What the hell happened to her?

I know she grew up.  She can’t be Hannah forever.  But come on girl.  Have some damn respect.  I did not watch the VMA’s. I do not tend to watch awards shows because it’s tiring watching celebrities pat themselves on the back.  Where’s my award?  Well, except the Oscars occasionally, and even that’s starting to get on my nerves.

The Kid showed me the clip of her at the VMA’s on Youtube.  I literally threw up in my mouth.  First of all, what’s with her tongue?  Why does she keep sticking it out in that unattractive way?  I think someone needs to tell her that that is not sexy.  Gene Simmons could get away with it in his KISS days.  Not Miley Cyrus.  Her mamma needs to rinse that tongue with a bar of soap.

I didn’t understand the bear thing.  Were those bears?  Whatever they were, that was weird.  She took a child’s toy and turned it into a sexual object.  Yuck.  I will never be able to look at a teddy bear the same again.  Maybe someone can explain their purpose if I am missing the point.

The girl was practically having sex on the stage.  Her and whatever his name is…Alan Thicke?  Oh wait, that’s his dad, right?  Geez, I suddenly feel old.  They really needed to get a room.  I mean come on, there is a time and place for that behavior.  I don’t really care if it was an act or not.  And believe me, I’m really not a prude.

When Madonna pulled stunts like that to reinvent herself and boost her career, it worked for her.  But Miley?  I will be pretty damn surprised if she has a career in 10 years.  I do have to give her kudos though.  Because I just realized as I’m finishing up here, that she wanted to stir up some controversy.  She wanted the attention.  She’s in her multi-million dollar mansion right now laughing it up.  Because she got what she wanted.  Whether it’s positive or negative, it’s attention nonetheless.  I wonder what dear old dad is thinking?  A proud moment for him?  Probably not.  I just wish she’d keep her clothes on and stop humping things.  And please for the love of God, keep that damn tongue in your mouth before it gets stuck like that.

A Brush With Greatness

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Have you ever had a brush with greatness?  I have.  But my story will have to wait.  Today I am going to tell you about The Kid’s brush with greatness.  Except she was completely unaware of it.  Why?  Because it wasn’t Katy Perry or Joe Jonas.

It was about 4 or 5 years ago and we were kayaking with good friends.  We were in a beautiful place and enjoying the beautiful weather.  It was peaceful.  Up until our daughter lost control of her boat.  And was heading straight into another boat.

I’ve seen the man in this kayak before. He looked familiar, with his baby face and trademark cap.  Wait.  That guy looks like…could it be…Opie? Richie Cunningham?  Yes.  The Kid literally rammed  head-on into no other than Ron Howard himself.  Of course, it wasn’t done gracefully.  Oar flailing, pigtails bobbing and lungs screaming.  No, not embarrassing at all.

Between giggles she managed to get out an apology.  At least she used her manners.  Mr. Howard could not have been nicer.  He very gently told her that it was okay and that she was doing a good job.  The rest of us?  We all sat with mouths gaping.  In total disbelief that Ron Howard and his wife were out on a Saturday afternoon kayaking in our local stream.  Well, his local stream too, it turns out.

People around us were whispering about the famous man in the cap.  Of course, these people were middle age.  Like us.  They all grew up with Richie and Opie.  Anyone there at that moment under the age of 35 had no idea who he was.  It was like our own little secret.

I remember thinking suddenly how proud I was of our kid.  She can’t paddle a kayak, but she sure knows how to strum up some excitement.  It was the topic of conversation for weeks.  It still comes up from time to time.  Hmmm, I suddenly realize I should probably get something else to talk about.  Or have The Kid run into someone new.

Manufactured Reality

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A friend shared this picture on Facebook a couple of weeks ago.  These fine ladies were spotted in a Swedish retail establishment.  There was a bit of an outrage over them.  It seems that they “condone obesity.”  I have something to say about that.

First, kudos to this store.  America should follow suit.  Second, please define “obese” because I don’t understand.  They look pretty damn normal to me.  In fact,  I think they are hot.  They are curvy, voluptuous and sexy.  They look like you and me.  Not some undernourished, unrealistic waif.

I have a serious problem with the mannequins stores use today.  Because these “models” are probably about a size 0.  A size 0 mannequin is on display in a store that I shop in.  A store that is meant for women.  Most women I know are not a size 0.  These plastic bimbos get us in the door because we want what they are wearing.  So, we go on a quest to find the item in our size, try it on, and inevitably are disappointed because it doesn’t fit us like it fits the chick in the window, who by the way, has her clothing held on by a big-ass binder clip.  There is something wrong with that.  And it’s called false advertising.

I’m guessing that if the media, magazines, STORES, stopped portraying women and girls like this:

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my arm is bigger than this chick’s thigh.

…the percentage of eating disorders would drop.  It’s just a guess.  Because I am no expert.  I have fallen under the spell of advertisers. Until the realistic part of my brain makes me come to my senses.  But I worry about the young girls of our society.  They have to look at this same crap.  And feel the same way.  Except it’s way worse for them because they don’t have the ability to always think sensibly and are swayed by false advertising more than we are.

I don’t know about you, but I want my teenage daughter to feel good about herself.  To have high self esteem.  I don’t want her feeling badly about herself because some plastic bitch said she was fat.  It just makes our jobs as parents more difficult.  And can possibly undo years of hard work we put into our children.

So, shame on you retail stores, magazines, the media.  And bring on those size 12 mannequins. They are more than welcome here!

 

Pee & Tweet

Tweetpee: a wet idea?

I know you are probably sick of me talking about pee.  But this product intrigued me so much that I just had to share.  So, here’s one more pee story (well, until the next opportunity arises and we all know that could be at any time).

While I was sitting in a doctor’s waiting room the other day, a commercial came on the television.  Actually the news was on and the news aired it.  You can currently find this product in Brazil.  But I’m afraid it may be coming to a Walmart near you sooner than you wish.

It’s called Huggies TweetPee.  Somehow this little birdie is part of an “app.”  You know, for your smart phone?  At first glance, it seems kind of weird.  At second glance, it seems even weirder.

Here’s the lowdown: This little bird attaches to your baby’s diaper, in the general area of where urine comes out.  Upon sensing the “wet”, the bird does what it does best — tweets.  No, it doesn’t actually tweet, like “chirp chirp.”  It tweets.  To your Twitter account.  Let me repeat that in case you don’t understand:  The plastic little birdie who is attached to your child’s groin, sends you a message to your twitter account to let you know that you better stop watching General Hospital,  get your ass up off the couch, and change your baby’s diaper.  Pronto.  Or what?  I suppose the pee police will come.

I am feeling a mix of emotions here.  A little bit of jealous with a whole lot of dismay.  The jealous comes from the fact that I had to check my baby’s diaper the old fashioned way.  You know… sniffing, feeling, looking.  What a waste of time.  I feel deprived.

The dismay comes from the fact that someone or somepeople actually spent time and money to come up with this gadget.  Okay, so sure.  We have all been guilty of sometimes letting our babies sit in a wet diaper for a a little longer than we should.  Did it kill them?  No.  But we can still be too lazy to get up and change them.  The difference is that now we will know that the diaper is wet therefore adding more guilt to our already Guilty Mother Conscience.  Well played Huggies.  Well played.

Oh and hey you.  Go change your baby’s diaper.  How do I know?  A little birdie told me.

Grocery Stores and Headlines

Sometimes I forget my mind and go to Stop & Shop.  I live halfway between there and Shop Rite so it just usually depends on my mood.  Shop Rite always has a mob of people.  It was Saturday morning, so I figured Stop & Shop was the better idea.

I forget that the freaking store has 10 thousand registers with only 2 cashiers.  I can’t seem to grasp why they are so understaffed.  So, the best option for my 12 items was the “do it yourself” aisle.  Always a bad mistake.  My options were slight.  It was either that or one of the 2 open registers with lines running half way down the store aisles.

There was one person in front of me.  She thought it would be a good idea to separate her groceries into 3 piles and ring them up all separately.  And with coupons for each pile.  I’m sure she could have thought of a better way to do this.  So my wait was a bit longer than I anticipated.  While I was waiting, I read up on the front pages of everything from The National Enquirer to People.  Here is what I found out:

  • That Khloe Kardashian’s real dad doesn’t want anything to do with her.  That’s okay, she still has Bruce.  Or did he and Kris split up?
  • Tori Spelling and her husband are headed for divorce and it’s going to be ugly.  I know, I’m surprised too.
  • The Virgin Bachelor and his fiancé are waiting for their wedding night.  Gee, that ought to be a quick one.
  • My favorite was this.  No, really:

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Ok, so half her ta-ta’s are showing, but a huge thank you to Sports Illustrated for not featuring a scrawny model who doesn’t weigh more than 2 strands of my hair soaking wet.  I’m sorry, but they are the worst role models possible for our teenage daughters.

Now back to grocery stores.  I apologize to you, Shop Rite for always doubting you.  Yes, you may always be mobbed, but by golly, you’ve got that place staffed and running like a well oiled machine.  I will be shredding my S&S card today….after this next sale.

Droopy Drawers (not to be confused with Droopy the Dog)

I have been wanting to vent about this subject for a while now, waiting for the opportunity to present itself.  Well, the opportunity has come in the form of one Justin Bieber and his skivvies.  He honored us with the presence of his Fruit Of The Loom in this week’s “People” magazine:

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Exhibit A
Exhibit B
Exhibit B

If you look at “Exhibit A” you will notice he is practically naked.  I can’t comprehend why he even bothered.  In “Exhibit B” it just looks like his pants are loaded up.  Although I’m sure his mother will say he has been potty trained for at least 16 years.

You cannot possibly tell me that this doesn’t annoy him just a tad.  I’ll tell you when I wear my low-rise jeans (I know, low-rise+muffin top+middle age=NO — I’m sorry, I have no excuse), I am driven to drink because I am continuously yanking those dang things up.  Almost to the point where my fingers bleed.

And it’s just not celebrities.  I see it all the time, everywhere.  Please do us all a favor.  Keep your ass inside your pants or inside the privacy of your own home.  I really don’t need to look at it.  Once I saw a boy whose pants were so low, it was indecent.  I almost called the police.  Seriously.

Now, all you young girls out there, you cannot possibly tell me that this look is hot.  I know I’m mid-fortysomething and you probably could really care less about my opinion but I was a teenage girl once.  And I can promise you that look would have completely sent me running to the nearest convent if that was my only choice.

The first time I saw it, I was stunned.  I sat staring trying to figure it out.  It’s as if they are defying gravity or something.  But then I see that they tighten their belt right below their boot-ay.  Ouch.  Aren’t there other unmentionables right around that frontal area?  Geez, I sure hope they don’t want any babies one day because they’ll probably kill all their swimmers by means of strangulation or asphyxiation.

I can see the future headline now:  “The human race is in danger of becoming extinct because of over zealous boys and their belts.”  Joy.

The Death of a Habit?

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I was on Facebook today and I saw that a friend posted this article about the dangers of drinking. Here is the headline:

Even Moderate Drinking Linked to Increased Cancer Risk

Oh dear God.  If this is true, then I am a dead woman.  Basically, the article talks some shit about how even having a glass of wine a day can increase your risk of getting cancer by, well, a lot.

I am one of those people who has a glass of wine every night.  Ok, maybe not EVERY night.  Let’s say the average month consists of 30 days.  I drink wine about 28 days a month.  And about 22 of those days I have more than just one glass.  The odds are not in my favor.

So here I was using the excuse to drink red wine because it was really good for your heart and since I have high cholesterol I thought it was great because I would just have a glass of wine with my steak (total run-on sentence — sorry).  Except now the cancer risk outweighs the heart healthy part.

It’s funny because my mom has been telling me for years about this cancer/alcohol link.  I pretty much just roll my eyes and open a bottle of my favorite Cabernet.  You have to understand something about my mom.  She reads everything and watches CNN like it’s the only show on TV. So, every “new” development that comes up, which is pretty much every day, I’m sure to know about it.  The most ridiculous thing like breathing can cause lung cancer.  Ok, I’m kidding.  But shit, everything gives us cancer these days.

If I listened to everything my mom told me, here are the things I would have to give up:

  • Cooked meat  – Have you ever had an uncooked hamburger?  Yum.  Watch out for those tape worms though.
  • Sun  – An oldie but a goodie.  Slather on that lotion.  Or be pale and cold.  Your choice.
  • Mouthwash – In lieu of the recent study, this one should be a no brainer.
  • Vitamins  – Yup.  This is a new one.  Those antioxidants are serious bad boys.
  • Body lotion – Yes, even body lotion.  It can cause breast cancer believe it or not.  So, do we slather on lotion to avoid skin cancer, or go out in the sun without it to avoid breast cancer?
  • Alcoholic beverages – I have nothing to say except it just sucks.

So anyway, now that I’ve actually seen it in words, I’m suddenly freaked out.  Like, really freaked out.  I even went out to lunch with the family today and didn’t order a glass of wine.  That’s unheard of.  For some reason, I think any time I sit in a restaurant there is this rule that I have to drink wine.  So, I ordered water and I didn’t actually die.

Ok, so I can give up body lotion and mouthwash.  But wine?  There are no words.  I think I’m in mourning.  I’ll start my mourning on Monday, with my New Year’s Resolutions.