September 2009 Archives

Just returned from a quick n' dirty trip back to my hometown of Boston to finally meet my girl Candle's gorge baby boy and check in with my old cronies at the WBCN Reunion at the Paradise in Boston. I felt honored to be included, not just because my bud Gina was part of the team that put this shizz together, but because the place wasn't exactly crawling with former interns - just a handful of us who'd been there for a bunch of years and somehow wound up on the payroll. 

Mind you, I did my time there exactly half my life ago and plenty much has transpired over the last twenty years. When I worked there, my admired superiors were closing in on my current age. You do the math. 

I was too busy gabbing to do much snapping, but the marquee summed it up: Private Party (How does it feel to want?)

And yes, I was that asshole who walked around flashing pix of my kids on my BBerry. So incredibly trite, I know. But what kind of bitch would I be if I didn't? They're my two greatest accomplishments, so long as they see fit to refit my dentures now and again. Of course, there were the few that knew me back then who needed a second to wrap their minds around the fact that a former stoner-go-lightly like me was actually responsible for the feeding and watering of two cute living, breathing creatures. I forgave this, because I occasionally need a few seconds to reabsorb that juicy little factoid myself.

Unless you're residing at the bottom of the East River, you're fully schooled on the whole Kanye jumping on stage and raping Taylor Swift's winning moment by now. 

This ultimate act of high-douchery catapults him beyond the realm of douche into DINK territory. Because we all know a teeny weeny peenie is far worse than a clean vadge.

Khloe Kardashian - My sweet Armo sister, I kinda dig your outspoken style. You do seem to be the most conscious of the Kardashian family at any given time. And your man is a cutie pie.

But to marry a dude after a month of dating is quite the fi-douchiary maneuver. Haskadzah. 

Now, grab a seat because this douchetastic nugget will cause your cooch to close and bacteria-laced vinegar and water to flow from your ears. Check out just how much these ne'er-do-nothings cash in per episode (courtesy of DListed) while we squirrels scrounge for a nut:

Lauren Conrad - $125,000

Kristen Cavalleri - $90,000

Heidi Montag - $100,000 and a record contract!

Audrina Partridge - $100,000

and our own Summer's Eve special Spencer Pratt - rakes in $65,000 per episode. Now if you'll excuse me, I must gargle bile.

Hey all you Joe six-packs out there! Guess what? I've got a new book comin' out for ya' that'll tell ya' how it feels to go rogue. And it's called "Goin' Rogue: An American Life!" 

My editor said that putting a "g" at the end of "going" would make more of those smarty-pants liberals buy it, but I told her all those Joe six-packs out there don't say, goin"gh" they say "goin'." 

Besides it's more rogue if you do it different. But who cares, right? It's a book. I wrote a book. And I did it in four months, triple-spaced. Take that you innelectuals. So buy it, will ya?  I tell 'ya it'll split the Massengils from the Summer's Eves. 

Don't let your daughter get all douchey just because her friends are. If she's acting all "mean girl," check out my latest feature for MomLogic for the expert take on how to check her right quick. 

Hey Y'all!

My issue with back-to-school is that with so many back-to-school issues clogging my in/mail/fun box these days, I feel brain-raped on the subject.  Not that my brain isn't prone to use and abuse. Clearly, I'm not the only parent simultaneously exhilarated and bewildered by the noise-free dead spot in my immediate perimeter. So there's just no need to go there.

I'm also a New Yorker with the heart and soul of a Miami retiree. Give me a 85 degree day, a pool and a shuffleboard court and I'm in Valhalla. So for me, this time is bittersweet. As thrilled as I am to see my big kid resume his intellectual and social stimulation, I'm preternaturally mourning the stench of pit stains and free feet. To clear the proverbial decks, I hereby decree this arena free of further mention of back-to anything. 

Note I didn't say anything about being on one's back. 

I first learned of this website from my peeps over at MomLogic, who share my penchant for what's silly and sillier. 

This is a merciless move also known as The Horse Blanket: "The woman wears the Snuggie on her front and covers her partner with the bottom. Perfect for showing off your moves and when you can't stand to look your partner in the eye." 

I just call it the smotherfucker.

Have your eyelashes been crippled with "hypotricosis?"  Tired of random strangers whispering "chrome balls" behind your back?

Thanks to Latisse, the new Brooke Shields-endorsed Miracle-Gro for eyelashes, you shall suffer no more. Brave the risk of eye pruritus (burning and itching), iris discoloration, conjunctival hyperemia (contagious eye-goo) and skin hyperpigmentation and you are SET.

Since when did lack of eyelash hair become an urgent matter that requires medical attention? 

Tsk, tsk, tsk. That pesky Brooke. Granted, she was born to shill, but there's a threshold that surpasses good taste. Cars, Tupperware, toothpaste, now this Latisse shit.  I feel like I'm lurking over her midlife crisis, watching her bank account fatten, but her integrity as an actress swirl the bowl. 

Whatever it takes, Sweetheart. Hey - cut me a six figure check and watch me flash you my mighty morphin mama-tatas with a wink and a big fat smile. I'll even send you a complimentary barf bowl. Just include a self-addressed stamped envelope.

And now for the educational portion of our broadcast...Dr. Phil is moonlighting! Whatever it takes in this recession...

Open box. Remove applicator. Damn, this is as hard as Jon Gosselin's peen for Ed Hardy. 

I love how 1:42 of this is absorbed with this idiot trying to open the fucking box. Apparently, she could give two shits about flashing her year-old mani on camera. And judging by my post-viewing vertigo, the camera man did multiple shots of this shit before pressing "record."

Best of all is the script. "Most people have two eyes."  I'm supposed to put my trust in a product developed by the fucking genius who crafted this compelling commentary?

And what does this say about their erstwhile spokesperson, Brooke?

I'll leave you to ponder that for now... it's a real chin-stroker.

Until next time...

Your ever faithful, 

Mad Mom

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