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  • Here You go Sweetie… Eat this Tapeworm for Your Fat Ass

    Hi. The world sucks. Everyone is a total asshole. We might as well just flush our heads down the toilet because that is where society is headed.

    I recently read a delightful article about a mother who covertly fed her daughter tapeworm eggs so she would lose weight before a beauty pageant. When this girl went to the hospital complaining of cramps, the doctors did an ultra-sound thinking she was maybe pregnant, only to discover her belly was full of worms.The teen was administered medicine to flush out the parasites and await the exciting reality of having worms exit her asshole.

    A rehash: a mother didn’t think her daughter was skinny enough, wanted her to win a stupid contest about beauty, and made the decision to risk her child’s life (giving her the life experience of SHITTING LIVE WORMS UP TO 30 FEET IN LENGTH). Can you please close your eyes and imagine a LIVE WORM slithering out your ass, knowing it had been living INSIDE OF YOU??!!

    Of all the things I would not want coming out of my ass, a 30 foot live worm is at the TOP of my list. A squash would be a close second because of the girth, but at least it wouldn’t be moving around. In fact, I would take almost any inanimate object coming out of my ass – including a lamppost – over something that alive. It’s just wrong.

    Now that we’ve gotten over the whole worms coming out the ass part… wait hold on… wretch, gag, barf… okay I am better… there are some GLARING issues about parenting, this mother’s priorities, and how beauty is a defining attribute for girls. Of course I could say the classic rationalization that my mind gravitates towards, like the societal conditioning of women as sex objects, the societal pressure of female attractiveness, and the inaccessibility and absurdity of modern beauty standards. Of course I agree with all these points and believe we’ve been corrupted by oppressive definitions of gender. Yet this is also a chicken and egg scenario. Women often care obsessively about our physical appearance because culture dictates this and our culture is obsessively focused on female beauty because women are obsessed with it.

    We can hate the media for always writing about Kim Kardashian’s body, but every time I see an article about Kim Kardashian’s body I always look at it. I have been socialized to care and I should be furious about the constant objectification of women but I am also totally capable of rejecting this fucked up brainwashing.

    I remember being a kid in history class learning about slavery, the holocaust, Jim Crow, apartheid, and asking the teachers “I don’t get it. How did people allow that?? How could they not know that was wrong?” The prevailing justification I was given, “That was the culture of the time. Those people were reacting to the zeitgeist, so you can’t really blame them for participating in the perceived norm.” To which I would respond “What the dick!” and be sent out of the room.

    My reaction was “No way would I have gone along with that bullshit! I don’t care what kind of culture raised me. I would KNOW slavery was wrong. I would have NEVER let Jewish people be taken to concentration camps. There is NO WAY I would have drank water from some stupid whites only fountain. I would have been different. I would have NEVER let that happen!!”

    The same thinking applies here. Despite conditioning, there were still people who knew enslaving humans/segregation/genocide was wrong and actively fought against it. We women can also be like “fuck this beauty standard shit in the ass.” We don’t have to participate or buy billions of dollars of beauty products every year. We don’t have to hate our bodies or feel insecure that our thighs touch. We don’t have to give a shit about shit. Even though I know it is hard to reject all the fucked up messaging, it was also hard for people to start the Underground Railroad or hide Jews in their attics – but they still did it!

    Let’s do this. Let’s do it for ourselves, our mothers, our sisters and our daughters. Lets keep our toilets tapeworm free

    worms-blog-(i)

    August 26, 2014 • Current Events, Health, Mommyhood, Musings, Parenting, Women's Business • Views: 6868

  • The Preppy White Hiker

    Walking is like cocaine. Seriously it is. It releases the same endorphins, and stimulates the same of the brain that makes you want to talk.  Walking while talking makes you more open, and facilitates dialogue. If you are ever in an intense argument with someone, go for a walk together and immediately the energy will change.

    When you hike a mountain with someone, not only are you high as fuck from the altitude, but also the walking. Of course on your way up it is hard to communicate because you are trying to breathe while also wondering why you went hiking in the first place, and if you even like hiking at all.  Yet after you bask in the accomplishment of making it to the top, the hike down is prime opportunity for some epic conversations.

    My friend Sasha recently came to visit me, and we went on adventure hiking up a mountain. On our way down, we did what any normal person would do – start talking about sex. For the majority of the hike we were the only ones on the trail, so by this point all our inhibitions melted away as we got intimate – in the discussion… not with each other you pervert.

    We were going on and on about past experiences, fantasies, likes, dislikes – totally oblivious to the world around us.  Now, the way were were traversing down the mountain was in the following positioning. I was in front, while Sasha was behind – revealing herself as I was taking it all in.  Wait… stop begin so gross. I meant she was talking and I was listening.

    Just as Sasha was exposing one of the most personal private parts… of her story you sicko… I saw a man coming towards us.

    He was the quintessential white, New England hiker. I am pretty sure he is the type of dude who chops wood to warm his cabin at night, reads Thoreau with a warm glass of whisky on a whicker chair, and the only time he has ever talked about his feelings is when he said “see you later” to his dad on his death bead. This was not a man who seemed to be in touch with his emotions, nor would he ever share any personal details about his life beyond what brand of wool socks keeps you most warm once wet with morning dew.  He was wearing his hiking boots, shorts, plaid shirt, a back pack with water, and sun hat.  He was that guy.

    We made eye contact through the trees, and I wanted to communicate to Sasha that this man was coming – but I didn’t know how…  I just kept walking forward and letting her talk, sort of thinking everything was going to be okay because she must have seen him too right?  The Preppy Hiker kept walking towards us, and could hear everything that was coming out of Sasha’s hole…. in her face you horny toad!

    Sasha: Every time I have been in a situation where people are having sex right in front of me I get super turned on. I just really get off on watching other people fuck.

    Right as Sasha uttered that last word – she looked up and saw the hiker.

    White New England Hiker: Uhhhhh… Don’t mind me….

    That was pretty much the best moment of all of our lives.

    hiker-story-(i)

  • Vanity and Beauty In The One Eyed Beholder

    We are living in an age of vanity. There are too many technological gadgets to document ourselves, and too many outlets to broadcast our glory. I mean, is there any point in looking cute if someone doesn’t capture your image for a new profile pic?

    I don’t think that technology is making us vain as much as it allows this pre-existing condition we often fall victim too. The difference is the ease to which we can connect to our vanity, and the instant gratification of people encouraging it with likes, thumbs up, and comments. It is almost impossible not to be somewhat seduced by it all.  When you are looking your best you kind of want the world to notice – or at least acknowledge a perfect hair day.

    Not that there is anything wrong with wanting to look good. Physicality does play a role in attracting people to you. If you are super smelly, look disheveled, and have plaque on your teeth coated in rotting meat residue – no one is going to want to spark up a conversation. We of course want to be somewhat presentable to instigate relationships. The problem is that if you are going to excessively care when people think you are hot, you are also going to care when they think your not. I am not just talking about having an off day wearing cargo shorts and Tevas.

    I sometimes worry about The Munch and the challenges of raising a daughter in a culture obsessed with female beauty.  Of course, The Munch isn’t exactly helping the situation with her mania towards fashion, and penchant towards all things ultra fancy and princess like. I really can’t tell where the Disney seduction ends and the awareness of prettiness begins…

    Soooooo… The Munch has a wandering eye – which although is exciting to have that kind of spirit in an organ, it is still something I have to address. I have been taking her to get cranial sacral work for about a year to try to avoid surgery. It has helped, but her eye is still like a deadbeat dad who keeps trying to take off when things get difficult. The next option is to have her wear a patch on the strong eye so she is forced to use the weaker one. To be honest I have been not only been dreading, but also avoiding this option. The Munch is SOOOOO particular about what she wears, I didn’t know if it was going to become this major battle of the wills. I can’t even get her to wear socks she doesn’t like – let alone a fucking eye patch on her face.

    I found the coolest, sparkliest, shiniest eye patches on the market – The Munch would for sure scoff at a flesh colored Band-Aid with zero pizzazz. Luckily there were some options that had a little swagger to them. I was nervous about how it would be received so I brought Munch to the chiropractor who has been helping her, and we put it on her ceremoniously.

    She actually took it pretty well. The only thing she complains about so far is his her eye getting hot and sweaty.  She doesn’t seem evenly slightly concerned about looking like a princess pirate.

    The Munch really reminded me that you don’t have to let physical “imperfections” limit your confidence, especially when you have style.

    eye-patch-blog-(i)

    July 14, 2014 • 1st time for everything, Musings • Views: 18798

  • Fox News Feminism Is So Sweet

    Fox news recently did a segment about “how to keep your husband happy” where they interviewed the lovely “Princeton Mom”- author of the book Marry Smart. It was really cute. They talked about how women have become uppity princesses who need to shut their damn mouths and make their man a drink so he can be content while she cooks him dinner. So sweet!

    The Princeton Mom blames feminism for the degradation of how men are treated in marriages, and her advice is that women hold onto their husbands with their little pussy paws so he doesn’t leave you a lonely cat-woman spinster old maiden. She doesn’t say you have to wait on him hand and foot, but it’s probably a good idea if you do. If the Princeton Mom is going to crown herself the queen of knowing what makes men happy, then how would she advise gay couples? Shouldn’t relationship counsel ultimately be in the universal language of love? If the rational can’t be applied to all dynamics how is it even legitimate? If you are both husbands or wives then who is making who the damn drink?

    Initially I felt a lot of rage towards this Princeton Mom and the Fox News pundits egging her on, because the logic was so condescending and seemingly backwards. Yet there was an underlying message she was espousing that was reasonable – it was about kindness. Be caring towards the person you live with, parent with, and have committed yourself to. Yes! I agree with that. That is a human quality all people should strive towards because that is a decent way to behave – not because you are trying to make someone else happy.

    In fact, the expectation to make your husband or wife happy is totally absurd.

    It is not your spouse’s job to make you happy. That is your responsibility. Happiness comes from within because it is an esoteric feeling that passes like gas. Another person can’t make you happy any more than they can make you love yourself. In any given day we feel a variety of complex emotions, and the only way to find balance within the chaos is our own internal maturity of how we deal with the stresses of life. Happiness is not a goal to achieve but rather a state of being that comes with contentment of self.

    I am pretty sure the Dalai Lama isn’t expecting some lady friend to make his ass happy after she makes him bacon and eggs for breakfast – and he seems like a pretty happy dude. Relationships aren’t about holding the other person responsible for your mental well-being. They are about helping each other with the bullshit minutia of life, and listening to the other person bitch about the bullshit minutia of life.

    The only person you are accountable for making happy is yourself. And guess what? A happy person is usually a nice person to be around. They are inherently more thoughtful, compassionate, and giving because their mind isn’t clouded with anxiety or depressing thoughts. When people solely prioritize the happiness of others it makes them feel like shit, and therefor eventually act like it too. Just as you could alienate your spouse by being selfish, you could also turn out to be a bitter bride who has given her life to a man only to dream about poisoning his martini. When your own happiness is a priority it is easier to be a giving partner because you don’t feel emotionally depleted.
    fox-news-feminism-blog-(i)

    July 9, 2014 • Current Events, Musings, Relationships, Vagina Stuff, Women's Business • Views: 1983

  • The Hell Of High Heel Shoes

    I do not wear high heel shoes. I am already borderline freakishly tall at 5’9” – so I have never needed an extra boost to loom over people to an even more extreme degree. Even barefoot I am taller than most, so my experience with high heels is very limited. When I do try to wear them, I walk like a NBA player in drag. It is not a good look for me.

    But I get why girls like them. They make your legs look sexy, they are sassy, and they perch up your ass like a cat in heat – but the are as uncomfortable as balls in fishnets. I just don’t think they need to be the uniform of all things feminine, and wish they were more of an accent rather than a required statement of fashion. My main issue with heels is that you are so limited in your movement when you wear them. I know Beyonce can rock out her booty banging choreography in them, but you can’t climb a mountain in Manolos.

    I guess I could just be a hater because of my inexperience. When I lived in NYC my main mode of transportation was a skateboard, so I was always sweating and wearing high-tops Adidas – not the traditional chick attire. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to fancy nightclubs and getting my groove on – I was just like a mythical creature in flat shoes surrounded by gazelles in stilettos. All these girls would be looking hot in their fuck me pumps, but I would be in sneakers, twerking without my feet hurting.

    So as the universe would have it, of course my daughter is obsessed with high heels – BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK WOULDN’T SHE BE!!!?? The Munch has these plastic Cinderella “glass” slippers that she insists on wearing every day, for every occasion. These shoes are the bane of my existence. Every normal kid activity such as running, skipping, jumping off rocks, all are done with caution now because of these goddamn mother-fucking shoes!!!!

    It makes me so depressed because more than anything I want my daughter to be a bad ass and do physical shit. So when she is restricting her abilities because of this binding foot torture, it breaks my heart. Yet The Munch is passionately committed to her heels, as well as proving me wrong that they constrain her.

    Munch: Mamma… I can’t climb up the slide!
    Toni: That is because of those forsaken shoes Munch! I keep telling you those aren’t outside shoes! They are dress up shoes!
    Munch: But I am playing dressing up and I am playing outside!
    Toni: Yeah, but those shoes are just for dressing up inside. They suck as outdoor shoes. That is why I keep buying you other shoes to wear. So you can do all the stuff you want to do.
    Munch: I can still do the stuff I want to do!!
    Toni: Munch, no you can’t if you can’t climb up this slide. Look, take your shoes off.
    Munch: I don’t want to.
    Toni: Please just trust me. Take them off for only a minute.
    Munch: Okay, I will listen to you.
    Toni: Now climb up the slide with your bare feet…. See isn’t that so much easier?
    Munch: Yes, but I can still do it with my high heels. I am going to put them back on.
    Toni: I don’t get it! You just had such an easier time climbing with your bare feet, why would you put them back on?
    Munch: Because I like them!

    There I sat at the top of the slide, watching Munch struggle to climb up with her shitty plastic shoes on. They have no traction on the bottom, so she kept slipping, and slamming her knees. Yet she wouldn’t stop trying. At first we were laughing hysterically because it was so insanely hard for her. Then Munch got super angry that she couldn’t do it, and was basically proving my point. I will also add that I am sure I wasn’t helping by rubbing it in, reminding her just how right I was as she slithered down. So then she ran away, sulked for a while on the rock, and gave me dirty looks.

    Then, as if possessed by ambition, Munch came back with the determination of an OCD ox. And I will be damned she climbed the shit out of that slide.

    I guess if she is going to wear these stupid shoes, at least she is building her upper body strength.
    high-heels-blog-(i2)high-heel-blog-(i1)

  • L’eau de Snatch

    Don’t hate me because I am beautiful, but also don’t hate me because I am not beautiful enough.  You should only hate me because earlier I took your toothbrush and itched my bum with it- and I wasn’t wearing underwear.

    Beauty is a huge part of a woman’s existence.  Women feel bad about themselves when society doesn’t deem them beautiful, but they also feel sorry for themselves when they are too beautiful and prejudiced against.  Chicks are so often defined by their appearance that no matter what the circumstance, there is always something to complain about.  Beauty, or lack their of, is ultimately an objectifying force because it will forever be a descriptive to your identity.  “I am the pretty girl” or “I am not the pretty girl.”  But why can’t you just be that girl who has dope personality and a nice warm gooey vagina that men want to bury their penis in?  Is it just men who make us feel like beauty is everything, or do we also do it to ourselves?

    Where the tragedy lies is how women who don’t feel attractive enough also sometimes feel invisible to the world of men.  Dustin Hoffman who was recently interviewed about his role in the movie Tootsie, opens up about how hard it was for him to realize that plight of the woman.  He describes that when he was preparing for the role, he wanted to make sure he passed as an actual woman, so he took his costume to the streets to see how he was received.  And even through he was seen as a woman, he was not revered as beautiful.  In his heart he knew he made an interesting woman, but he also knew so many men wouldn’t get to know him/her because he wasn’t conventionally pretty.  And his own angst bled into the fact that he had to realize how many women he looked over and never approached because of his own biases and superficial impulses.  “There are too many interesting woman that I have not had the chance to know in this life because I have been brainwashed,” Hoffamn said through tears.

    Take another example of tennis player Marion Bartoli winning the Wimbledon Women’s championship and having a BBC on air presenter say “Do you think her dad told her when she was little ‘You are never going to be a looker? You’ll never be a Sharapova, so you have to be scrappy and fight.’” Okay this comment is idiotic for so many reasons.  For one, it is not like Sharapova won matches with her perky tits and flawless facial features.  She didn’t use her pout to ricochet the ball to the other end of the court.  Her ass didn’t serve, or hit volleys.  She played tennis well, just like the other lass Bartoli.  For this guy to imply that looks have anything to do with capabilities as an athlete is ridiculous, and by doing that both these woman are being subjected to the concept that their beauty either makes them better or worse as people.

    The focus on looks doesn’t only reside within the cultural standards, but also within our own heads.  And maybe that is because as women we are socialized to care about our beauty because we think that is what men want from us.  And maybe we are conditioning our men to be attracted to the beauty we find beautiful? Do men really care if a woman is conventionally beautiful from a biological primal perspective, or are they drawn to standard attractiveness because they want to be admired by other woman?  Like I am the man with the hot woman, don’t you other woman want me more as a consequence because I am so desirable?  Do woman define the beauty standards or do men?  Maybe as chicks if we had a more flexible definition so would the men.  Maybe us women are holding on just as tight to these oppressive standards?

    Okay but this is not new to you.  You all already know this bullshit.  Both men and women are totally brainwashed when it comes to beauty and the question isn’t is this happening, but what can we do about it.

    Well I think I have the solution.  According to this documentary called “The Science of Sex Appeal” a woman’s copulins has an extremely powerful effect on men.  If you are not sure what I am talking about, copulins are hormones/chemicals secreted by a woman’s vagina.  In this experiment, scientists created synthetic copulins for men to inhale while looking at pictures of women.  So just to be clear, scientists took the time to develop a scent of cootch, that they then bottled and administered through a gas mask sending the aroma of pussy directly into these guys’ noses.  Yes.  That really happened.

    But the findings were fascinating.  While these men were inhaling the fragrance of a woman’s front bottom, they were unable to distinguish between conventionally attractive women and less attractive women.  Yup.  So while guys are wafting on twat, they think all women are pretty damn sexy.

    So I am developing a fragrance called “L’eau de Snatch” for the ladies.  By smelling like muff you will be sure to attract men because ultimately all they care about is crawling into your love pocket.

    l'eau-de-snatch-blog-(i)

    July 10, 2013 • 3 years old, Current Events, Mommy Body, Mommy Mind, Musings, Women's Business • Views: 2710