A few days ago, I learned that a childhood friend of mine was pregnant and found myself unexpectedly exuberant over the idea of buying mini-things for a mini (and quite possibly bald) person who is to arrive in Arizona sometime around the ides of March. I thought this tiny soul should own my mini “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” shirt that I once dressed my cat Moskow in and an outfit that made him look like a panda, and my heart started racing in a new unfamiliar way. Lately, I feel like that female caricature that walks around with a cartoon clock ticking over her head and thinks her ovaries are a worthy dinner topic. I see a baby and I involuntarily gurgle, or at the very least talk in the same intonation I use for my cats (pitched perfectly high for their tiny little ears). In order to combat what can only be described as a genealogical disorder (i.e., the desire to have a baby before you have a mortgage), I have taken to interviewing women I know who have children. Keep reading »
Tag Archives: children
Signs that Betty White has truly hit a new level of fame: she hosted “Saturday Night Live” and won the Emmy for it; she appeared on “Inside the Actor’s Studio”; Robert Pattinson called her the sexiest woman alive; and this little two year old is her biggest fan. “Betty White has blonde hair!” We’re sure she’s glad to hear that! [via Twentysomething Tales] Keep reading »
How would you feel if you knew your young child’s art teacher used to be a prostitute? This is the question at the heart of a news story making waves this week in New York City. Melissa Petro, a “well-liked” elementary school art teacher in the Bronx for the past three years, was recently reassigned to administrative duty after the school system caught wind of her history as a prostitute. Petro was never arrested and has no criminal record. So, how did the school find out about her past? Oh, because she blogged about it for the Huffington Post a couple of weeks ago.
My boyfriend and I have been together for many years and are intimate in every way except one: he wants dirty talk (really, really filthy talk) in the bedroom and I’m not comfortable giving it. I’m not a prude by any means, and am willing to try anything at least once in every other aspect of our relationship, but this is something I can’t, and frankly won’t, do. I tried it once and in addition to feeling totally embarrassed, I felt like it cheapened the experience. My boyfriend recently confessed that my not being able to do this for him means that I don’t trust him and love him enough to open up to him completely, and implied that our relationship was incomplete as a result. Is this really as big of a deal as he thinks it is? And if it is, is there any way I can get past my discomfort? — Verbal Prude
“Our backs ache/
Our skirts are too tight/
we shake our booties from left to right!”
Jennifer and Duane Tesch, of Madison Heights, Michigan, would have sooner gang-banged the cast of “Yo Gabba Gabba” than hear those words come out of 6-year-old daughter Kennedy’s mouth. I mean, who did the coaches think these kids are — Destiny’s Child? But when the Tesches complained to the cheerleading squad that perhaps there might be more age-appropriate cheers for tykes, what did the adults who run the Madison Heights Wolverines flag football cheerleading team do? They unanimously voted Kennedy off the team and told her she could try out again next year. The Tesches were told they would be reimbursed the cost of her $125 cheer uniform and to not let the door hit them on the way out. Kennedy will pursue gymnastics instead, her parents said. [FOX News] Keep reading »
Fresh out of a long, committed relationship with my childhood sweetheart to whom I was engaged long before I was ever ready to fully commit myself to someone in that regard, I rebounded. His name was Stan* and he was quiet, shy, compassionate and funny at times. I knew he wasn’t “the one,” but I had fun with him. After five months of dating, I decided that I needed someone who was more ambitious and outspoken, and called things off with Stan … only to find out that I got knocked up the last time we were ever intimate. Keep reading »
Recently, a blogger pal of mine posted a few life tips, or “life hacks” as she calls them, that she’ll pass along to any potential offspring. Her tips included great advice, like, “Never take Tylenol while you’re still drunk,” “Peeing after sex helps prevent UTIs,” and “Never click on the last picture in an Us Magazine slide show, it’s just an ad.” Her awesome list got me thinking about what little tips I’ll pass along to my potential future offspring. Check out my list after the jump and add your own in the comments.
Keep reading »
I don’t get out much.
You can tell from the way these sexy legs of mine perfectly match the white background on your computer screen.
Even worse, I don’t get out of the bedroom much. Instead, I sit cross-legged on my bed for hours on end—my laptop perched on a tray in front of me—editing content, typing up posts, reading other people’s posts, drawing up marketing plans, and connecting with other young entrepreneurs on Twitter.
I don’t do morning walks. I don’t do evenings at the bar. Sometimes, I don’t even do lunch. Keep reading »
This week, two 11-year-old boys, who were sentenced to three years probation for sexually assaulting an 8-year-old girl, became the youngest sex offenders in Britain.
Yet, it’s not clear whether they “assaulted” the girl or whether all three kids were engaging in the innocent, curious game of “show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” One day last October, the West London girl had come home to tell her mother that two local 10-year-old boys had shoved her off her scooter, pulled her pants down, and then raped her. Though, when questioned by authorities later, she said that she had “been naughty” and didn’t want to tell her mother. The case went to trial and this week the jury found the boys guilty of assault, though the judge gave them a light probation sentence, saying, to the boys, “something went too far” but ” … you didn’t realize how serious what you were doing was.” Keep reading »
Facepalm. What kind of bull hooey is this? LEGO has these thingies called “minifigures,” which are little LEGO people dressed up in different outfits. There’s a spaceman. A cowboy. A magician. A deep sea diver. A zombie with a shovel and a chicken drumstick. And even a kick-ass robot! But all of those minifigures — and more — apparently have tiny little yellow LEGO penises. (OK, not really. But they are all boy LEGOs.) The only two that are women are a cheerleader and a nurse.
Geez Louise. I’m actually shocked there’s no secretary or waitress. Keep reading »