This past weekend, Amelia, Jessica and I went to our awesome marketing manager Sophie’s wedding in Maine. It was so much fun. And so much lobster. (Maine!) There were a bunch of ridiculously cute flower girls there, frolicking on the grass, running around, falling down, dancing, crying, accidentally showing everyone their underwear and generally having a lot of fun. And it was on our way from the ceremony to the reception that it struck us: those little girls are not unlike us when we get drunk. This theory was tested 15 minutes later — thanks to the open bar — when Amelia and I attempted to get the dance party started with these cute kids. They, and us, it seemed, were the only ones willing to make total fools of ourselves (as per the usual).
With that in mind, we thought up a bunch of ways that drunk adult women are sort of totally like 4-year-olds. And there are a lot of ways, trust us. Check out our list after the jump, and share your own theories in the comments. Keep reading »
Last weekend, families across the country gathered for hot dogs, fireworks, American flags, and clouds of bug spray. So much bug spray. My family was no different: we had our annual party at my sister’s house. But our party was better this year: we had a kiddie pool and a bucket filled with squirt guns. As the Fun Aunt (read: the only one with no children, which means I have surplus energy to run around the yard with the little monsters), I quickly armed myself and sneak-attacked some kiddos with a spray of water to the face. We ducked behind bushes and trees, shrieking with glee and, honestly, relief at a the cool bursts of water on a 90-degree suburban day.
But as we dodged and weaved and got wet, something occurred to me. I was playing with a gun. A toy gun, sure. But I was playing with a toy gun with kids. Keep reading »
Today In Terrible Ideas: Justin Bieber told Us Weekly that he would like to get married and start a family young. He looks to his grandparents as a model for his future relationship as they are still together and in love. Bieber said, “They love each other so much, after so many years! When I’m their age, I want to be as in love with my wife as my grandfather is with his.” This is all really romantic and sweet until you remember the German government confiscated his pet monkey because he wasn’t properly taking care of it. And that he’s constantly in trouble for pissing off his neighbors, like racing his Ferrari up and down the street. I hope he knows that smoking pot “constantly,” as the Biebs is rumored to do, isn’t good for his sperm count. Okay, I’ll stop now. But seriously, wait awhile, Biebs. [Us Weekly] [Photo: Getty]
I receive innumerable beauty and style-related PR emails each day, ranging on the spectrum from the genuinely appealing (well, of course I would like to try this new beauty product!) to the questionable and bizarre. They are usually boring and occasionally troubling (no, I do not wish to attend your “Cellulite Diaries” event, please do not make me go to that), so unless there’s an invitation to reply to or a product I want to call in, I generally just file ‘em away. But every so often I read something that is so baffling, so tone-deaf, SO STRAIGHT-UP FUCKING INCOMPREHENSIBLE, I feel it is my god-given duty as the recipient of this email to share it with the world at large. Like, HOW DID SOMEBODY ALLOW YOU TO SEND THIS? IN WHAT WORLD IS THIS OKAY? I opened one such email today.
My interest was piqued on the spot by the title, “What Your Kids’ Hair Says About You.” Like, what could the style of a child’s hair possibly say about a parent as a person? WELL. Cozy Friedman, “kids hair authority” and owner of Cozy’s Cuts for Kids, insists that the cut and style you choose for your child “speaks volumes” about your own personality. Is that strange and mostly baseless? Yes. Is that DUMB? Absolutely. It is offensive? Nah. HERE’S WHAT IS. Keep reading »
Last week, I was in a conversation on Facebook in which I admitted to not liking kids. (My comment: “Real talk: I don’t actually like babies, actually, or children.”) I thought about taking it down as soon as I posted it. An hour later, I was still thinking about taking it down. No one paid much attention to the comment; it’s not really a secret among my friends that I feel this way, although one friend wrote “Yikes,” which I’m still not sure how to respond to. Nevertheless, I felt like I had crossed some serious line. I post everything I write — mostly personal essays that connect to my political beliefs — on social media. As such, this status is definitely not the first time I’ve insulted someone with my beliefs. Yet affirming my dislike of children on Facebook seemed like a whole new level of evil.
But still, I didn’t take the status down. Keep reading »