The Cockini–because apparently the fig leaf was too much coverage

Agggghhhh, my eyes my eyes! I think I’m blind! I just saw a picture of an old man wearing this, uhhh, dare I say bathing suit, and now I close my eyes and I still see the image of his wrinkly naked body on the back of my eyelids. I’m scarred for life. Seriously, the person who sent me this picture owes me money for therapy.

Cockini

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Shewee Female Urination Device–This thing has WTF written alllllll over it

Shewee

Okay, so in the past month I think I’ve gotten no fewer than 6,000,000 requests to write something on this weird product called the Shewee. Now if you don’t know what the Shewee is, good. I think that makes you normal. You can click on this link and check it out. It’s basically this plastic tube thingie you can put up to your hoo-ha to make it easier to pee in public places just like the way a guy pees. Yes siree Bob, call it what you will, a Shewee, a cock for your cockpit, a burrito for your taco, whatever you want, alls I know is whenever I think of a plastic peeper for my cooter, I’m thinking about something with batteries and this ain’t it. Let’s just say if a plastic peeper is getting near my hoo-ha, it’s not gonna be pointed away from it.

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NoseFrida Snot and Booger Sucker – Mmmmm, salty

Snotsucker
Ewwwww, what the hell is this thing? The NoseFrida? Blagggh, you use it to suck the clogged up snot and boogers out of your rug rat’s nose. No, that is not a typo. You SUCK it out with this tube you put in their nostril. Gross, double gross, triple gross, grossity gross gross. And here are a few more thoughts I have about this nasty ass boogersucker.

1. Okay why the hell does the picture imply that I have to be the one to suck it? I mean my kid is constantly popping boogers like they’re candy. If she likes them so much, why can’t she suck her own boogies out?

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LOVE IS…

 

Love is…

1. Pulling over to the side of the road even though you’re in a hurry because someone’s Spiderman doll fell on the floor

2. Letting your kiddo spit their chewed gum in your hand because they’re done and there’s not a trashcan around

3. Shaving your legs in the middle of the winter for the ONE person on the entire planet who will see them

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Huggies Tweetpee – Just attach the blue robin to his pink torpedo and go

WTF, have you seen this? It’s called the Tweetpee and apparently this is the newest technology Huggies is testing out. Basically you clip this doodad to your kid’s diaper crotch and when your kid pees, you get a tweet on your smart phone to let you know.

TweetPee

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Honest Mommy (In case you didn’t see it at Families in the Loop)

Lately I’ve been reading this hilarious blog called Honest Toddler. If you haven’t seen it, you should go check it out. Well, it gave me a thought. If everyone loves this Honest Toddler so much, what if I were to become Honest Mommy?

For shits and giggles, let’s see what a day in the life of Honest Mommy might look like.

HUSBAND: Want to have morning sex?

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Who wouldn’t want to see Cinderella suck face with Ariel? Yes, I said that.

Okay, so I have a confession to make. It’s worse than admitting that my unibrow rivals Bert’s from Sesame Street. Worse than admitting that I like the Bachelorpad. Worse than admitting that sometimes I stand in front of the mirror topless and lift my arms up to see what my boobs used to look like.

What could be so embarrassing? Here goes. I’m one of those people who tears up on It’s a Small World at Disney. Yes, I know sometimes I come across on my blog as a cynical, heartless bitch, but there’s just something about those cute animatronic Iranians singing and dancing right beside those itty bitty robotic Israelis. And the truth is, I cry at pretty much anything Disney. Cinderella’s castle. Aladdin’s A Whole New World. The site of a delicious churro. Hell, I cry when the pilot says, “Welcome to Orlando.”

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I Hate Facebook MILFS

Even though I had nine million things to do the other day, I decided to spend a few minutes (translation: an hour) looking at Facebook. Can you blame me? Living vicariously through my friend who’s hanging out in the South Pacific is way more appealing than going grocery shopping and getting my hand caressed by the deli counter guy who has a weird hand fetish. Note to self, bring gloves the next time I need sliced meat.

Anyway, I’m looking at my newsfeed when suddenly I see this totally beautiful, svelte, blonde woman who has just run a marathon. Hmmm, I didn’t think I was friends with any supermodels, and I’m rarely friends with people who claim to run for fun because I think they’re liars. After stalking her Facebook profile for a few minutes (translation: an hour), I figure out that she was in my original moms’ group when I had my first baby. Well, that can’t be. Everyone in that group was fat. And none of us had lustrous hair. In fact, many of us had bald patches and permanent ponies. And we certainly didn’t have Gucci bags. The only bags we had were diaper bags and bags under our eyes.

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is douche bag one word or two?

My three-year-old’s an asshole. I’ll be the first to admit it. She’s whiny, cranky, bossy, bitchy, and poops a lot. Okay, so maybe that last one isn’t a part of her assholiness, or is it? But seriously, I’m always trying to correct her with all sorts of methods— strong words, timeouts, starvation, whips and chains. Thanks E.L. James!

So don’t tell anyone, but when someone else’s kid is being a jerk, it secretly makes me happy. It proves two things— that my kid isn’t the only asshole (it’s super annoying that my thesaurus won’t give me a synonym for this word even though it’ll tell me the definition) and that there are other shitty parents in the world besides myself, and Honey Boo Boo’s mom of course. So bring on the pint-sized jerk wads who make me feel better about my parenting skills.

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Losing Nemo

This weekend my family and I went to a wonderfully, amazing, Martha Stewart-esque birthday party. Just to show you how un-domestic I am, I had to look up Martha Stewart’s last name because I wasn’t sure if it was spelled Stewart or Stuart. There were fruit platters that looked like Sesame Street characters (ahh, to be a mom who has time for Pinterest). There were enough Subway sandwiches to make Jared regain the weight he lost. And last but not least, the party favors were not made in China.

Nope, this party favor wasn’t a toy that will lose parts a child can choke on. Nor was it made with plastic that will eventually cause my kids to grow a third arm or a giant goiter that looks like a head. This party favor will do something those recalled toys from China can’t do. It will die.

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