I wish I was born skinny so I didn't have to work out

So, confession: I dislike working out - immensely. I realized (more like, I remembered) this a few nights ago as I was lying in a puddle of my own sweat, giving myself a mental high-five because I couldn't physically move, after a particularly brutal Crossfit worko- I mean WOD. 

I'm not even good at it. Seriously, my Fran time is just under 8 minutes and while I feel like I'm thrusting an entire planet and doing perfect kipping pull-ups 21-15-9 times like a boss, what I'm actually doing is thrusting a 35 lb bar and using the yellow band on the pull-up bar (which is still hard, because I have to flail my legs to pull my fat ass up with my skinny arms so my chin makes it over the bar). And at the end of that WOD, I'm still crawling to my water bottle, leaving a wet trail of sweat, tears and pride behind me.

Not to mention my lack of grace when I'm doing Grace. 

Note that I opened with the fact that I participate in Crossfit. I make sure everyone knows I Crossfit and it kicks my ass and I do it for no other reason than the chance I’ll be in a situation where I would be required to wrestle a sabretooth cat – and win.

There is no reason for someone like me (a non-athletic person) to do Crossfit 6-7 days a week, except to find ways in which to nonchalantly assert the details of my WOD in almost every conversation and FB status update or IG photo op as if I was an 'athlete,' or to blog about it. Or to impress my kid.

Because I truly think I was meant to be a lazy person. I'd be so good at it, I just know. But, I digress. 

You might be wondering why, if I dislike working out so much, do I keep doing it? Well, maybe you’re not, but I’ll tell ya - and it has nothing to do with Crossfit and everything to do with general physical activity that I deem unnecessary. Like running. And lifting.

For starters, I dislike being out of shape more than I dislike working out. My body dysmorphic disorder prevents me from being content with my curves which are never under any kind of control. Curves are what I call my fat to make me feel better about filling or spilling out of my clothing. Plus, I can’t afford a new wardrobe and my clothes were getting smaller (read: I was getting bigger).

I’m also getting older and my metabolism hasn't worked right since puberty and the Freshman Fifty (in high school) saw my first set of angry, red stretch marks screaming across my calves, thighs and butt in protest of the fuller figure I was developing through the ingestion of an insane amount of food. I thought aliens were taking over my body, but I was just getting fat. 

And at my height, being more than a little curvy makes me look like a garden gnome in a pair of skinny jeans. Again, I digress.

I've dabbled in fitness since my early 30s and I know hard work and dedication can transform a body along with good eating habits, and I have just enough lack of motivation to not commit. My weight yo-yos with my sporadic interest and eventual disinterest followed by laziness with working out and that affects metabolism negatively. 

I was always looking for shortcuts because I didn't want to do the work - like pills, fads and eating disorders - which worked! However, the side effects that accompanied the rapid weight loss – thinning hair, loss of skin tone, bone density and muscle mass, growing hair in odd places – just weren't worth the dedication. 

What’s the point of being thin if you don’t look healthy or feel happy and could possibly die at some point? It’s counterproductive.

You can’t peacock in a coffin.

It wasn't until a few years ago, when my ex deployed, that I decided to make a real commitment to the on-again off-again relationship I had with fitness and give it the ‘old college try.’ I wanted to ‘wow’ him with a hard body upon his return.

Okay, so what had REALLY happened was, I saw cellulite had finally, in my mid-late 30s, visibly manifested itself on my thighs and I freaked the f*** out. 

Hey, a reason is a reason, right? 

As it turned out, I needn't have tried so hard to impress the ex by building a hard body. He likes thick chicks. And by thick, I mean according to his Google searches, the minimum ass size was 47" around. 

I blogged that experience, as well. That was back when I thought I liked working out. But I didn't. I was mistaken. I hoped I could lie to motivate myself because working out to get in shape is HARD work. 

Now I hear the big thing is to make a lifestyle change, which to me sounds like putting myself on a diet and exercise plan for life – and that there is no room for Bojangles Cajun fries for as many times as I would want to eat a medium sized order of them.

Then what the hell am I working out for? A f***ing Paleo muffin?!

Just the thought of having to workout for the rest of my life is depressing, and every night I pray that if I get a chance to come back and do this again, I’ll come back as a naturally skinny bitch so I don’t have to worry about any of this business. Maybe I’ll have boobs, too.

I guess the main reason I go back everyday is that Crossfit works for me: it’s the most intense, total body workout I can do in the shortest amount of time per day – it’s just an hour. Everyone has an hour. And in that hour, as I'm doing any number of rounds or rounds possible in the shortest time I can, I'm calculating all the things I’d rather be doing, like laundry, cleaning and arranging the fridge magnets according to the Feng Shui method of balancing the energies around me.

Because as much as I complain that I dislike working out, I can now fit into my clothes again and things on my body are toned and tight where they should be (translation, I don’t have bingo wings, jelly butt or mom boobs). 

Do I need to Crossfit? No. But I'm a results oriented person and the program works. Plus, I can't pretend I'm an "elite athlete" if I'm on the elliptical for an hour a day (as if). When I think about quitting, which usually crosses my mind about every ten seconds during a WOD,  I try to remember what I used to look like naked or the first time my kid put on my size 7 short-shorts and they were still loose - even though I couldn't pull them over my thighs and it wasn't because they were muscular.

So, NO, I don't like working out. But I dislike being out of shape more.

Disclaimer: This is in no way, shape or form against Crossfit nor is it an endorsement for Crossfit. Crossfit is for anyone who wants to do it and challenge themselves or just blog and complain about how much they love and hate it at the same time. As always, you should consult a physician or professional before beginning any workout program. 

Dear Porn Industry ... Can we talk?

(Note: I do not have this boyfriend anymore. Thanks.)

You. Are. Lying. To. My. Boyfriend.

And all men, in general.

The perfect woman is not, in fact, a ridiculously busty, 47” bubble-butt sporting, walking cosmetics counter who can turn her vagina into a super soaker on cue and keep all her orifices open for business 24/7 in any situation and location – regardless of relationship status. And ‘MILFs’ don’t walk around wearing pull-away lingerie, a thong or bikini while doing housework –you can bet if I’m doing any kind of domesticated shit, the offer of a game of poker with a penis isn’t going to deter me from the task at hand until it is finished. The perfect woman is me, and other women like me: working class chicks who have day jobs, kids and responsibilities - but can still maintain a certain amount of sexy.

I watch porn and I have no problem with my boyfriend’s iPorn collection or the fact that he has more photos of Flower Tucci, Druuna, and other big butt honeys in his phone album than he has of me. He recently left for an all expense paid, extended vacation to the FOB resort with about 320gigs of porn and five action flicks. “Backdraft,” “Point Break,” “Smokin’ Aces,” “300,” and “Rock’N’Rolla” were nestled in next to such titles as “The Milfy Way,” “Big Wet Asses volumes 1-23,” “The Hills Have Thighs,” “Missionary Position: Impossible,” “Porn Fidelity,” “American Booty” and “The DaVinci Load.”  Kudos on the title creativity, by the way.

But you’re misrepresenting the housewife, professional, and the MILF by showing us as nymphomaniacal sex-kitties waiting to fulfill our men’s celluloid fantasies. Porn is like the WWF – fake. I think that as an industry, you should be responsible and place a disclaimer at the beginning of all your films. Maybe right after all the legal stuff, you can boldly remind dudes that all the chicks involved were paid a hefty amount of money to ‘like’ getting used like a blow-up doll, allowing things to be not so gently placed where nothing should go and smile when receiving the money shot – in their eye. No one likes that. But maybe we’d take it like a champ, too, if we were getting paid some serious cash – AND we’d even pretend to like it, just like a porn star.

I don’t sleep in a thong and peephole nightie. If I wake up with a penis in my face, my first thought isn’t to fellate it – it’s to roll over and complete my eight hours of sleep so that I can make it through an eight hour workday, come home, cook, clean, rub my man’s aching muscles he flexed in the gym and try to steal five minutes of cuddle time – and that’s before I get a shower. When I wake up in the morning, my hair looks like it’s been through a wind tunnel and my face like I got punched in the eyes. Yes, I see the look of disappointment when my man realizes that no matter which angle he catches me in at 5 a.m., I will not look like one of his iPorn honeys. I won’t even begin to look normal until I’ve had a shower and a meeting with the make-up bag in my bathroom.

Which is another thing. Do you know that I would suffocate the pores on my face wearing the exact amount of special FX make-up that your version of me wears in films? I say special FX because, no matter how rough the sex is, or how sweat drenched the actors are, the make-up doesn’t run. Let me tell you - after that much physical activity, my face looks like I’ve made out with a clown and it’s not sexy.

Another service to me, and all women, would be to put out a ‘porn secrets’ video explaining some of the special effects used in porn that men might not understand in their persistence to have us recreate – like ‘squirting.’  Women don’t squirt, they pee or, as I found out with iGoogle, fill their holy of holies up with water and push it out on cue like a super soaker.

Speaking of all things down there, real women are not all perfectly shaved, they don’t bleach their butt holes and don’t have smooth, pimple free ass cheeks all the time. I have a job, a working class bank account, a kid and responsibilities that I gotta take care of; I don’t have time or energy, to turn myself into a walking sex-doll every night. I shave with my boyfriend’s razor (it works better), exfoliate and moisturize the girly bits, and hope I don’t get razor burn or ingrown hairs right before my boyfriend sees it. I sport a five o’clock vag-shadow most days out of the week because I’m too tired to clean it up. Why don’t you show that in one of your movies? Slightly less glam, huh?

And don’t get me started on size G-for-ginormous, gravity defying boobs and 47-inch buffet table asses. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will never look like a porn star unless I shell out some serious cash or photoshop the hell out of some self-portraits. I’m good with that. Just think that the industry could soften the blow by showing real women some love. I know you already have a section for that – amateur porn – but perhaps take your glamour lighting to some 'amateur' stuff and then I could catch a break and not feel like I’m competing with an ideal I won’t ever have the energy meet.

By the way, one other small request: I watch – and like – porn. But, it’s getting harder and harder (no pun intended) for me to find any videos that interest me. It all starts out somewhat normal enough (for porn), a little cheesy with the set-up and acting (but I fast forward through all that anyway), then it goes from vaginal to - anal? Yeah, so not a turn on. I don’t want to see that and I don’t want to have to check out old-school videos to get what I want because that leads to the other part of my request. Can you please remove Ron Jeremy and the old, skinny Cuban dude from all past, present and future porn? They are not attractive and neither are their manly bits. It’s like you sneak them into the middle of a perfectly good set and you mess up my rhythm. If it’s a fetish, like bondage, GILF porn or bestiality, it should be packaged that way so I don’t accidentally pick it up.

So, give us real women some love, put out a large print disclaimer for dudes, stop it with the over-abundance of anal scenes and take out the gross guys, okay? Thanks.

Yours truly,

Concerned real woman who cleans up nicely

An open letter to Demi Moore

Dear Demi,
So, your boy-husband left you after eight years of marriage and is hooking up with a new chick who is closer to his age - which means she's younger than you.

Sucks, doesn't it? Devastating, even.

After all those years of being with you, pretend-loving you and, let's face it, cheating on you - what? you didn't think it was only one time, did you? - he moved on so fast. All you want to feel is that your time together meant something to him.

Newsflash: it didn't mean as much to him. If it did, he wouldn't have boffed a chick on your anniversary.

So, get over it already, it's been almost a year.

I feel for you, I really do, because I've been where you are right now - several times, in fact. It doesn't get easier. No, I'm not your age yet but I have a rule that my boyfriends can't be more than nine years younger than me, and guys like Asshole Kutcher come in all ages. I like to call that demographic of men douchebags. They seldom change, even with age. At some point, they either get tired of trying so hard to get laid or notice their looks are fading, girls aren't biting anymore and decide that settling down is the only way to guaranteed vagina.

But I digress ...

Take a look at yourself; what you are doing so publicly isn't classy. You're in the news for a breakdown over a boy. Rehab? For what? I doubt his semen was made of cocaine and I'm sure you convinced yourself his penis was bigger and better than any other that you've ever had even though we both know it really wasn't.

You want him to remember you as a woman who respects herself and doesn't pine over someone so undeserving. A classy woman who doesn't destroy herself over a man who is clearly not interested in her anymore.You want him to look back with a pang of regret when all his other relationships fail or he ends up in a passionless coupling with a starlet who is - well, who is not you.

Which brings me back to the main point: He poked a slutty vag on your anniversary!

He basically took a gigantic poop on you, your kids and your entire relationship with that one move. You should be getting divorced and moving on - not throwing yourself a self-pity party every day hoping he will realize how miserable he really is without you - because he won't.Right now, you are validating his reason for not sticking around.

Seriously, is this the kind of guy you want your daughters to look up to? And what kind of example are you setting for them? Do you want your girls to believe it's okay for a man to treat them like they are worthless?

The best revenge is moving on and living your life like he never existed - even if it's on the outside. You would be doing two things with that plan of action: 1) Remembering yourself and your worth and 2) showing any chick that comes after you that he's not worth pining over.

We all know that the more you throw a pissing fit over a man, every other girl will want him. If you, an American icon, don't want him, why would any other self-respecting chick? Right now, his new girl is latched on tighter than a hooker with a dollar bill because she thinks she has something amazing. There is nothing amazing about a man who cheats on his wife, family and girlfriend - no matter what the reason.

Personally, I think you should still be with Bruce Willis. He aged well. Asston isn't going to age well. He has very feminine features and a weak jaw line. You want a manly looking man, not a skinny-fat, can't sport a sexy 5 o'clock shadow because puberty skipped him, prick.

Be an inspiration to women who are rebounding from bad break-ups - or at least to your daughters. I know, it's hard to be strong sometimes, but find your strength in your family, friends and retail therapy.

God knows that if I had the cash to spend myself happy, it wouldn't have taken me as long as it did to get over some break-ups - and I wouldn't have re-dated some of my exes.

Here's hoping you find your self-respect, pride and dignity, and pull your shit together soon.

Much love,
Dawn

An open letter to Taylor Swift

"The funniest part is that she's not even 18; she's 24," ~ K.E. 

Dear Taylor Swift,

I saw your performance during the Grammy's. Cute. I'm also now looking at an article on you and your newest Brit singer-beau. Really? Does he know he's just a draft for another song for your new album? 

I’m a reluctant fan. I will admit that your post-break up tunes are rather catchy and as long as I listen to them in moderation, I won’t puke – much. I’ve even been known to belt out one or two of your tunes in a drunken fit of karaoke.

FYI: I wouldn’t encourage that in a biker bar, they don’t like that.

But I digress.

We’ve all had our fair share of break-ups. As a matter of fact, I can count mine on two hands and still have digits left. For 39 years old, I consider that having a modest dating career – with the longest being 8 years. 

Not all of the experiences were good and one in particular was pretty emotionally damaging. But I try to find the lesson and humor in every situation before I exploit the hell out of my experiences in an emotionally charged, semi-autobiographical (if not anonymous) blog entry that isn’t meant so much for revenge as it is a release of pent up frustration and heartbreak.

After everything, though, here is what I learned: I am not always the victim.

I am also sorry to point out that neither are you and you should probably come to that realization, too, before you go down in history as the ‘crazy boy lady.’ You can't be 18 forever and at some point, you and your music have to mature. As a role model to young tweenage girls, consider it your civic duty. Besides, airing your dirty laundry in song, while garnering you platinum album fame, isn’t convincing anyone that you’re mature.

Seriously, at just 24 years old your list of former flames rivals an escort’s client list. Am I exaggerating? I don’t know, how many albums have you put out with how many songs about how many break-ups? I can’t count all of those on my fingers and toes.

Here’s something else you should consider: Maybe you think exploiting your exes by writing some catchy, pop tunes is the best revenge. Calling attention to how many guys dumped or cheated on you is kind of a warning to other guys you may want to date someday – whittling your pool of prospects to those who need the publicity to jumpstart their careers. Plus, let’s face it; none of those guys in your past heard any of your songs and thought, “wow, did I screw up.”

Look, there are only so many boy pop bands and you’re going through them rather quickly. Eventually, you won’t have a break-up to write about. I think it’s time you turned your songwriting efforts to appeal to a wider range of teenage angst drama - like partying, waking up feeling like P-Diddy, shopping and being the bad-ass chick who does the heartbreaking. There’s a whole demographic – and several more platinum album opps – you can exploit.

Remember, this biz is all about creating longevity in your career. When it comes down to it, do you really want to be known as the ‘hang-and-banger’ – the chick who hangs out with a guy only to bang out a song victimizing herself in the hopes of teaching him a lesson. Because in the end, once it’s over, he really doesn’t care  because the intent was to “never, ever get back together.”

Sincerely,

Chick Norris

Just a few things science fiction movies got wrong:

Yes, folks, I am a huge fan of science fiction – not just busting d-bags balls as Chick Norris. Just the other day, a co-worker and I were discussing one really huge inaccuracy from the movie John Carter. I won’t go into detail, as I’m sure there are a few of you who haven’t seen it, but if you’ve seen it and want to know, message me. We’ll talk. For everyone else, let’s talk sci-fi and why some of that s*&# just isn’t possible – yet.

1.Time travel: Impossible. It requires that you travel faster than light and according to Einstein, there is nothing that can travel faster than light. Not to mention the amount of energy you need to get to the speed of light is … well, you will need an infinite supply of energy. Theoretically, wormholes can make that happen, but you would need something called negative energy to keep one of those bad boys open – and as far as anyone knows, there’s no such thing.

2.In space, no one can hear you scream: correct, they can’t. See, sound needs air to travel and there’s no air – and no light - in the vacuum of space. So, all those super-cool space ship fights in the movies would actually be pretty boring to watch in real life.

3.Humanoid and half-breed aliens: probably not accurate. Here’s why: Humans have evolved according to our environment and we should assume that life on other planets would evolve the same. So, the odds of the universe being stocked with “chesty, alien princesses who crave starship captains” is slim to none. Which brings us to half-breeds (human/alien offspring). Our DNA is too different for us to interbreed with other species on our own planet, much less an alien species. So, when you are watching, “Species 4 or 5 or 10” and they are making a baby from human/alien experiment … it’s highly impossible as there’s no guarantee that an alien species could have the same DNA encoding we do.

4.Laser bolts you can dodge: you can’t. Why? Because lasers are made of light and you can’t travel faster than the speed of light. So, unless whoever is pointing a laser gun at you is a poor shot, you’re getting hit. Boom. Let’s hope it’s set on stun.

5.Planetary gravity: not the same as on Earth. Different planets have different gravitational pulls. Here’s one aspect of the movie John Carter that was correct. When John Carter appeared on Mars, he had the ability to jump great distances and heights. That’s because while he weighed about 180 pounds on Earth, he would only weigh about 70 pounds there. It’s incredibly shortsighted to assume that every perceived, ‘habitable.’ planet will be just like Earth. That said:

6.What does every planet in ever science fiction movie have in common? You guess it. They all look like Earth. While that’s not impossible, just like alien species looking humanoid, it’s probably unlikely. Consider the planets in our own solar system – each has varying ecological areas depending on their atmospheric and weather patterns. Venus, considered Earth’s twin, is all desert, but we can’t live on it because the surface is hot enough to melt lead. So, we have to assume whatever life is on these other planets was born to and has evolved to be able to survive there.  So, alien life probably wouldn’t survive on Earth in the event of an actual alien invasion. They probably wouldn’t be able to survive on our planet.

Douche of the week: the Media

So, I logged into my Facebook account the other day (something I do fairly frequently) and I saw that the majority of my 2,458 ‘friends’ had replaced their status updates with something like this:

‘Charlie Sheen is all over the news because he's a celebrity drug addict while Soldier’s name, age; Soldier’s name, age; and Soldier’s name, age; were Soldiers who gave their lives this week with no media mention. Please honor them by posting this as your status for a little while.’

It’s a very real reminder that there is still a war going on overseas and moms, dads, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles and people’s children are making the ultimate sacrifice for freedom: their lives, the lives of their loved ones. Clearly, with the recent psychological and emotional breakdown of current celebrities (Lindsay Lohan, Charlie Sheen), the media has forgotten about the Soldiers who are still deployed and fighting so the rest of us at home can enjoy such frivolities as … watching a sitcom star break down on national television, the news and through social media sites. Let’s break out the popcorn and fuel the celebrity narcissists who know exactly how to capture America’s attention through publicity stunt meltdowns. It was interesting for about a hot minute, only because I quote Mean Girls and grew up watching the Sheens.

And, look, already I’ve spent too many words mentioning the selfish, overpaid people whose continued ‘fame’ is bent on the mere mention of their names.

Seriously, I’m a military brat, my dad served over 20 years in the Army. My middle brother was in the Air Force and my youngest brother … well, he decided to go to college. I considered the military until I saw how much physical activity was required for morning PT. Not my thing. But it is the ‘thing’ for all of those who decided to join, those like my boyfriend and the Soldiers I work with everyday, who believe in something other than themselves and who continue to protect our rights and freedoms. Those are the ones who should get the spotlight, whose families should be thanked and, honestly, deserve a better paycheck than any celebrity or athlete. They are our heroes, like the kind you see in the movies, only for real. That would make them celebrities, too, right?

Wrong. There’s no red carpet welcome for them when they come home – if they come home at all.

According to the Defense Manpower Data Center, since Operation Iraqi Freedom started in 2003 until July 2010, over 4,000 (some Web sites claim over 6,000) American Soldier’s have lost their lives while deployed. This doesn’t include the coalition forces or civilian death toll (those numbers were pretty staggering). I know that there can’t be a story on every Soldier who has been killed in action or family member who has lost a Soldier, and I’m not even saying that the media hasn’t covered the war at all in recent months. What I am saying is that in the last few weeks that I turned on the news, all I heard about was the Sheen-ocalypse. Before that, it was Gaga-gate and even before that we had Tiger’s Woody. The only time it seems that a Soldier is in the news nowadays is if there’s an isolated incident of a bad choice that leads to fatalities.

Maybe to some, news of what’s going on in Iraqi-stan is played out. I know that the majority of the population tunes into the boob-tube for entertainment, to escape the reality of what’s going on in the world around them. They make television shows like Jersey Shore, Teen Mom, The Bachelor and American Idol: Auditions so that we can rejoice in our lives not sucking as bad as those that seem to suck more ass than a bus seat. But when I turn on the news, I expect to hear about newsworthy topics, not an entire loop of CNN coverage of celebrity drama. Don’t get me wrong, I’m genetically predisposed to being drawn to gossip about folks whose lives mean absolutely nothing in the day to day of my own life. But there’s a time and a place for that: prime time television and E! News Daily.

To the men and women who have served and are still serving; to those who have lost their lives and to all their families, you guys are my superheroes and celebrities.

To the media: quit being douche-tubes; prioritize and realize there are too many angles to cover what’s going on with the military and actual newsworthy events. I know, I read about it every week in the military newspaper.

Gov't wants to regulate junk food ads aimed at kids ... maybe they should ban parents from buying it first

So, the government wants food companies and restaurants to cut back on advertising unhealthy foods to children. Because it’s not the parents’ fault that kids eat junk at mealtime instead of healthy food. No, with restaurants and food companies bombarding kids with ads for junk foods and sodas, it’s clearly not on a parent to know how to moderate a childs’ diet by limiting the amount of said advertised junk food a child eats. I’m assuming this is a government effort to tackle the nationwide, childhood obesity epidemic. Part of that effort is to blame the people providing those foods by targeting the adolescent demographic through advertising. That’s like saying I can eat McDonald’s every day for every meal, gain a lot of weight and then blame the restaurant for making it so enticing through advertising that I had no choice but to buy it and eat it – every day.

Bull and crap.

This is not the fault of advertising. If it wasn't working, they wouldn't do it. Parents know that sodas, gummy snacks, cookies and processed and fast foods are not the healthiest choices but are too busy or too tired to think about what they are feeding their kids. At the end of an 8-hour work-day, it’s easier to whip-up, pick-up or leave it up to the kids to dictate their meals. So, if a kid is eating it, a parent is buying it. How can you blame advertisements? Advertisements are purchase suggestions, not ultimatums. Parents clearly have a choice in whether to make that purchase or not. If children are making the food buying decisions in a household, then maybe the dynamics of that family need to be re-evaluated. Just because my daughter asks me for soda or cereal loaded with sugar, doesn’t mean I’m going to buy it for her. But I’ve been known to nuke a boxed meal for her because I was too tired after work and I've let her down a half-a-box of Oreos because it was easier than arguing with her - not because she saw an ad on TV and made me do it. I am the parent and I have the authority to say NO.

But, looking at the new proposal, companies will be urged to only market foods to children ages 2 through 17 that are low in fats, sugars and sodium, and contain specific, healthy ingredients. Under new guidelines that would be phased in over the next five years, foods that “have any trans-fat, more than one gram of saturated fat, 13 grams of added sugars and 210 mg of sodium” would not be eligible for marketing. This is to “support, rather than undermine parents’ efforts to get their children to eat more healthfully.” So, basically, we’ll be looking at ads for fuits and veggies, grains and other healthy foods that parents are already not buying their kids. And no matter how you package broccoli, kids are still probably not going to want to eat it.

This isn’t the first time that the government has intervened. Public health advocates argued that the food industry’s self regulation is not enough, and pushed for the government to set guidelines - which they did. Back in 2009, Congress directed the FTC and ADFDA to develop recommendations. The guidelines were broad, but the food industry reduced the number of TV ads aimed at children over recent years and many of those companies reformulated foods to reduce unhealthy ingredients. I’d say that’s a win.

Although these newer guidelines are voluntary, I’m sure we’ll see a slight change in what is being advertised as far as food is concerned. But, again, we can’t blame a company or restaurant for what and how much parents are feeding their children. It’s every person’s responsibility to know and understand that too much unhealthy deliciousness is going to have an adverse affect on their child’s health. Our kids are fat because we are making them that way by allowing them to eat what they want and be lazy. When parents care enough to encourage good eating habits by making healthy food choices for their kids as a lifestyle, discouraging WoW and other video game marathons by getting them involved in some form of physical activity, and inter-acting with their kids on a daily, we will see an increase in the wellness of children everywhere. Placing the blame on companies and restaurants is a cop-out. Place the blame where it belongs: with the parents. Because once you start regulating everything, you might as move to China. You can’t do anything there, not even time travel

Trending: Full frontal ‘dude-ity’

What’s up with all the gratuitous man-junk shots in movies and new cable series?

It’s like Hollywood ran out of ‘wow factor’ ideas and turned to the male appendage for shock value, comic relief and an attempt to hook female viewers with sex-appeal. Because, let’s face it, nothing says ‘sex appeal’ more, to chicks, than a full-on shot of a penis. Honestly, to me, that’s probably the least attractive part of the male anatomy to see on-screen, even if my new guilty pleasure is the Showtime reality series, Gigolos, which documents the sex-ploits of four (or five) male prostitutes in Vegas.

The last two movies I saw, Hall Pass and Your Highness, featured an element of surprise in the form of two schlong shots I didn’t see coming. Two of my favorite new cable series, Spartacus and Game of Thrones, throw around the full monty when it has nothing to do with what’s going on in the story; it’s as if the junk shot was a standard wardrobe change. I’m not sure if actors are stunting their rise to fame through a creative risk – the risk that their choice in roles in a particular movie or series could make or break their career. If the series is a success, it’s considered edgy; if it’s a flop, well, it’s the only thing people will remember. Look what happened to actor Simon Rex – oh, wait, that was gay porn – my bad. But his choices did affect the roles available to him in future, forgettable films, like … well, I forgot. But I digress …

It’s like when Tinsel-town discovered naked chicks drew box office bucks and actresses saw a way to jumpstart a stagnant career. As a matter of fact, nowadays, it’s easier to keep track of the actresses that don’t do nude scenes than the ones that do. But a penis is kind of like a fart joke, it gets old after a while. Boobs never get old - ever. Because, unlike the penis, you can be assured that every set of tits that shows up in a movie or on cable, that’s not featured on a health documentary, will look great. You can’t really guarantee that about a man’s junk. It just hangs there … until it’s moved. That is truly an appendage that’s for functionality only. You can’t even dress it up.

So, being the curious gal that I am, I decided to take to the Internet and learn more about this new … element … in movie-making. What I found out was that that first, this wasn’t an all female idea as a way to stick it to the dudes for objectifying the female form and two, men have been getting naked in film for a while now – although not as often as women until more recently. Why?

According to the executive producer of a reality series on cable television, more male nudity can be viewed as less repressed and more balanced to what is shown of women. In the movie Your Highness, the director said the shot of the Minotaur’s weenis (which comes out of nowhere) was the subject of much planning and internal debate from within and outside of the studio. Lighting, size and the state of arousal were all discussed at length to produce the final filmed scene. I imagine the same can be said of all the featured and cameo appearances of a man’s junk in television or film.

In the past, the scenes were so fast and so small, it was almost as if Hollywood was testing the waters of what would be acceptable by quick flashes and faraway, you-can-almost-make-out-a-no-no-part shot. It was shocking to see a man’s jigglies flash before your eyes on-screen, and sometimes it was so fast you wondered if that really happened. But actors have been known to take it off for a movie. Richard Gere did it in American Gigolo. Bruce Willis bared a close up of his itty bitties in The Colour of Night and although Wild Things was popular for other reasons, Kevin Bacon gives the full frontal in the cult classic. In Alexander, Colin Farrell bares it all for a wedding-night sex scene. Then there’s the unnecessary, bleach your eyes, nude wrestling scene between Sasha Baron-Cohen and his rather large sidekick, in Borat. Funny, but ever so gross, the image of the fat guy’s bits bouncing on Baron-Cohen’s face is forever imprinted into my brain.

What I came to conclude after much research and a lot of thinking is that man-junk is Hollywood’s new trump card. It’s the surprise, new element to making comedies even more funny and sex scenes more realistic. In other words, the creative geniuses that make movie magic happen have run out of ideas and pulled this out of their asses. Even though I don’t really care to see a man’s no-no parts, I can’t really complain. Those gratuitous scenes are part of some of my favorite new shows on cable.

Oh. My. Gosh. Look at his junk. I mean, it's so GROSS. It looks like one of those slim jims you get at the store. I mean, it's ... so ... WEIRD looking ...

Spanking: is it child abuse or a parent’s right?

I don’t spank my daughter anymore. Actually, I stopped spanking her when she was still a toddler because, as a form of discipline, it wasn’t working. Nothing made that fact more clear than when her father gave her a choice between getting a spanking or having her television privileges revoked and she weighed-in on which would be worse by asking how many spankings she would get. She was 4-years old. From that point on, we realized the more effective disciplinary action would be to start restricting her fun stuff.

But for some parents, spankings work and who are we to tell them they may not discipline their kids as they see fit? I ask this because I recently came across an article written by a woman who was abused as a child and considered calling the police on a parent who spanked her child in a public place because she felt it was child abuse. She went on to ask, “how can we work to eradicate child abuse when it’s legal to spank?” She continued to state her case by saying spanking is assault and battery, noting that there are even a few states that have passed anti-spanking laws.

Whoa. That’s a little dramatic.

Child abuse and neglect are defined by federal and state laws. According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, child abuse is any recent act or failure to act on the part of a parent or caretaker, which results in death, serious physical or emotional harm, sexual abuse or exploitation, an act or failure to act which presents an imminent risk of serious harm, or the rape, and in cases of caretaker or interfamilial relationships, statutory rape, molestation, prostitution, or other form of sexual exploitation of children, or incest with children. Whew. That was a mouthful.

Let’s go ahead and break that down:

Physical Abuse
Physical abuse is generally defined as "any non-accidental, physical injury to the child" and can include striking, kicking, burning or biting, or any action that results in a physical impairment of the child. In approximately 38 states, the definition of abuse also includes acts or circumstances that threaten the child with harm or create a substantial risk of harm to the child's health or welfare.

Neglect:
Neglect is frequently defined as the failure of a parent or other person with responsibility for the child to provide needed food, clothing, shelter, medical care, or supervision such that the child's health, safety, and well-being are threatened with harm. Approximately 24 states include failure to educate the child as required by law in their definition of neglect. Seven states specifically define medical neglect as failing to provide any special medical treatment or mental health care needed by the child. In addition, four States define as medical neglect the withholding of medical treatment or nutrition from disabled infants with life-threatening conditions.

Sexual Abuse/Exploitation
All States include sexual abuse in their definitions of child abuse. Some States refer in general terms to sexual abuse, while others specify various acts as sexual abuse. Sexual exploitation is an element of the definition of sexual abuse in most jurisdictions. Sexual exploitation includes allowing the child to engage in prostitution or in the production of child pornography.

Emotional Abuse
Almost all States include emotional maltreatment as part of their definitions of abuse or neglect. Approximately 32 States provide specific definitions of emotional abuse or mental injury to a child. Typical language used in these definitions is "injury to the psychological capacity or emotional stability of the child as evidenced by an observable or substantial change in behavior, emotional response or cognition," or as evidenced by "anxiety, depression, withdrawal, or aggressive behavior."

Parental Substance Abuse
* Parental substance abuse is an element of the definition of child abuse or neglect in some States. Circumstances that are considered abuse or neglect in some States include:
* Prenatal exposure of a child to harm due to the mother's use of an illegal drug or other substance (14 states and the District of Columbia).
* Manufacture of a controlled substance in the presence of a child or on the premises occupied by a child (10 states).
* Allowing a child to be present where the chemicals or equipment for the manufacture of controlled substances are used or stored (three states).
* Selling, distributing, or giving drugs or alcohol to a child (seven states).
* Use of a controlled substance by a caregiver that impairs the caregiver's ability to adequately care for the child (seven states).

Abandonment
In general, it is considered abandonment of the child when the parent's identity or whereabouts are unknown, the child has been left by the parent in circumstances in which the child suffers serious harm or the parent has failed to maintain contact with the child or to provide reasonable support for a specified period of time.

As for anti-spanking laws, I couldn’t find one state law that prohibits a parent from spanking their children. What I did find was that some states defined what is considered abuse by whether a mark is left and how long the child sports the mark – even if it’s just a spanking. So, if you spank your child on the leg and your hand print is left longer than the state definition allows, you will be looking at a visit from child protective services if you are reported.

Most of us who are over a certain age, and even some who aren’t as old, remember getting spanked growing up. I know I do, and I can tell you that I never did the same thing twice if I got spanked for it the first time. My parents totally believed in the power of the hand on my ass to get their point across. When that didn’t work, they moved on to more effective means of discipline like taking away privileges and manual labor. It worked, I didn’t turn out too bad.

Going back to the article about the woman who wanted to report a parent for spanking a child, people should mind their own business unless they witness someone beating or mistreating a child as defined by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and the law. Let me just emphasize that spanking is not considered a beating – a beating will leave a bruise. Some might argue that corporal punishment leaves an emotional scar or mark on a child that they carry into adulthood. Well, so does name-calling on the playground. Everyone has a different parenting technique which includes how they choose to discipline their children. Some believe in spankings, while others choose to try alternative methods of discipline. Some might even start with spanking and move onto something different when that doesn’t work anymore, like me and my daughter’s dad. But whatever the method, it’s a parent’s right, not anyone else’s, to decide what works for them.

EXTRA: a study conducted last year resulted in finding that children spanked up to the age of six, are likely to perform better at school as a teenager, were more likely to carry out volunteer work and to want to go to college than their peers who had never been physically disciplined.

What I learned about alien invasions from Hollywood

We are not alone in the universe; the truth is out there.

Out of all the planets in the universe, aliens will come to Earth first.
Earth is a magnet for alien invasions.

Aliens will always target Los Angeles or New York City first, so it’s safer to live in more obscure areas of the country like Fayetteville, NC; Sparks, NV; Killeen, TX; Miami, FL; or anywhere in Europe and Asia.

Aliens look just like us, but they don’t really. If you have these special glasses, you can see their true form.

Aliens don’t really come in peace. They come to destroy all life on earth so they can re-colonize it.

The military is involved in a cover-up conspiracy involving the existence of UFOs because anyone non-military “can’t handle the truth.”

There will always be one alien who falls in love with a human, fathers a half-breed child and helps the humans.

The military and all its high tech weapons will be useless against the aliens.

It's our fault that aliens even know about our planet, what with sending out messages via frequency modulated radio waves in hopes of starting a conversation with them. Well, all we've done is alert them to our advancing technology and planetary resources.

Only one person can save the world in the event of an alien invasion and it won’t be you. He will be a single dad, widower or a soon-to-be-retired military dude.

That said, if you happen to meet one, you have a 50/50 chance of surviving the invasion.

English is the intergalactic language and all aliens are fluent.

Water, a baseball bat and a cold virus are useful in defending yourself in case of an alien encounter. If you own a MAC and are proficient in computer programming/hacking, you can defeat alien technology. If you have the flu, sneeze or cough on them.

Aliens are only teaching earthlings a lesson for slowly destroying the Earth by totally annihilating the planet and population in a few days.

Alien abductions are real and they are traumatizing – if you can remember them.

If the military compiled a list of all the alien invasion movies and conducted an extensive study of the footage of all the different scenarios of an attack, it may have a chance at thwarting an invasion.

That said, alien scouts have already been sent ahead to infiltrate, learn and report back to the mothership/planet and will no doubt have access to that information so their leaders can form alternate attack plans.

In the end, aliens will attack and destroy everything on Earth, but the human race will eventually win and have to start over.

If you play video games, you can easily pilot an alien ship and even figure out their weapon systems.

Thunder Cats: To Catch a Cougar

“Cougars are all the rage, but don’t let ‘em out they cage, ancient and middle aged, want c***s and botox in they face … they ain’t even gotta be that old, if they’re twice ya age, ya good to go. Young girls, they all right, but a night with a cougar: PRICELESS” – Dirt Nasty, “Cougars”

Seriously, all the hype surrounding the cougar phenomenon is doing nothing more than to create unrealistic expectations, and sometimes unfair, judgments when it comes to single, older women. It’s like being a superhero; cougars now have a responsibility to not disappoint. They even get their own set of stripes: any kind of animal print. Maybe a Cougar League of America is in order, where women who meet the requirements of being a cougar can register, get a membership card and handbook with rules and regulations, and even pick their own cougar name with a cougar power. Mine would be Persian Honey; my cougar power would be sexting – I’ve watched enough porn to know what guys wanna read.

“Ridonculous.”

Let’s clarify a point: if a woman is dating a man more than 15 to 20 years younger, then she’s definitively a cougar. A lesser age gap is not enough to stereotype (sorry girls who are in a hurry to own the term for their own – age minimum is 35-40 FYI). What surprises me is how many chicks want this title, almost as many as those quick to define themselves as a MILF. Neither term is complimentary, but to be sure, I’d rather be called a cougar than a MILF. I remember a time when women who dated boys were called cradle-robbers. It wasn’t cool … unless it was porn and told from the dude’s perspective; then it was hot.

So, boys want to know how to score an older chick. They think older women don’t come with the same drama and expectations younger women have when it comes to relationships and are dynamite in the sack. News flash, young grasshoppas: few things change, as women get older, when it comes to relationship expectations (except they are well versed in the dirty, having many years to hone their skills). If anything, older chicks take less crap, want more and settle for less. It’s a lot to put up with for nothing more than some ass. There are tons of Web advisors – mostly men - offering advice on how to catch a cougar. Apparently there’s a few considerations to be taken like wardrobe, how to act, sexy talk techniques and even which locations are crawling with cougars. Here’s a clue: if older women are predators, they’ve already spotted you before you even walked through the door. Heads up, buttercup, she’s already stalking you.

If you really want to catch a cougar, guys, and you’re lucky enough to meet one who doesn’t ask if you own a lawnmower or who knows your mom from bridge night with the girls, here’s a few things to keep in mind:

1. She is not a sugarmomma or meal ticket. Yeah, she might make more money than you, but she appreciates a guy that picks up the tab as much as she does. You wanna be wined and dined? Become an escort. You want your life paid for? Get a job.
2. She is not your mom. It’s not her job to clean up after you, keep your scheduled appointments or run errands for you. She probably has kids of her own; if she has time to realize you’re a kid yourself, it’s over. Because while men consider it a bragging right to hook up with their college-age daughter’s friends, women who are mentally stable won’t date their son’s friends.
3. Age jokes can be funny, as well as pointing out a wrinkle or gray hair, but if that’s all you have in your vault, lock it and shelve them. No need to remind a cougar that she is older than you by several generations unless you want to get rid of one. Women already don’t take the whole ‘growing old gracefully’ thing well. If you constantly throw it in their face, they will probably get rid of you. It’s cheaper than cosmetic surgery.
4. When you’re out together and someone mistakes her for your mom, man up and do something that says otherwise. Especially if that someone is a younger girl. Be creative and clever, but not vulgar. I promise, the reward will be worth the effort.
5. Don’t be that insecure bastard who can’t appreciate a woman smarter than him. She’s older, if she didn’t know more, you might as well be dating your high school sweetheart. You know, the chick that broke up with you to head out West to become an actress/model/dancer/whatever, only to come back a few years later to work at the local Dairy Queen because she didn’t have a back-up plan. Cougars are smart, self-assured women who have made their mistakes and are comfortable in their own bodies - they won’t put up with stupid shit or sweat the small stuff. Besides, isn’t it that knowledge that’s so appealing? Just think of her as a sexy librarian or the hot teacher you’re allowed to bone without getting in trouble.

I’m 37 years old and have dated younger men. It was my own brother who called me out as a cougar five years ago, giving me a complex that prompted me to re-evaluate my dating preference. I am not sex-starved, rich or looking for a boy toy. Men more than half my age serve no purpose other than to satisfy a need that can easily be met by a battery-operated boyfriend. There’s no need for a guy who can’t stimulate me other than in the bedroom. It’s the same with most women, even those who go through a phase where they are not looking for a relationship, just some fun. It’s these women who, no doubt, set the stereotype for the rest of us.

So, where can you meet an older woman? Ha ha, relax, stud. If she’s a cougar, she’ll find you. Rawr.

Happy Feet: A pedicure story

Pedicures are an unnecessary luxury I thought I would never waste my time or money on. I don’t like people touching my feet, much less massaging them and giving them facials. It just seemed pointless to pamper a part of my body most people will never pay attention to or see – unless they have a fetish or check out my shoes. Why should I get a pedicure?

Because I have ugly feet.

It didn't matter to me as I could mask the imperfections with lotion and polish. It worked until a few weeks ago, when I received a gift basket (from my boyfriend) with foot spa stuff which included a stone, scrubby-thingy on a paddle. I’m honestly not sure if it was a hint, but I decided to treat myself to a 'do it yourself' pedicure. How hard could it be? Turns out, it's pretty hard if you don't know what you're doing. I ended up making my foot situation even worse – rendering me to require professional help.

Enter Salon Nails in the food court of the mall: a very ghetto-posh, Asian run, mini-spa that can take care of all your grooming needs from brow shaping to nails and feet. It was there I was introduced to Jason*. Jason is a talented nail and foot technician and a man of few words – in English. However, he took one look at my feet, one at my face, and again at my feet and shook his head.

“You a pretty girl, but you feet is all jacked up.”

I know this, Jason, that’s why I’m here.

“I do my best. You have boyfriend?”

Why yes, I do. *blush*

“How you boyfriend still around wit you feet like dat?”

Jason has a sense of humor, not unlike Dat Phan from Last Comic Standing. It's good that I can laugh at myself.

“Alright, what spa-pedicure package would you like?”

There were three different pedicure packages priced as follows:

$20 – for pretty feet that just want to be cleaned up.

$25 – for feet that might need more attention.

$35 – for my feet. This was the all-out, exfoliating, skin softening, toe-nail clipping and filing, total feet reconstruction package.


After looking at the price list, and mentally calculating available funds, I asked for the $20 treatment. Jason, who had been examining my feet to survey the extent of work that would be needed, looked up at me over the rim of his reading glasses while rolling up my pant legs and placing my feet in the spa water.

“You sure ‘bout dat? You have all dis hard skin and cuticle that need to come off. The 20 dollar package only inlcude basic wash, trim and polish. I thought you want you feet fixed.”

Okay … then the $25.

Jason raised his eyebrows.

Alright, fine, the $35 package. You better make my feet look like foot models, Jason.

“Good choice, now maybe you have chance to keep boyfriend.”

He’s a funny guy.

Jason proceeded to apply some kind of spa stuff to my feet, one at a time and scrubbed them until it tickled and I had to jerk my feet away from him. Then he produced a utensil that looked to be a cross between a spoon, a bottle opener and a cheese grater – and went after the calloused skin on the bottom of my feet. Get it, Jason! This probably took the longest and included periodic glances up at me so he could give me the “this is what happen when you not take care of you feet” look. When he was done skinning my feet, he masked my legs, soaked my feet in hot wax and then painted my toenails red.

“It’s a pretty color, you boyfriend like.”

I’m not going to lie, my feet looked amazing when Jason finished his artful restoration of skin and toenails. They were smooth and shiny and soft and pink and – I was wondering if they did full body treatments. Jason seemed impressed with his own work. He even smiled at me.

Then it was like something occurred to Jason.

“Let me see you finger nails.”

I didn’t want to, I could tell I wasn’t going to get out of there without getting a manicure.

“Tsk. Come sit in chair, I give you full set, 19 dollar.”

But I don’t really want long nails, I have to typ-

“You gonna lose you boyfriend if you not take care of you hand and feet. I do manicure free wit full set.”

How can I argue with free. According to Jason, men like well groomed women and even though I clean up well, the day to day of being me doesn’t include a lot of time to make sure I look like a model. Maybe with fancy feet and nails, I can at least look like I put in more of an effort than I actually do.

So, I let Jason give me porn star nails at a working class length. When I left the salon two hours after I got there, I had perfect hands and feet. My hair and eyebrows were pretty jacked, but those would have to wait for another day. Although I love the superficial upgrades to my extremities, I am not sure I can affored the rdent in my bank account on a regular.

*name changed, however I am sure his name wasn't Jason when he entered the United States.

Don't go changing because of one constellation ....

So, it's all over the news and the Internet: there's a new zodiac sign and it's

reassigning everyone else's sign as it makes room for itself on the zodiac wheel. If you were a Virgo before, you might now be a Leo according to the 'new zodiac' dates. Some people are in an uproar, others are in denial and a few even seem to have realized their true identity as they never felt like the sign they were born under. Does it matter? In the larger scope of things, probably not. But to a lot of people who have tatted their zodiac emblem on their bodies, it's kind of a big deal.

What is this new sign?

Ophiuchus. From November 29 to December 17, the sun briefly enters this constellation. In Greek mythology, Ophiuchus is thought to be a healer and the son of Apollo who became so skilled that he could bring the dead back to life. Hades became so angry that he convinced Zeus to kill Ophiucus with a lightening bolt and he was placed in the stars as a constellation. Another story is Ophiuchus is Imhotep, Egypt's first architect, engineer and physician as well as the high priest to the sun god Ra. This is the sign of the healer and also called Serpentarius.

Is this really a new sign?

No. Ophiuchus has been around for a long time, but it has been blended in with Scorpio. The way the sky is divided up, Virgo is actually a large constellation, but in astrology everything is placed in 30 degrees of 12. There is no need for a 13th sign and those dates are not the dates that are used by Tropical astrologers.

What does this mean to you?

Depends on whether you are having an identity crisis and are looking to place the blame on something ridiculous or have a permanent shrine to your sign tatted on your body. Most people use astrology as an ice-breaker and not as a definition of their character or to map their day to day activities and life decisions. We would hope.

Why now?

Who knows? When the world gets boring, someone has to make a big deal about something, why not throw a wrench into the zodiac system and incite mass panic in the astrological community and people in general? Maybe Sidereal astrology wants to have a shot at the popularity that Tropical astrology has enjoyed for thousands of years. Or the war in the Middle East is no longer exciting news, so let's jack up the zodiac for the planet and see what happens.

What can I do? Do I change my sign?

It's not like you're moving from one house to another ... well, astrologically speaking you would be, but it depends on how you feel about your current sign and how much influence all this has on your life. I have a feeling this will pass and you will not find Ophiuchus/Serpentarius in Cosmo's yearly Horoscope Sex-tacular issue. In the long run you are still who you were before this new sign was introduced, seemingly out of nowhere. Think about how many astrology books are out on the market by noted professionals in that field. If they thought it was a big deal, the sign would have been incorporated on it's own a long time ago.

According to StarJack, as quoted in a blog for the Washington Post:

"The stars are markers that drift, but our main points of reference are not directly the stars. They are the equinoxes (both spring and vernal) and the solstices which altogether make the four cardinal points of the zodiac which in turn determine the signs. The stars help us locate those points which define the SIGNS of the Zodiac which remain constant in relation to the equinox point. The CONSTELLATIONS do move about and we take that into consideration when locating planets."

Closing thoughts:

I heard this news on the radio the other morning and it shocked my daughter to think that she would no longer be a Capricorn. She's 13 and this is an acceptable reaction for a 13 year old. My reaction was surprise that this was actually news and that it was affecting adults to the point they were distraught over having to rearrange their lives according to a new zodiac sign. Some people embraced their new sign. It was like finding out they were adopted and found their birth parents. Others stubbornly refused to change their sign at all, staying loyal.

There have been articles as far back as 2007 talking about the 13th sign and how it's not recognized in mainstream astrology. So, folks, if you have defined your life or based your decisions on your zodiac sign, nothing has changed. If you're reading this and have no clue what I'm talking about, kudos for having a life.

In case you don't know the star chart, here's what constellation your sign fell under 2,000 years ago:

Aries: March 21 - April 19

Taurus: April 20 - May 20

Gemini: May 21 - June 20

Cancer: June 21 - July 22

Leo: July 23 - August 22

Virgo: August 23 - September 22

Libra: September 23 - October 22

Scorpio: October 23 - November 21

Sagittarius: November 22 - December 21

Capricorn: December 22 - January 19

Aquarius: January 20 - February 18

Pisces: February 19 - March 20

So, don't go changing because of one constellation ....

All Ho's Eve

It’s fast approaching one of the most popular ‘holidays’ of the year: All Ho’s Eve – I mean, All Hallows Eve … or Halloween. As a kid, I remember dressing up on Halloween and going door to door to ask stranger neighbors for candy without getting in trouble. As an adult, I see Halloween from a different perspective. It’s not about trick or treating for cavities, scary movies and haunted houses. Now, it’s all about exhibitionism and boy do people love to put what they have – be it just enough, not enough or too much – on display.

See, Halloween is like a free pass for chicks to wear the Frederick’s of Hollywood version of their fave Disney princess, superheroine, uniformed occupation or generic hottie in public and not get arrested for hooking. And every guy looks forward to getting to see that much ass without having to pay for it. It’s like a skinfest of sexy Snow Whites, Wonder Womans, nurses, cops and anything else chicks can simplify into a pair of boy-shorts, a bra, angel wings and hooker heels. In other words, every city in America becomes the Red Light District of Amsterdam.

Why do ladies like to show off their goodies so much? Because they have them, they know boys like to see them and they like the attention. If Ms. SeXXXy Cop tells you she doesn’t like being gawked at like a brand new BMW in a used car lot, she’s lying as sure as she’s shaking her barely covered ass while stumbling in front of hot guys in those shiny, black, platform hooker boots. Seriously, take a moment to watch the cameras come out as groups of costumed chicks position themselves in highly visible areas of the club and do “sexy, kissy-faced poses” that they can all, “post on my Facebook!!!” Halloween is pretty serious business for gals on the prowl, attention starved chicks and THAT girl.

That girl is me. The one girl dressed up in a costume she doesn’t quite look like she belongs in but making a gallant effort to sell ‘the look.’ I found that my once trusty, traditional length Dorothy costume was outdated and so I upgraded to my very own slutty outfit: the Sexy Pirate Wench. It would have worked great if I had been a few inches taller, sported a fuller, bigger bustline and was able to afford the $40 buccaneer hat and $60 pirate boots. After that year, I decided to go even sluttier and invested in the XXX version of my fave Disney princess, Snow White. It was so much of a hit that this year I think I will go full whore, but I guarantee I will pull that off as badly as the pirate wench and Snow White.

I’m not saying guys don’t show skin, but typically they are not as much fun to look at when you consider they mostly dress for comfort, humor and the ability to geek it out once a year and keep their social status card. Some dudes will find something they know the ladies will want to see like the hottie Dr. McDreamy, maybe a Spartan or some other costume made to show off chiseled abs whether they have them or not. The trick is to find the triple threat: something they can easily double fist alcohol in, still look like they made an effort and functions as an ice-breaker in talking to chicks.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not judging. As a matter of fact, I look forward to all the people watching and the opportunity for me to partake in the skin-tastic festivities wearing my own barely-there version of some popular character while documenting all of it with my camera. Speaking of popular characters, out of curiosity, I looked up what costumes would be hot this year and this is what Google tells me:

Lady Gaga: it’s true, the pop phenomenon has licensed her low cut, blue unitard and matching gloves so that you can be Lady Gaga for an evening. There will no doubt be at least one guy dressed as the Lady G in a bid to win a costume contest.

Snooki: because every chick wants to be Snooki! She’s little, she’s outspoken and now she’s a Halloween costume. How fitting.

LeBron James: yeah, can’t figure this one out.

Iron Man: some comic book nerd will definitely geek it up as the metallic hero version of Tony Stark. You know he’s a nerd because the Iron Man costume doesn’t show enough skin or muscle to be a chick attraction.

Black Widow: c’mon, what girl didn’t envision herself in that uber-tight, black leather, cellulite whipping and shaping costume that Scarlett Johansson filled out so nicely?

Twilight’s Edward and Bella: if you’re married and the wife likes the series, guess what you guys are doing as a couple? Hey, last year it was shirtless Harry and sexy Hermione – not that it wasn’t weird to see characters from a kid’s movie turn so … adult.

Michael Jackson: always a hit for 80s parties and Halloween. The white-gloved mega-star lives on after his death in the hearts, iPods and as a staple at Halloween parties everywhere for one night a year.

Rounding out the top costumes for this year will be Spartans, vampires and werewolves (thank you again, Twilight), angels, witches, doctors, DC and Marvel heroes, cheerleaders and princesses. I honestly don’t know how we chicks wear the little that we do on Halloween and not freeze our buns off, but dudes better be grateful.

Boo, y’all.


Mutilating the 80s

Rainbow Brite LARP group visits your town on 80s nite

While perusing photos on Facebook one morning, I noticed a photo of a group of young people dressed up like the cast from the cartoon “Rainbow Brite.” Their outfits were so colorful, tight, layered and loud in their proclamation of the era they were advertising: the 80s. Shorts over colored tights, fishnet gloves, a Kiss t-shirt, guitar shades and chem.-light necklaces, it looked like a regurgitation of everything rejected from the Madonna era. These kids, who were all probably just coming out of their moms’ wombs in the 80s, thought they had the style and attitude down. Truth was, they were giving everything good about the era my generation grew up in ‘a bad name’ (thank you Bon Jovi). But to be fair, it’s not really their fault. Hollywood is resurrecting the 80s by storm in movies and in television.

I blame anthology shows like “I Love The 80s” for showcasing the most ridiculous and bizarre talking points about a decade marked by the emergence of gold chains, big hair, slouchy sweaters and socks, hip hop, rap, R&B, and just about all the best chick flicks ever made. Two mega-music stars of the 80s seem to define the over-the-top fashion explosion of the era: Madonna and Michael Jackson. Of course, the rest of the celebrity population followed suit with outrageous fashion statements based on a chick who looked like a cheap version of every man’s fantasy in lace (whose style, I might add, became a selling point for exotic dance acts over the years) and a dude who wore one white glove and introduced us all to the Jeri Curl. God bless them both, but normal people didn’t dress like that on a daily.

Now, 30 years later, a new generation of 20-somethings have adopted the neon colors, lace, excessive rubberized accessories and even the music and movies as their own. Stone washed, waist high jeans cinched at the ankles, slouch socks (which the Hooters franchise has brought back – holla), Members Only jackets, underwear worn as outerwear and jelly bracelets were brought back out of hiding. Why? Because these new kids decided it’s fun to take an era and not only put their own spin on it, but say they know and love everything about the 80s from watching TVLand re-runs, Google and Wikipedia. What they don’t realize is the rest of us who actually lived it are shaking out heads as we laugh our asses off. It’s borderline insulting to those who were there.

For starters, unless anyone was a performer, cross-dresser or it was Halloween, we didn’t wear rock star wigs to go to a club. We preferred Aqua Net and Clairol color as it was all about being natural. It was lace for the ladies and fishnets for the gents but only if you were in a band, a naughty situation in a private room or working on Skin Street. All our clothes matched and seldom did any of us wear shorts over leggings unless it was spirit day at our high school. Those movies from the 80s that every generation loves to quote are the stories that inspired the population of our decade much like the graduation songs brought to the 90s by Boyz II Men and Bel Biv Devoe

What’s more is that we 80s folks have learned to progress with , fondly bringing it out in moderation and in small, acceptable, classy doses. Mostly to make fun of the same things VH1 and MTV have hired a mix of too-young-to-know and authentic 80s celebrity experts to recount the antics and blunders of a generation that’s become a popular party theme. These youngsters want to live and breathe another place and time for a party or as a lifestyle choice, they can at least respect the true look and feel of the era and understand the decade was about more than great movies, fun music, bright colors, big hair, interesting fashion statements (that no one wants to revisit) and the birth of a generation of 80s wannabes.

It was the start of the computer age, video games, beepers, introduction of the Post-It note by 3M, invention of the cellular phone and fashion misses like floppy shirts, white stilettos (thank you Valley Girls) and shoulder pads. MTV brought us the music video, Teen Beat Magazine turns moms (and dads) into pedophilic voyeurs of such underage sensations as Alyssa Milano, Scott Baio and Michael J. Fox (and will continue to do so throughout each new decade. Menudo was replaced by the New Kids on the Block as the new boyband sensation because they had the “Right Stuff.” Boy George. Jane Fonda teaches women about fitness through aerobic exercise while Suzanne Somers introduced lazy women who didn’t want to get up and move to the Thigh Master. This was also the decade that saw the end of the Cold War through the collapse of the Berlin Wall.

Does it really bother me to see the 80s mutilated by those who haven’t lived it? Probably not … maybe a little … no, I guess not. However, it gives me something to knock the new generation of wannabes about. It is kind of neat that the identifying pop culture points of the era are being celebrated three decades after it wasn’t really all that cool the first time around. A great example of the parody is Dirt Nasty’s “Like It Was 1980.” Simon Rex, who was there, wraps up the 80s in a four minute tune about the fashion, fame, sex and drug phenom of the decade.

So, for all the 20-somethings still with me, have a little respect for an era you really weren’t part of – even if you were born in it. You own the 90s. Just like my parents told me about things I didn’t understand growing up: one day, when your kids decide to rape everything you liked about youth and adolescence, you will pick up what I’m putting down.



Dirt Nasty delivers an account on what's become the most popular decade to emulate.

Wax on ... Wax o - OUCH!

As a woman, there are certain things we don’t want: cellulite, wrinkles, small breasts and unsightly, unwanted hair. We will try anything – ANYTHING - to fix any of those problems (all of which I have by the way). Money is no object. Except for me.


I’m a self-employed, single mom, so spending cash on boobs, laser treatments or having my skin peeled back on my face is not in my budget. But waxing my nether regions, while still costing a pretty penny, is within reach of my bank account. Who doesn’t want their vagina to look like a porn star’s? I, for one, don’t much like having a 5 o’clock shadow down there. And shaving only keeps it smooth for, like, a few hours or until you get goosebumps once. How cool would it be to have the shaved look last longer? I was always looking for a better, longer lasting solution to body hair.



Back in junior high school, I learned that if you pull hair out by the root, it will grow back finer. If you do it often, eventually the hair will grow back less and less – each treatment lasting four weeks. That was what the infomercial for the Epilady said. For those of you who don’t know what an Epilady is, it’s a medieval torture device disguised as a miracle hair removal tool that anyone can use with little to no pain. It’s a Norelco shaver-like thing with a rotating coil that grabs hair and pulls as it turns, pulling the hair out in bunches. I used it for the approximate time it took to catch one clump of hair, scream, try to disentangle the hair from the device and then beg the good Lord to please make it stop and if he did I would never, ever do anything bad again. That was just one strip on my leg!



So the pain of having my hair yanked from my body was pretty distant and I was ready to try something new – the Brazilian Wax. I wanted a pretty girl part and this seemed like the perfect way to get one. I made my appointment a week ago. I was afraid the hair wouldn’t grow in enough by the time my appointment came around, but I shouldn’t have worried - Italian hair is superhuman and in another week, I would have sported a full bush. I showed up at my appointment ready and with enough to grab.



OUCH!



For anyone thinking about doing this, be prepared to show yourself to another human the way you may have only shown yourself to your boyfriend, husband or gynecologist. This is a 'front to back' procedure. You also need to know it’s gonna hurt pretty bad the first time. But if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t scream at all. Nope. My entire being did, however, want to punch itself in the face briefly. After the initial sting, that feeling passes and it's like plucking your own really hairy, sensitive eyebrows. It's also client participation: meaning, you will be asked to help hold the skin taut. Having something else to do besides anticipate the pain does help. I heard that in some cases, if they don't get all the hair, the tweezers come out to grab the strays that survived the deforestation. Not where I went. The results last from three to six weeks regardless of whether you're a hairy monster or not. Deal.



It was over quick enough, though, and my va-jay-jay was so pretty and smooth, I could give Jenna Jameson a run for her cash. And aside from a little numbness, it didn’t hurt after it was all over. Would I do it again? Bank account permitting - yes. Would I recommend it to anyone else? Absolutely. It's one of those little things that make you feel instantly prettier and girlier for a fraction of the cost of laser treatments - like a wonderbra to small boobs.

Cellular Children

I recently ran across an opinion piece about kids having cellular phones. It caught my attention because my own pre-teen has one. It said that cell phones are just another way for parents to monitor their children when they are not around. How, ‘back in the day,’ all our parents had were the proverbial village that consisted of neighbors, coaches, teachers and other parents to help take care of our kids. Handing a child a cell phone is like attaching a GPS to their pockets and possibly opening up a world of trouble via media exposure. It goes on to say how much more trouble a parent is allowing their children to get into by handing them a cell phone.



Well, hand your kid a television remote and access to a computer with Internet and you will surely be sending them straight to hell. And kids are kidnapped everyday by members of that proverbial village that parents might rely on. While I agree there can be problems with kids having cell phones, I feel a lot safer knowing my daughter has a mobile device capable of possibly helping her in an emergency. For most parents, it’s not about nosing into their kids' business. It’s about being able to have comfort in knowing their children are safe.



When I was 16 years old, I remember going to the mall with my brother, his friend and a girlfriend of mine. My brother and his friend went one way, my friend and I went the other. My girlfriend and I ran into these two older guys and they convinced us to go to a movie with them. In a taxi. After the movie, they taxied us to Pizza Hut before I convinced them to take us home. I didn’t have any quarters for a payphone or I would have called my dad. They eventually dropped us off at my house where my parents and hers were furious at us for being so reckless and stupid. It was totally our fault and, in hindsight, that situation could have gone wrong in so many ways. Someone was definitely looking out for us. If I had a cell phone, I would have called my parents. If I had had sense at the time, that would never have happened.



One point the author of the article was trying to make was that we don’t need to monitor our children. That they should be allowed to make their own mistakes and learn from them on their own. True enough. But with the technology available to give your kids a way to call for help if they need it, why not use it?



As for cell phones opening up a world of trouble to our kids … they will find trouble with or without it. This is where communicating with your children and explaining things to them comes in. That’s right, actually talking to our kids instead of being involved in our daily TiVo marathons and Facebook updates that are between dinner, homework and bed. You give them the knowledge they need to have to make good decisions. Tell your daughters that texting boys her goodies will eventually lead to social suicide. Let your sons know that sharing said texts of underage girls could get them in serious trouble. Talk to your kids about sexting, bullying and any other trouble that’s out there.



I’m not saying every grade-schooler should have a cell phone. It’s up to the parent and depends on the situation. My parents didn’t buy me a phone, but that was before cell phones were affordable and available. Times have evolved technologically. When I decided to buy my daughter a phone it was hard to hand over such an enabling piece of technology to a 12 year old. But I talked to her about it and explained that there were consequences to certain actions. Surprisingly, I haven’t had an issue with her and her phone yet, but the teen years are coming. It's a personal decision for every parent whether they want their children to own a cell phone. With that decision, it's also the responsibility of the parent to make sure the privilege isn't being abused.