DEPEND ON ME

I've been wasting an entire hour trying to come up with a first sentence far more polite than "WTF?" (Which, if my mother happens to be reading this, stands for What's This Fiasco?) Unfortunately, WTF? is the best I've got. Guess what baby-boomers? We are now the target market for Depend adult diapers. Now, let's not all poop our pants at the same time.

"You had to go there, didn't you?"

HEIDI ABROMOWITZ HAS LEFT THE BUILDING

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was 28 years old, practically wedged under the seat in front of me in the auditorium, my head between my legs, my hands covering my blazing hot face, my legs squeezed tightly together to contain my bladder. I glanced up at my poor husband, who could only respond with a look that said, "Help!" "Do you douche? Do you DOUCHE?? DO. YOU. DOUCHE??!!!" bellowed the small but imposing lady striding across the stage, pointing to random women in the front row, causing them to convulse and bury their own faces. I might have died that day...if one could actually die from laughter. I was at a Joan Rivers performance.

"I was dating a football player. He was so dumb. The man could not count to 21 unless he was naked." Joan Rivers

ICE, ICE MAYBE ...10 REASONS NOT TO TAKE THE ALS ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE

I don't know about you, but the only reason I'd deliberately  toss a bucket of ice water over my head is if I were in the midst of one of those hot flashes that make me feel as if my blood has been replaced by jalapeno peppers. For one thing, clean ice should not be wasted when it is better served chilling my rum and Coke. For another, self-induced hypothermia is not a good look on me. So, when it comes to the ALS Ice-Bucket challenge, pardon me if I give it the cold shoulder. In fact, below are my Top 10 reasons for rejecting this latest internet stunt. Pick the one that best suits you and use it daily!

SPANX FOR THE MEMORIES

Show of hands - how many of you have ever been squeezed to death by a boa constrictor? No one? Well, neither have I, but I think I know how it feels because I recently purchased my first pair of Spanx! For those who do not know, this is the brand name of spandex shape wear that work by sucking your entire mid section into a garment the diameter of a grapefruit. Some of you might wonder why I have resorted to purchasing a pair since I am the author of this little blog post. But, let's face it, some days, a gal just wants to get back to her pre-baby body. Particularly when that baby  is now 23 years old. So, I decided there would be no harm in owning a pair of Spanx for the occasional times when I'd prefer to look like this:

"Diet? Heavens no! I just have a high metabolism."

FACE OFF!

When it comes to Facebook, everyone has an opinion. Either it is a mind-numbing waste of time where the  low-brow among us share the minutia of the day-to-day, or it is a cozy gathering place where friends and family  keep one another company from the farthest corners of the world. It is a den of photos of inebriation and sexploitation, or it is a coffee table of albums of grandchildren and cats. It is the condescending, intolerant postulation of the know-everythings, or the thoughtful, provocative discussion of the earnest. Whatever the viewpoint, there is one thing all Facebook users have in common. We love to gripe about what other people post in THEIR statuses on THEIR pages. In other words, we have become this woman:

"Abner, they're posting duck faces and doing that vague-booking thing again!"

THIS DIVA'S 12 GRIPES OF CHRISTMAS

I hope that all of you who celebrate had yourselves a merry little Christmas, and made your Yuletide gay! Well, as gay as you can within the confines of  Leviticus. For the most part, mine was quite jolly. However, I have a few complaints and shall address them here. May I present to you "My 12 Gripes of Christmas?"

TALKIN' TURKEY WITH MARNEY!

It's that time of year again!  The much maligned Thanksiving Letter by Marney is making its festive away around the social networks. No one knows if Marney actually exists or if the letter is a well-constructed  ode to one of the most passive-aggressive fictional hostesses in history. Either way, it's a thing of a beauty because, though the letter is offensive on so many levels, anyone who has ever hosted a large family holiday can find, somewhere in all the obsessive-compulsive demands for NO MORE ALUMINUM FOIL, a glimmer of truth. In case you missed it, read the Marney Letter Right Here!