This one’s for the ladies and also gay men with excellent taste: Thoughts from the Suburban Jungle about Jon Hamm’s Penis.
Yes, after all the shares and comments on FB yesterday … I realized this is the question on everyone’s lips: Can Jon Hamm’s penissave the world? (Which in some way means Jon Hamm’s penis is on everyone’s lips and that’s kinda gross, Jon Hamm!) So, I made this for you guys, also, I was really bored and happened to be wearing full make at the time…
(On a side note it was reported recently that during season six of Mad Men according to the New York Daily News, AMC had to ask Hamm to wear underwear because “This season takes place in the 1960s, where the pants are very tight and leave little to the imagination.” The source also said”Jon’s impressive anatomy is so distracting that they politely insisted on underwear.” The AMC insider also said they had to Photoshop in seasons one and two to cover up Hamm’s distracting bulge.)
Well, I guess I was on to something when I made this video.
ENJOY – XO JENNY
I couldn’t find his penis anywhere in this picture, which was not for a lack of trying.
Nearly a decade ago, I moved to the suburbs from NYC (it’s the sole reason I started my blog). In that time I’ve learned some pretty important things to ensure my survival, nay, my sanity.
If my ‘burb sent out a handbook it would look something like this. Feel free to use it as a mini-survival guide. Good luck and in the words of that guy on Hill Street Blues, ‘Hey, let’s be careful out there.’
All children must be signed up for multiple sports and extracurricular activities, to ensure that no family can plan anything on a Saturday until their kids are too old to want to spend Saturday’s with their family.
Do NOT be alarmed if you try to enter the wrong minivan or SUV, this is common. Try to lessen the confusion by putting fun stickers on your back windshield representing each of your children performing their favorite activity.
You can paint your house one of 477 shades of tan. Other colors will be categorically denied, so don’t even try it!
If your child has strep or hand foot and mouth, be aware that the entire town will know about it before you get his/her prescription filled. PS this same urgency in passing news applies to affairs as well!
As a suburban mom you are expected to start some kind of craft business immediately. Your choices are: hair accessories, jewelry, embellished clothing, or things you can print on card stock — anything else must be cleared through the Chamber of Commerce.
If you already have a job, you are expected to purchase these crafted goods, in bulk, at the myriad of local holiday boutiques that celebrate everything from Ramadan to Flag Day. Like PTA meetings, being absent is frowned upon.
If you do not find a grocery store or Starbucks within one mile of your current position, you’re lost and have entered an inferior neighborhood! Please stay calm and return to your suburb immediately.
You are required to join a gym. There, you must take spin classes with disco lighting, pretzel yourself into a reformer, and learn the art-form that is Zumba.
You will be expected to pressure clean anything and everything from your sidewalk to your dog. Be prepared.
Make sure your dog is cute, as neighbors will constantly stop to pet it. Be warned, the same neighbors will turn you in to the association the first time Rufus barks after 9PM. (Don’t name your dog Rufus)
Make an immediate trip to lululemon/Athetica/GapBody/Target … and pick up workout/athletic/golf/tennis gear that’s trendier than simply wearing sweatpants. Wear these goods at least 50 -100% of the time; in the winter, simply wear your athletic gear with Uggs.
You will need to attend a mind-numbing amount of birthday lunches/dinners for ladies turning anywhere from 30-50. Get there early, as who you sit next to (or don’t sit next to) can make or break your day.
Cut back on sex ASAP, as you will find yourself in conversations where moms discuss their infrequent, and unsatisfying sex life regularly — at lunches, parties, dinners, play-dates.
And stop giving blow-jobs! People in the ‘burbs are only expected to give them on birthdays and anniversaries (it’s one of the perks).
Living in the ‘burbs is a little like reading Us Weekly: Everything is sensationalized. It’s fun to discuss “who wore it best,” but not as much fun as playing Fashion Police. You will find yourself looking for cellulite/wrinkles on young skinny moms. And gossip is treated as gospel.
I hope this helps you fit into the suburban life you’ve chosen. Maybe I’ll see you at the next boutique sale — I’ll be selling picture frames with random findings glued on to them!
How many moms are stuck in the “Mom Uniform” rut: Grabbing the first pair of comfy sweats/jeans, throwing on a quickie tank/sweater, tying your hair in a pony, slapping on a little gloss, and darting out the door?
The answer: Too many.
Which is why I’ve made a conscious effort NOT to fall into that “mom trap.” OK I’ll admit, I have donned workout wear simply to get out the door when I had no intention of coming within 100 yards of a gym or treadmill. I’m only slightly ashamed of that trick, as I feel it makes me seem motivated, gives me an excuse for not putting together a trendy outfit, and I look a hell of a lot better than I would if I’d actually worked up a sweat! We’ll call it workout glam!
Listen, I’ve given up many things since becoming a mom: perky boobs, solo trips to the restroom, an enormous amount of hair (I had no idea how much hair I would lose after pregnancies) … but the one thing I refuse to give up is being glam.
If that means my stilettos dig deeper and deeper into that weird rubber mulch you find at new playgrounds, so be it. I don’t care if someone has to siphon me out of that veritable quicksand, that little bit of glam is all I have left!
This week, on my show, I get to be the expert! Yes, I impart some of my favorite tips to get a little extra glam (don’t worry, no stilettos are involved). I simply tell you how to enhance your look and glam yourself up, whether you’re “snack mom” at a soccer game or you’re spending Saturday night out with the hubs.
I’ve listed my absolute favorite products below to coincide with the video and my best tips. ENJOY! PS you’ll get to see all my phases of trying to emulate hair-styles of the celebs from “The Dorothy Hamill” to …
1. A girl’s best friend – “Chicken Cutlets” AKA boob enhancers. These are great whether you want to go up a size or fill in volume loss and sagging … plus they bounce baby! Takeouts silicone bra inserts ($48 Bare Necessities)
2. Loooooong lashes – Kim K is not the only one who likes the look of falsies! Lashes enhancing is a must. Yes, I’ve written out how to apply the fakes, but for a quick and easy “I’m a mom, I don’t have time to glue lashes on, ” fix — try Too Faced Better than False Lashes system ($35 Sephora). OK, you’ll need to make 3 passes, but the extra 15 seconds is worth it.
3. A good foundation is the key to many things (younger looking skin, included). My best secret EVER: Purchase the Temptu foundation ($25 Sears) that’s used for airbrush make up machines and apply it with a regular makeup brush or your fingers. It’s amazing because it’s meant to spread super thin via airbrush, plus it’s silicone based, which means it won’t clog pores, and lasts all day. You used to only be able to get it at professional makeup artist stores and sites, but now they’re selling it at Sear! Makeup and a power-drill in the same place, how convenient!
4. Accentuate the positives – a quick highlighter at the top of the cheekbone (like seen in the video) can help make you look more glowy and alert, even if you were up with the baby half the night! I love Moon Beam by Benefit ($26 Sephora)
5. Hair enhancements – EVERY celeb has these, whether it’s a clip on set of bangs, some strips of color, a braid to accentuate their whimsical side, or extra mane for length or volume. I loooove the clip-ins because they don’t damage your hair and they’re shockingly easy to do! I recommend the virgin human hair. I got mine at Aztig, Sheila (the owner) specializes in extensions. She can ship them to be matched and cut by your stylist of she can do a color match for you with photographs.
Last week, I wrote about having MABFs (Move-a-body-friends): peeps who would help you move a body, no questions asked. I learned some pretty interesting things while assessing where a couple of my “besties” really stood.
Me: Hey Susan, would you move a body for me … no questions asked?
Susan: Before I answer, is this something that will come back to bite me?
Me: Um, let’s hope not.
Susan: It depends on who. If it was Mark, I’d help you.
Either it’s human nature to assume it’s the hubby or my friends really don’t like Mark very much.
Susan: If it was someone random, I’d have to ask questions.
Me: Like?
Susan: Like, was it an accident? Was it self defense? Could we bring along another person?
Me: Why, you don’t think we could lift a body alone?
Susan: No, I wouldn’t want you to turn on ME!
Wow, I thought it went poorly with the last person I asked. Now, my college roommate who’s known me for like, ever, would want some protection?
Me: After 20 years, I’m thinking I should start branching out.
Both of us were laughing about her distrust in me and fear that I may murder her — hahahah, when this happened FOR REAL:
As she watched me cross the street to go to my car, a gust of wind blew my dress fully up to my ears. Stupid trapeze dresses! We’re talking full view of thong, with my hands full and no way to maneuver to hold it down, other than to completely bend over to place my stuff on the street, which I was NOT about to consider.
I stared at her from my frozen position, in utter shock that she wasn’t rushing to help, but rather standing on the curb laughing. Ahem, laughing doesn’t describe what she was doing — she was in such hysterics that she could barely breathe. “When you start choking over there, just know, I won’t give you CPR!”
I mean we JUST had a conversation about whether she would move a dead body for me?! I think this IS the definition of irony, no?
Still laughing, she came into the street and removed my computer from my arms.
Susan: What? I told you I’d move a body for you!
Me: Oh, I know where we stand. You’d help me move it, but if I tripped over it, you’d just point and laugh. Not cool Susan, if we had a “Best Friend” charm, I’d ask for your half back.
At a conference I attended earlier this year I heard the amazing Brene Brown, give a speech about, move-a-body-friends, (MABFs): People you could call in the middle of the night to come over and dispose of a body, no questions asked.
At first I thought, well, who of my friends has the right girth and strength to take on such a task? Next I thought, who will I have to “off” to test that my supposed “Move a Body” friends will follow through? Then it dawned on me, Brene was simply speaking metaphorically, and I put down the knife.
I didn’t stop there, I mean, I did put down the knife, but I thought I’d check with one of my besties to see if she would move a body for me, or at least share one of those “Best Friend” charms with me.
Me: Hey.
Possible MABF: Hi. What’s up
Me: I just wanted to see if you would move a body for me?
MABF: Wait, say that again?
Me: Would you move a body for me?
MABF: Move one, like in Desperate Housewives?
Me: Yep.
MABF: How did it die?
Me: Does that matter?
MABF: Well, did you kill it on purpose? Look, if it was Mark, I would do it, obviously, but other than that, I’d want to know if it was an accident.
How quickly we assume it’s the husband?
Me: Fine, let’s say it was on purpose? Let’s say Mark made that weird chewing sound he makes when he eats bagels, and I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I beat him with the cream cheese container.
MABF: Really, that’s your weapon of choice, cream cheese?
Me: I’m assuming it would be in the heat of the moment, and that would be the nearest thing.
MABF: Do you have any idea how long it would take to kill someone with a plastic container? I don’t know if this is a well thought out plan.
Me: I’m NOT MAKING A PLAN, I’m just assessing the level of our friendship!
MABF: Well, what condition is the body in; is it all mangled? I have a weak stomach, you know.
Me: I just told you I’d beat him with a cream cheese container, I don’t think mangling will be involved. Maybe some curdling, if we let him sit too long. I want you to know I’m starting to rethink our friendship.
MABF: Why do we have to move it? Couldn’t we just say it was self defense?
Me: Fine, but in that scenario you’d have to rough me up to make it look real.
MABF: Yeah, I could do that.
Me: I feel like you answered that so effortlessly and yet, the rest of this pow-wow isn’t going the way I’d hoped.
MABF: Look, I wouldn’t rule the whole disposal thing out, I’d just have to know a little more.
Me: Is that your way of saying you’d be up for the conversation?
MABF: Would it go like this, “Hey Tracey, what did you get at Saks yesterday? What are you making for dinner? What should I do with the body in my kitchen?”
Me: Yes … but frankly, I wouldn’t care what you’re making for dinner.
MABF: Then sure why not? Would you have extra bagels?
Me: Yep.
MABF: I’m in. So, what are you doing for breakfast, I’m hungry.
As it turns out, I do have an MABF; a meticulous, crafty one, who’s willing to beat me up, if necessary. I’m so lucky!
What crazy stuff have you done for your MABFs? I’m making a list for next week’s article.
I’ll start — I’ve jumped in a pool in a beautiful silk dress because an MABF jumped in at the end of her 40th birthday party in a fun attempt to reclaim youth or maybe she was just super drunk, but I thought she shouldn’t be in there celebrating alone.
Ohhh and a brilliant list: 20 Things Women Would Do for Their Besties (Mom Edition) – I think most of us would do these things and that’s why the fairer sex is AWESOME!!!
Sign up for updates from The Suburban Jungle and if you haven’t seen The Jenny Isenman Show yet – check out this week’s topic – Momnesia: Why are we so stupid, years after having children and how do we fix it?
This week we’re talking TRASH DAY (feel free to insert your own grievance).
We’ve lived in our home for about 9 years or 936 trash days. I know, most people prefer to count in years. Though, I think the British count in trash days or do they use the metric system? I’m not sure which. Anyway, we’ve had the same trash days (Mon. and Thurs.) every week.
Yet somehow, my husband forgot to take out the trash both days last week. Not just one day, which he’s usually good for, once every three weeks, I’m talking both! Frankly, I can’t wrap my head around it.
Forgetting trash day isn’t like forgetting to pick up toothpaste. One does not peek into the neighbor’s bathrooms to see if their tubes have run dry, nor do we all run out of Crest at the same time. HOWEVER, one does get a peek at the curbs of about 50 neighbors with large green plastic containers on the curb; and yep, our day is the same as everyone else’s.
Why doesn’t my husband notice the cans littering the street and turn back to set ours out when he’s mere feet from the house? I wonder. “There’s no conspiracy here honey, the neighbors aren’t putting out all their cans, simply to watch you turn around and put out ours, so they can snicker behind your back, “Dumbass, fell for it again! Hee hee hee, now let’s all go schlep our trashcans back into our garages,” high-fives all around!
“The garbage collectors are also not fucking with you, by changing up the days they will collect our junk. Nope, they have better things to do, like leaving the can in the direct path of my car, which often ends with me extracting it from the undercarriage and hoping it pops back into shape.” Those are the jokes they play, duh?
My husband’s standard response, “I forgot, and I didn’t notice all the other trashcans.” I get it, I’m no ogre, it was an honest mistake (made at a 1:6 ratio. Not that I’m counting), but he has like two weekly jobs around the house: trash and light bulbs.
Could you imagine if us moms just forgot 50% of our jobs any given week? Like, “Oops I forgot to feed the kids this week and seeing other people eat, or even eating myself didn’t remind me. But for the record, I also drove carpool this week and I got them to and from school everyday. Yep, I didn’t even miss one!”
So, this week, I won’t mention the trash once. Even though I noticed, just this morning, that there was a ton of recycling stuff in the regular bin – where it should NOT be. I also won’t breathe a word about all the stuff in the small cans in our office and bathrooms, which clearly weren’t emptied. No, I’m taking this experiment seriously. Zipped, are my lips.
On a side note, last week’s experiment went really crappy! I mentioned that my hubs parked in the farthest spot one time and noticed that he was too close to a car another time. I said, “Didn’t you read last week’s column about how much your parking annoys me!” To which he responded, “Yes, did YOU?”
Touché.
Is it just me or does your husband have trashcan blinders too?
Until recently I would have answered that question, “No way, playing games against anyone, men included, is innocent fun.” But now I’m not so sure. What happened? The other day, after scoring 72 points with Q-A-T-S (yes, it’s a word) while playing Words With Friends, I got a chat IM asking me to text a sexy picture of myself. WHAT?
Look, I haven’t been hit on in quite some time, but that’s flirting, right? Horrible, letchy, uninvited flirting. Couldn’t he have gone with “Nice word”? Seriously, I have a rule that word games should never make you feel like you need a shower.
Here’s the thing: many of us enjoy playing games on our smartphones and tablets. Okay, many of us are addicted to these games. We’re playing them with more than a handful of friends, as well as random Facebook connections we couldn’t pick out of a lineup. So, where’s the harm? They’re just games, right?
Or are they?
One time, after beating an old high school acquaintance at Scramble With Friends …
When I heard a man was caught on video stealing an iPhone from a baby, I had to ask, “Really? what kind of immoral thief are you?” And “where can I see that video?”
Listen, I find babies super cute, not in a “OMG, I need another one of those,” or a “Can I please hold your baby — random stranger?” kinda way. In a “That little bundle is seriously precious when he’s quiet or cooing, and looks even cuter through the window of this Starbucks,” kinda way. I also believe that no one can resist a baby dressed in a costume or using an adult item that’s been miniaturized, like wearing those mini Air Jordan’s or carrying a tiny briefcase.
So, when I heard a man had taken an iPhone from the hands of a sweet innocent child, I had to ask the obvious questions:
Was the child in a cute costume of any sort … perhaps wearing a tiny tuxedo?
Was the child about to clear a board on Angry Birds that he had never passed or was he possibly watching an episode of Phineas and Ferb on the Disney XD app and now he’ll never know if Candice tells her mother of the boys’ hijinks in time to catch them?
Was this some Robin Hood-esque act of justice, in which the thief took that phone to give to another baby who was needier — maybe one who had a first generation iPhone or dare I say, a Blackberry?!
Not knowing the answers to these questions will haunt me … will haunt us all. Worse, is the thought you may not have thunk, “How will this affect me?” When other crooks see how easy it is to take an iPhone from a baby, will they start adopting this practice as well? If so, does that mean I won’t be able to hand my child my iPhone/iPad/KindleFire/Nook in the hopes of taking a few minutes to peacefully assess my options in jewel-tone skinny jeans?
Will I not be able to wait patiently in line for my latte while my little one gleefully attempts to breed a rainbow dragon or learn random words in Spanish? Because that would beyond suck. Not just because those coffee lines are long and my kids get bored if they’re not stimulated for more than 30 seconds, but also because it’s really cute when they say things in other languages.
I’d like to suggest that we not let the lawbreakers win, and simply fasten these items to our children like pacifiers.
“Oh, you want that iPhone? Well, you’ll have to take the baby with it, and let me tell you she doesn’t sleep through the night and um, good luck breast feeding!”
“Um, no thanks ma’am you keep her.”
See, problem solved.
You’re welcome.
Of course, feel free to let me know if you have any better ideas …
As many of you know, I’ve been working on a new show for CafeMom!!! I am beyond excited (hence, 3 exclamation marks).
That said, below is the video and the top 10 reasons to watch this week’s PREMIER episode of THE JENNY ISENMAN SHOW, The Drinking Show, where we talk juicing, juice fasts, energy drinks, smoothies, and teas that are touted as “the next best thing,” but are they?
Top 10 reasons you should watch:
10. In 7 minutes we cover:
Why juice fast actually make you gain more weight.
Why you don’t have to down those 8 glasses anymore.
A good reason to justify your coffee addiction.
Why the blender you already own is better than the pricey juicer you want to buy.
9. My guests, Lyssie and Tammy Lakatos ( The Nutrition Twins ) are incredibly knowledgeable, but little and cute, like action figures … really smart action figures.
8. I reference old school Gen X faves, like Mad Dog 20/20, Boone’s and Peach Shnapp’s … don’t pretend like you never sipped them from a paper bag!
7. I have a hot barista, whose sole job is to whisper “Mommy Porn” inspired sweet nothings like: “Tonight I’ll do the dishes and fold all the laundry!”
6. You truly love and enjoy me and you want to support me!
5. You’ve been waiting for this show to come out as you only have a 7 minute attention span.
4. I embarrassingly, call one of my guests the wrong name, but to be fair, she called me Bill moments earlier, which was edited out, so I say we’re even.
3. Your cat will like you more if you watch.
2. We go way back and you know I will make you feel insanely guilty if you don’t watch (or at the very least pretend to watch) and respond.
1. Did I mention the barista is shirtless?
Thanks for watching!
PS – If you learned anything at all, please share, and like, and comment, and pass it on! If you learned nothing at all, please pretend you did! Then share, and like, and pass it on (you should probably skip the comment part).
Here are a few behind the scenes extras:
The barista who makes a shirtless appearance was inspired by a Ryan Gosling meme I created in my spare time. I know, what’s that, right? What spare time?
My favorite makeup tip is a highlighter at the top of your cheekbones it makes them really pop! I use Moonbeam by Benefit at Sephora. Put it right below your brow-line to make your brow pop!
I really wanted to ask if there is a drink for better more frequent sex that would stop me from crying “headache” 3 times a week. Though, I think I could take a guess: Vodka, the answer is vodka.
Yes, I called one of the twins the wrong name! In my defense, moments before she called me Frank (that incident was edited out), but I think that makes us totally even.
I DID drink MadDog 20/20 and Cisco, and Boone’s Strawberry Hill and Peach Schnapps and often straight from the bottle. If you’re 35 or older, you know you did too, so don’t try to deny it!
I know, that was a stupid question (and frankly, “stupid questions” are number 1 on my list of pet peeves), but at this point in my marriage, I’m thinking it’s possible that most things my hubby does falls into the “annoying” category, which probably makes living with me and absolute pleasure!
So, I’ve decided to take action, well action — in the form of an experiment. We’re all told, “You can’t change people, you just have to accept them,” unfortunately I can’t accept that advice anymore than I can accept my hubby’s, ahem, little ticks.
But maybe if we try not to sweat the small stuff slowly, you know, one small thing at a time, we can change our outlook?! That said, each week, I will TRY to accept a different (most likely NOT) Earth shattering annoyance, until I have accepted them all … or I’m too old to notice them anymore, whichever comes first.
I would love for you to do this with me!!! Because, like running a marathon, it helps to have someone to train with and complain with and stretch with. Though, no stretching will be required for this experiment, unless you want to stretch, I mean, it’s not prohibited either and if that’s what you need from me I say let’s do some toe touches.
For MY first week I will attempt not to complain about my husband’s parking for an entire week! This will be extremely hard, as my husband likes to take the first available spot upon entering any lot, which is usually also the farthest. He clearly didn’t read The Secret, which explained that you CAN get the best spot everyday, if you believe. I am a believer and frankly, I’m also lazy, and willing to circle endlessly, which ensures I ALWAYS get an impressive spot. In fact, I wish we all compared spots when we entered a mall or other establishment, so that I could show off my parking prowess!
To add to my hub’s penchant for picking bad spots he likes to park between cars when there are corner spots available (hello, only one side of your car is exposed to damage!), and he doesn’t know to park slightly closer to the nicer car or to car on his side!
He NEVER, well, only after my constant whining, reparks to straighten out the car (we’ll add my insistent whining to his list of pet peeves). We could be hanging off a curb or parked on a diagonal, and it just isn’t worth going into reverse, because apparently that’s a major chore.
Lastly, he doesn’t consider the fact that I’m usually in super high-heeled shoes and wedges! How is not thinking of my foot attire at time like that, or all the time for that matter?
By the time I enter a store I’m tired from having walked a mile. I’m possibly limping from having twisted an ankle and I’m most certainly hoarse from saying, “there’s a spot, look there’s a spot” while pulling in and continuing to point out ALL the spots we could’ve parked in as we walk through the lot.
So, I imagine my barking and bitching could also be on his list of peeves. Yes, I know, we seem perfect ladies, but we have little miniscule tiny barely noticeable flaws (we’re only human).
So, I will bite my tongue all week and see if I can let it go … and if letting it go makes us less bitter by the time we hit our destination, we call it a score. If not, I will of course, go back to complaining and pointing and whining, duh.
You can obviously pick your own peeve for this week and let me know what it is so I may use it in a column and of course, dedicate it to you!
Next week, be ready for (forgetting trash day)!
PS- Go check out my new show – The first episode it up!!!
Like with debacle that was Tom and Katie’s marriage, or the demise of any celeb union, for that matter, Danny Devito and Rhea Perlman’s split, directly impacted my chance at a lazy happy marriage, don’t act like it didn’t affect you!
Everyone remembers when Devito and Perlman got together right? I mean, I wasn’t born yet but I heard tales. Yep, just like Brad and Angie, it was a whirlwind — or something like that. Fine, I just know that they’re both short and funny and if short funny people can’t stay together… who can? Who can?
Ummm lesson learned. Do not marry someone as short or funny as you!
Listen, following the love lives of celebrities is like couples therapy … only cheaper. I think we’ve all learned some pretty amazing things for the price of a weekly gossip mag:
The Travolta’s taught me to avoid marrying arguably gay Scientologists, but if I must marry one, to now know that the house must be staffed with people who give happy endings and sign confidentiality agreements.
Brangelina justified me spending our entire life savings on a Chateau in France for my family to live in. That was the best week ever! Hey, do you think I can trade my food stamps for flying lessons?
I learned from TomKat that marriages with buyout clauses and auditors rarely work. Though sharing lipstick and Louboutins with your 4 year old is always a super awesome idea.
Posh and Becks made me see the need to conceive another child, with the sole purpose of naming it something totally random like, Stockbroker or Almondbutter or Miami.
R. Patz and K. Stew’s recent reconciliation taught me that the love of your life should totally take you back if you get caught on camera, making out with another man. Which is why I unexpectedly mounted a local anchorman in the middle of his “Live at 5” newscast (BTW they really don’t wear pants behind the desk!).
And yes, “DiRhea” once gave me the impetus to stick it out in the tough times to attain similar longevity.
Sure, their celebrity morph name wasn’t the sexiest, but it didn’t stop me from asking Mark during heated arguments, “What would DiRhea do?”
He rarely answered, but I like to think the mere inquiry got us through some tough times.
Now, with the news of DiRhea’s marital demise, I realize, there’s no finish line. You can never throw your hands in the air, run through the proverbial ribbon, and scream “We won! We lasted 3 decades, now we get to coast!”
No, on the contrary, it proves that we’re gonna have to work at this whole marriage thing for like, ever, which sucks because I’m pretty much phoning it in already. At this point my kids are numero uno and after a short list of important things, like our pets, success, and freshly folded laundry, comes my man.
So thank you DiRhea, because of you I’ll make my hubby a higher priority in my life. Well, within reason.
I mean, if Hollywood has taught us anything, it’s that when women get divorced, they find younger, hotter, more energetic men — with abs! Madonna, Halle, Demi, Katie C., Mariah, Susan S., Ellen B., you give hope to us all… mmmmmm abbbbs!
I thought I’d keep you guys posted as the Jenny Isenman show takes form. Yes, the promos do include dancing and Gen X references… both of which age the crap outta me.
Please take a sec to share with your friends and like or comment on the video. Frankly, I’m hoping to parlay “likes” into free shoes. Does it not work that way?
*Please note that I did not say Ricky Shroder would beat Rob Lowe in a hotness contest, that would be a totally amateur statement, I mean, duh, it’s not like we were pitting Leif Garret against Shawn Cassidy or Scott Baio against Kirk Cameron (those would be a toughies).
However, the power of editing is great. And now you know a fun behind the scenes fact, like on Pop Up Videos.
(If you don’t know what Pop Up Videos is, I must assume you’re young and wrinkleless and I’d be so jealous of your taut skin, well, either that or you’re Amish.)
Actually, the Ricky Shroder comment came from a confession about how I always wanted to take a ride on Ricky’s train and
maybe do a lap or two in his race car bed. Whoa, that sounded way more risque than I meant it. When I was wishing to ring Ricky’s bell (train bell, you sick people), I was barely a tween, though “tween” wasn’t a term then, and I was innocently wishing to do nothing more than hold the his hand.
OK, I wouldn’t have minded a little peck.
FINE, I probably would’ve let Ricky feel me up.
Whatever judgy people, he had freakin’ video games in his living room and a phone that looked like a mallard, you would’ve totally let him feel you up too!
PS if you missed the first promo, here you go (this is my favorite I think you’ll see why):
And definitely subscribe to the show or send me shoes, but one or the other.
I couldn’t find his penis anywhere in this picture, which was not for a lack of trying.
