Our Lady of Perpetual Depression

The Loni Anderson Effect

So I’m on the phone with my father last night, and it is reiterated to me as it was throughout my childhood that the two most important things about a woman are her boobs and her cooking.

And so I turn to Jon, my darling husband, and I say, “It’s always the same with him, the boobs and the cooking, can you believe that?”

And Jon looks at me and says, “You know that’s crazy. There’s so much more to you than your boobs and your cooking.”

And I’m like, exactly!

And he says, “But, I really do like your boobs.”

And I say, “You really like my cooking too, right?”

And he says, “Of course. God, I love your cooking.”

And we both pause and think for a second, and then look at each other and say simultaneously, “Maybe it is about the boobs and the cooking.”

105 Comments
  • the propagandist

    2003/02/03 at 7:34 am

    oh god. my therapist is going to be able to buy a goddam lexus off my restaurant fetish if this is true…

  • Jen

    2003/02/03 at 7:35 am

    Dad’s are smart. It’s all about the boobs and cooking with my dad too.

  • Cindy

    2003/02/03 at 7:35 am

    Oh no no no

  • leandra

    2003/02/03 at 7:35 am

    If that’s all it is I’ll be married forever… I know one person who loves my healthy endowment of breasts and cooking skills. 🙂

  • the mighty jimbo

    2003/02/03 at 7:37 am

    boobs, cooking, and fart jokes too.

    jon is a lucky, lucky man.

  • otherjen

    2003/02/03 at 7:45 am

    I am also in luck if that is true, but I would agree that fart jokes should be added. Or at leasting farting.

  • Emeril Lagasse

    2003/02/03 at 8:05 am

    Bam! That’s going to be my new show on the Food Network. Bam!

  • Alex

    2003/02/03 at 8:10 am

    I neither cook nor do I have boobs (they’re Gwynethesque rather than Brittanyish)yet I’m married.

    My husband, however, is a fabulous cook and has a nice chest — so I guess ONE person in the relationship has to possess the boobage and the cooking skills or else it’ll all fall apart…

  • Desiree

    2003/02/03 at 8:13 am

    I love that simple archaic logic about sustenance (feeding your man & feeding your family). I think I am an average cook and I know I have nice but average breasts; my very cool and so far from being any kind of chauvenist husband also just confirmed that indeed it IS about boobs and cooking… not that either need to be spectacular or grand — it’s just enough that they “be”. 🙂

  • Naaman

    2003/02/03 at 8:18 am

    I can’t think of a single way to disprove that. I’m starting to think I’m a chauvinist.

    They should have a checkmark on the marriage license for that.

  • Lola

    2003/02/03 at 8:22 am

    Hmmmmm. Well. I’ve got the great boobs, and my husband has the mad cooking skills, so when you put us together we have the boobs and the cooking. So maybe that’s how it works…if you don’t have the boobs, but you have the kitchen thing down, then you better pick a man with fabulous pectorals. eh?

  • Danika

    2003/02/03 at 8:34 am

    Well I don’t cook.. and my boobs are probably average… I guess I’m in trouble.

  • Terry

    2003/02/03 at 8:40 am

    Who are we to argue with your father’s logic?

  • Caveman

    2003/02/03 at 8:42 am

    *gruntgrunt* boobs. food. boobs. food *grunt* football. food. boobs.

  • da

    2003/02/03 at 9:13 am

    it’s not just the boobs and the cooking, they have to be in the correct porportions. 90% cooking / 10% boobs probably wouldn’t cut it.

  • PJ

    2003/02/03 at 9:20 am

    Loni Anderson can cook?

  • clueless man

    2003/02/03 at 9:47 am

    Loni Anderson has boobs?

  • Titular Man

    2003/02/03 at 9:52 am

    I’ve got a vision:
    c(o)(o)king with d(o)(o)ce!

  • Heather #2

    2003/02/03 at 10:04 am

    (o)(o)

    Fucking hilarious! (Who thinks of this shit???)

    As for me, I’ve got boobs and I know how to cook, so I guess I don’t need the relationship part. Ah, fuck. Who the hell am I kidding. Yes I do! (Why can’t we grow penises like we grow herbs? I’d fucking be set.)

  • Funtime Ben

    2003/02/03 at 10:15 am

    “Who thinks of this shit???”

    The Japanese, they have keyboard equivalents for everything.

    (*^_^*)

  • Tremorr

    2003/02/03 at 10:15 am

    In one of his essay collections, David Sedaris (of NPR fame) describes a hilarious prank his sister (the actress Amy Sedaris from Strangers with Candy) played on their father who was of a similar mindset. Unnaturally obsessed with his daughers’ looks, father Sedaris was shocked one xmas season when Amy shows up with a GARGANTUAN ass. Unknown to him, she was wearing half of a fat suit. Hilarity ensues.

  • Alex

    2003/02/03 at 10:18 am

    Oh my god! I love that story. Here is the link for those who want to read it:
    http://www.esquire.com/humor/
    sedaris/articles/000301_mds_
    suit01_1.html

    If I were a gay man, my mission in life would be to make David Sedaris mine *sigh*

  • Tremorr

    2003/02/03 at 10:24 am

    Thanks for posting the link, Alex. David Sedaris rules, and his essay “A Plague of Tics” has made me much more tolerant of my marvelous-but-becoming-rather-peculiar 6 year old son.

  • anna jr.

    2003/02/03 at 10:28 am

    i wish i had smaller boobs.
    and that i was a better cook.

    although my cooking is good enough that i eat too much of it – thus contributing (by means of all over layer of padding) to the size of my aforementioned boobs.

    sigh.

  • Irk

    2003/02/03 at 10:32 am

    Hey, if you got it flaunt it. Preferably, flaunt both at the same time.

    And while we’re talking David Sedaris, one of my faves is “The Rooster” in which the glory of the Fuck It Bucket is revealed. “Just say fuck it, motherfucker, and have a piece of candy.”

  • Kat

    2003/02/03 at 10:38 am

    I’m not much of a cook, and my boobs are small (but nice and perky!) I guess that’s why I hooked up with my girlfriend, she of the great rack and excellent cooking skills. It IS all about the boobs and the cooking.

  • moonzi

    2003/02/03 at 10:55 am

    i suppose i should just join the convent now, then.

  • Meesha

    2003/02/03 at 11:03 am

    Hmmmm….so that’s why, after I slave over a hot stove to cook a delicious and nutritious dinner, my husband “thanks” me by rubbing my boobs.

    It’s really enhanced my understanding of his behavior to know that he’s not the only one.

  • Cody

    2003/02/03 at 11:20 am

    That would be *three* things, right? Boobs and cooking?

  • Tasha

    2003/02/03 at 11:22 am

    You know what, that makes a lot of sense. Since my boobs are 30% larger due to Depo, and I keep cooking in the communal kitchen…oh GOD! That’s why they’ve been hitting on me!

    I think I’m gonna go buy some more kitchen items and a boobs on display shirt. Right now.

  • Scott

    2003/02/03 at 11:45 am

    (oYo) I love boobs. Real ones. I can cook for myself.

  • Titular Man

    2003/02/03 at 11:51 am

    Scott’s right.
    (oYo) are better than (o)(o)
    if you know what I mean…

  • cat

    2003/02/03 at 11:55 am

    the two most important things? or the two most appreciated?
    the difference could mean a still-satisfied husband figure, when after 25 years, your boobage is hanging low and arthritis attacks your fingers.
    let us not be defined by the ephemeral, girls!

  • chuckles

    2003/02/03 at 12:00 pm

    I saw Loni once at a doctor’s office. She nearly ran me down in a hallway. On TV the boobs are fun, but they can also be used as weapons. As for “cooking,” I always thought that was a euphimism… my sinewy pan-flipping forearms notwithstanding…

  • Kristin

    2003/02/03 at 12:04 pm

    I always thought if you had nice boobs, someone else would cook for you…that’s why I missed out on all those Italian mom-aunt-grandma sessions in the kitchen when I was little. 😉

  • April

    2003/02/03 at 12:04 pm

    Good gawd. Why am I picturing Robin Williams’ boobs catching fire over a hot stove?

  • Kristin

    2003/02/03 at 12:06 pm

    Oops, that sounded like I was dissing my female family members…not so. I just meant I thought I was pretty set in the chest department!

  • Yahmdallah

    2003/02/03 at 12:07 pm

    If cooking and having boobs were all that mattered, Paul Prudhomme and Dom DeLuise would be everyone’s dream spouse. I think we’re overlooking brains and vaginas here. Not to mention beer, but real men can get their own damn beer.

  • Tian

    2003/02/03 at 12:21 pm

    what if the man is the cook….is it about the package and cooking?

  • Sheila

    2003/02/03 at 12:39 pm

    I’ve rarely seen brains & vaginas on the same menu. Especially after guys have comsumed said beer.

  • owen

    2003/02/03 at 1:02 pm

    your father may not be very wise but he has a point worth nothing.

  • Edsmonkey

    2003/02/03 at 1:08 pm

    *wonders if anyone can cool with their boobs*

  • edsmonkey

    2003/02/03 at 1:09 pm

    Er, cook I mean.

    Obviously I am typing with my boobs…..

  • owen

    2003/02/03 at 1:38 pm

    edsmonkey can’t cook

  • Summer

    2003/02/03 at 1:38 pm

    Allright, allright already. I’ve got the boobs, I’ve got the cooking thing… shit, I’ve even got the flat stomach… where’s the man in this equation already??? Any takers?

  • Summer

    2003/02/03 at 1:40 pm

    I guess I should also mention that fair’s fair and my guy should most definately NOT have boobs but it is ok if he can cook… there’s nothin’ sexier than that.

  • Tommy

    2003/02/03 at 2:08 pm

    it’s ALL about the boobs and the cooking.

  • Nikki

    2003/02/03 at 3:17 pm

    Damn, I have neither cooking skills or boobs. I’m screwed…

  • bucci

    2003/02/03 at 3:18 pm

    dooce, did you go back and add nipple shadow to the gobs of gigs or am i seeing things?

  • Cartoonist

    2003/02/03 at 4:09 pm

    My fiance’s boobs are like a dead heat in a zeppelin race. Which makes it hard for her to see what she is cooking. But the food still tasted great, she just gets to wear some of it as well.

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Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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