An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation
  • purdy!

  • Chicky Sue

    Happy Blog b-day. Great job Heather!
    My most embarrassing moment was when I was a teenager. I was making out with my boyfriend behind the school. His dork friends must have known, because they drove up, yelling “Police!” and shining flashlights on us. we started running away, half-dressed, and then his friends started laughing so we knew it was them. I was pretty mortified, I had to see those guys every day the rest of the school year.

  • It looks like your passing Stonehenge. Honest!

  • dooce, only you can make unemployment and motherhood look so so cool. i really should get myself pregnant and fired soon…

  • Misha, I am SO jealous (I feel your pain, Spoonleg)! Actually, they’re at the Pageant in St. Louis on March 15, so maybe I can go then… during MIDTERMS week?! NOOOOO!

    I have only 1 test today– an oral exam (bum chicka bow wow). Parlez-vous francais?

    And the picture is gorgeous of course, dooce. All your sky shots are amazing. But where’s Leta??? **sobs**

  • Just because it was Oscar night last night…
    How about a competition?
    “The dorkest embarracing story of the day award” goes to…

  • You guys aren’t lookin’ close enough at the picture. Leta *is* in the picture.
    She’s driving, duh!

  • beautiful.

    damn what time are you posting? is leta waking you up at all hours of the night?

  • dooce and dooceketeers,

    i’m a little behind (bad pun) but I’ve now contributed to the Butts for Butterflies campaign. click on “kalki” to see the butts.

    We want LETA! (although i must say I envy your great car shots – mine always suck)

  • southern fried girl

    My goodness, the Doocers get up early. Here I am impressed with myself for being to work on time at 8:30!!!

    Very pretty pic, by the way. I do agree that more Leta pics would be wonderful though.

  • MamaPajama

    The most embarassing moment? The entire Joan Rivers/Star Jones thing. Can we get someone new to do the red carpert? Joan’s patter is worn and stupid. Star is too gushy and why is Kathy Griffin there anyway?

  • AHHH more sky shots! Where is the dog balls and cute kids!

  • I see white people. They’re everywhere.

  • Happy Blog Birthday!

    Embarassing moment… One time while in NYC I was on my way to a Broadway show with my family. I apparently caught a stomach virus at some point. During our cab ride I started feeling worse and worse. Prssure was building up and my sphincter was boppin’ like Chubby Checker. The point of no return came upon me and I told the cab to pull over immeadiately. My parents gave me this funny look, but they could totally tell something was up by the look of terror in my eyes and the sweat on my brow. As soon as the cab stopped I bolted, as fast as a man who is ready to explode can, with my hand cupped over my ass for fear of something getting out. Now I don’t know if you have ever tried to find a public restroom in NYC within a minute or so, but it was no easy task. I finally made my way into a restaurant and did the cup hand sprint to the loo past a bunch of patrons and made it just in time. I’ll never forget the faces of the people I ran past while holding my ass. My family also got a great chuckle out of seeing me run desperately through the streets with one hand plastered over the exit like a gatekeeper.

  • thank you scott – that was pleasant. im glad you survived.

  • Susie

    Embarrassing near-miss: With my now-husband, then-boyfriend, got the romantic idea to “get romantic” on the floor of his parents’ living room in front of the fire, when everyone in the house is sleeping. We hear someone coming, er, approaching, and scramble to get an afghan over us, and pull all of our clothes in under the afghan. In walks elderly Auntie M, the sweetest, most innocent “spinster” auntie who ever lived. Auntie says, “You’re by the fire and have a blanket over you, aren’t you hot?” “No, Auntie M, we’re freezing, we just can’t get warm!” “My lands,” she says, “you must be getting a chill. I’ll get you some more blankets . . . ” and she goes through the whole downstairs, gathering afghans, throws, to warm our naughty naked asses. Each time she’d leave the room, we’d scrape in more of our discarded clothes to pull under the blankets so she didn’t catch on. Then she sat down in the rocker beside us and chatted for a while.

  • I posted a peeing on stage moment on the main page, but Scott’s story reminds me of all the times I’ve puked in public – in restaurants, in airplanes, while driving on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago at 50 mph. I’m getting really good at it. One time it was at a coffee shop downtown, and the workers there gave me a rag and told me to clean it up. I did of course – I wouldn’t want anyone else to have to do that, but it was ultra embarrassing.

  • One of my many most embarrassing moments also takes place in a classroom. I was in the twelfth grade, and I had literally the smallest set of boobs in the entire senior class. I begged my mother to let me have a boob job, but instead she went out and bought me these really nifty silicon inserts for my bra. These things actually looked like silicon implants, and once inserted into my bra, I had really perky, bouncy boobs. Nothing too obvious, though. Anyway, I was in seventh period Physics class learning about Kepler’s law and the conservation of angular momentum, or some such crap. My teacher asked a question, and for once I knew the answer, so I shot my arm up in the air to give my scholarly response. At this point, I felt something slipping inside my shirt. The next thing that happened was like one of those slow motion scenes from a movie. You could even hear my voice say “Oooooooooh Noooooooooo” in slow motion. Of course my right silicon breast came slipping out of my bra and landed right on the floor next to me. The really cute guy that sat next to me swiftly picked it up and tossed it in my lap. He did it so fast and furtively that I don’t think any of the bitchy girls with the big tits saw it, but my teacher certainly did. He went right on to teach about Kepler’s law while I sat there with an extremely red face. I never wore those plastic boobs again!!!

  • Kbbaw: Wow! That guy must have had a crush on you to be able to help you out of that moment with such sensitivity. What ever happened to that really cute guy?

  • Susie

    Oh, Katie, that was a tough one. But how sweet was that cute boy, to help you out like that, and not go throwing it around the room or some such?

  • Well, it’s no desk-moving fart, but…
    (Sorry, I’m too lazy to be redundant. But basically–yesterday’s underwear+bottom of jeans+subway=ohdeargod)

  • Susie

    Psycho-kitty, thank you, you’ve just given me my “I’m not impressed” phrase for the week:
    It’s no desk-moving fart.

  • becaru

    Geez, it’s a good thing Leta’s gonna turn 13 months this week, cuz otherwise we might never see her photo again.

    I’ll share my mom’s most embarrassing moment because it’s a classic. She was at a rehearsal dinner, wearing a long gown, (in the ’40’s mind you), and when someone proposed a toast to the bridal couple, everybody stood up to toast. My Mom’s dress, however, was tangled around the chair leg so instead of standing up she just flipped over backwards.

    I know if she were still alive she’d love your website and your irreverence, Dooce.

  • I don’t know what happened to that guy. I was so embarrassed by the whole boob incident that I could never face him again. Maybe at our tenth year reunion I will talk to him about it and get a few chuckles out of it. It still traumatizes me to this day! It’s true that most boys would start throwing the thing around the room or stick it in their pants or something. I was lucky, that’s for sure!

  • My embarrassing moment also includes school+desk. In seventh grade Geography class, the room of 20 students were quietly taking their tests. I was taking the test the same way I always took a test, with my eyes 3 inches from the paper. You’d think I needed glasses, but oh no, I just felt more comfortable close-up. All the sudden, without warning, the largest sneeze exited my body with such force that my forehead was slammed into my desk. The loudest smack sound caused alarm for my neighbors, who soon began laughing. For the rest of the day, I had a blood-red goose egg on my forehead.
    I’ve told this story many many times and still have not ever found anyone else on this earth that has had a sneezing accident. Could I be the only one?

  • SLC, the city of doom…

  • Beautiful sky shots you got there Heather. Keep it up!

  • The city looks so tiny from here… almost like an anthill…

    That steering wheel and dashboard however look HUGE…

  • Matt in London

    Hey – the steering wheeel is on the wrong side of the car 🙂

  • Embarrassing moment. This is sort of embarrassing by proxy, but when I was about twelve (and incredibly, horribly shy) and the breakdancing craze was in full swing, my father, who was and is still a cutting-edge trendsetter took a giant piece of linoleum and a giant boom box out to the patio for several weeks on end and taught himself to breakdance.

    Kids were lined up along my fence screaming “GO DAVE!! GO DAVE!! GO DAVE!! GO DAVE!! GO DAVE!!”

    I wanted to *die*.

    He was pretty good, though.

    Another one – when I was young and thin and had no ass I used to work as a runway model.

    I was about fifteen and doing a very chi-chi swanky show that involved these hideous expensive beaded gowns.

    I was extremely nervous and missed my mark at the end of the runway and consequently tripped on my heels, toppling off the runway and landing in some rich old broad’s lap. You could hear beads skittering far and wide.

    I started to bawl, because I thought I’d have to pay for the dress, and a giant booger shot onto the lady’s dress.

    All I could think of to say is “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, let me get that for you.”


  • Ew God, I just thought of one more. When I was sixteen I had this boyfriend who wanted me to give him a hickey. I had never done it and the only ones I had ever seen were on this chick in my English class that were HUGE and really dark purple, and I thought that’s what they were supposed to look like.

    Kids called me Hoover for a month.


  • Brandi R. — OMG, please forgive me, but that is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day… I nearly had my own “embarassing moment” when I had to stop myself from laughing out loud so the boss doesn’t catch on that I may or may not be doing actual work right now…

  • I just got back from Dr. Johnny Fever’s Oscar commentary: I highly recommend it for anyone who wants an insightful critique of last night’s boob-a-palooza

  • My dad is pushing sixty and can still do a pretty mean Caterpillar.

  • The scene: The hallways of your average highschool, between classes.

    Grade: 9

    The set up: Shy Bookworm (me), walking to class with a large stack of books clutched to her chest, spies the Cute Boy she has a huge, unrequited crush on.

    The spike: Cute Boy glances in my direction (causing tunnel vision as the rest of the world suddenly ceases to exist) and my foot catches on the corner of an upturned doormat. I go sprawling in a most spectacular display of flying books and flailing limbs.

    The bonus round: After the stunned moment of disbelief wherein I begin to collect my dignity by stoically ignoring the snickers of my schoolmates, Cute Boy actually comes over to help me gather my belongings. If I could have just crawled under that mat and died….

  • Marcelle

    I love dooce!! it is like my morning cup o’ java!!!

  • How far away was that taken from? I like how the wheel is in the picture – sort of just “there.” I always try to get my steering wheel OUT of the pictures; perhaps I should try leaving it in them….

  • bethy-mae

    My whole life has been one embarassing moment after another. Recently I went to the pub and ordered a beer with a frosty mug. I went to pour the beer and was surprised when I only poured a little and it was full. I had the mug upside down. I went ahead and drank the beer out of the bottom of my mug thinking that maybe I had escaped notice. Unfortunately everyone saw it, and my buddies are still making sure that I pour beer into the right end of the mug. The worst part? I was totally sober.

    Anyone care to join me for a beer shot?

  • Bethy-Mae, LMFAO…

  • Happy Fourth Anniversary to you, Heather. You are an inspiration to many, and a joy to read every day.

    I’m going to add my embarrassing moment to your frontlist in a moment.

  • japhy

    that’s gotta be on 1-215 east heading towards downtown. these photos are great reminders of the beauty of slc. keeps me going while i am studying federal income tax in philly. 2 more weeks and then – ski trip!

  • I grew up in a very small town, population 1,900. My father, was single, we were related to 10% of the population either by blood or marriage. I was an only child, but grew up with loads of cousins. Anyway, everyone knows everyone, and my dad was one of those guys that drove down main street and if he saw one of his lady friends or even his best friends mom, he would whistle real loud and shout out things like “Hey you sexy momma” or “Hey good lookin”. Meanwhile cut to me…sliding down, down, down to the floorboard of the truck. It would be one thing if this happened once or twice, but this was my childhood and teen years. Until I no longer required rides from my dad.

    That said, today I look back and see that my Dad made people blush, smile, even laugh. My dad really was and is just about the best guy on the planet. But I wanted to die back then.

  • Is this the stupidest question ever: What does LMFAO stand for? I know LOL – but that’s about it.

  • Laughing My Fucking Ass Off.

  • Trance – thanks. The light has been turned on.

  • nika

    pretty. i like city silhouettes — Minneapolis is beautiful, too.

  • Dooce:

    Happy Blog-o-versary! Here’s to much happiness and love…you’re very deserving of all your hearts desires. Thanks for giving so much of yourself to make others blush, smile, laugh and even shed a tear.

    Cheese and Rice Mary, you RAWK my world.

  • Trance,

    This one time, when I was just starting to embrace my disillusionment with organized religion (but still reluctant to admit it out loud), I was in a very conservative Christian chatroom online and used the abbreviation “lmao.” IMMEDIATELY a moderator sternly ordered me to watch my language.
    “What?” I typed. “I just meant I was laughing my ARMS off, for all you know.”

    She banned me from that chat so fast my head spun. THANK GODS the comments section at dooce is free from the overbearing morals police!

  • I have another embarrassing moment, but this one is my sister’s. This is a classic “Mary moment” as we call them. Mary is probably the most intelligent people I know, but sometimes her common sense is a little below the charts. She was living in Boston going to grad school and was working as a waitress to make ends meet. She was out smoking a cigarette the one day right across from the courthouse as she took a break from work. This guy was standing next her, and she felt really bad for him because he had no arms. The armless man asked her if he could bum a smoke from her. Of course, being the nice person she is, she stuck a cigarette in his mouth and proceeded to light it. Moments later, a cop that was standing within feet of the armless man came storming over to my sister and started screaming at her. He yanked the cigarette out of the armless man’s mouth and threw it to the ground. My sister, totally confused, couldn’t understand why this cop was being so cruel. It was at this point that she finally realized that the armless man was actually a guy in handcuffs waiting to be booked. The cop, apparently had turned his back for just long enough for my brilliant sister to stick a smoke in his mouth. Needless to say, she was quite mortified, and profusely apologized to the cop. She didn’t tell him she thought the guy was armless. She figured it was better for him to think she was aiding a criminal in his smoking habit than for him to realize what a moron she was.

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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