An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

If you haven’t read this already you probably should

Maggie’s very accurate account of forcing me to look at sex toys, including one that made me say out loud, “They do not come that big, right? How? HOW? DON’T LIE TO ME, MAGGIE, HOW!”

This is my favorite part:

“The truth is I insisted that Heather could not leave town without a vibrator, as I knew she’d never owned one, and I didn’t see any clean, well-lit, sex-toy shops last time I was in Salt Lake City. Heather protested that she didn’t need one. I pointed out that it was not a question of need, but a quality-of-life issue.”

Next time I participate in a food-drive I’m going to drop off several pink, rubber-encased vibrators with seven different speeds, two of which fluctuate between the force of a jack-hammer and a rocket launcher. For the kids.

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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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