the smell of my desperation has become a stench

The 2007 Golden Globes

My next piece about the Golden Globe awards is up at Alpha Mom:

The Globes have a fighting chance at being fun because they never include a cloying musical number performed by an aging artist — usually Sting when they can’t book Phil Collins — from an animated show I haven’t even heard of. Plus, they do away with the unnecessary banter between presenters that plagues the Oscars, banter that is as painful as any scene from a Ben Stiller movie where everything is going wrong, and just when you think it couldn’t go more wrong, when it seems that is has finally reached the pinnacle of wrongness, a house falls out of the sky and lands directly on the already broken toe of the character who has just found out that the heart he received as a transplant was taken from a third-world dictator who killed orphans as a hobby.

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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