An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

Just now my father had to get up, walk away from his computer, and count to ten very slowly

“We should invite the new neighbors over for a drink.”

“Sure, but how do you know they aren’t Mormon?”

“I don’t know, I just got this feeling. They didn’t read Mormon.”

“What does that mean? DIDN’T READ MORMON.”

“Maybe it was the horns poking out of their foreheads.”

“Did they have Wiccan talismans hanging from their necks?”

“No, but one of them had two piercings in one ear.”




“You heard me.”

“Dude, you know what that means. We invite them over for drinks and two weeks later someone is going to discover our headless bodies shoved inside the dumpster behind Denny’s.”

“You’re right. I just felt The Spirit leave this conversation. That can’t be a good sign.”

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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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