An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

While standing in line for security at the airport

Me: “Here, smell my arm. I bought a new body lotion.”

Jon casually sniffs my elbow and then pretends to gag. Dramatically.

Me: “What, you don’t like it?”

Jon: “It smells like hot garbage in Brooklyn.”

Me: “You’re an asshole.”

Jon: “You’re in love with an asshole.”

Me: “Apparently you’re in love with hot garbage in Brooklyn.”

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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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