CHECK IT OUT BITCHES

We're bigger, better, and bitchier than ever! We have a new kick ass website, which means we won't be posting here anymore. We soooooooo hope you continute to follow, laugh, judge, and bitch with us! Here is the link to the new site: Bitches in the Burbs http://bit.ly/jwEgVu or http://bitchesintheburbs.com It would also be amazing if you'd like our brand new facebook page...we're already having so a great time being bitches on there! Here it is, click on the link, and hit LIKE at the top of the page. Bitches in the Burbs
See you on the new site, bitches. Don't forget how much we love and appreciate each and everyone of you. Smooches! xoxo

My Backdoor B*tch

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Ahhhh.....summer is in the air. Cookouts, shorts, sprinklers...& with all that wholesome fun, comes NEIGHBORS! Neighbors of all shapes, sizes, & mentalities. America loves the "girl next door" but nobody ever talks about the "Bitch Next Door" I can reveal only now, in this special edition of BIBS, that JJ, Queen of B*tches, & one of my partners in crime, is just a hop, "sip" & b*tch away from me. Yes that's right! The one and only is there all the time, making sure I don't royally f*ck up and possibly get caught in the worst place to be: A dark, dreadful, obscure place that falls between b*tchiness and dorkiness. I thought it was a decent middle ground, but apparently it can cause a lot of confusion. Similar to a gay priest who can't tell anyone but G-D his deepest secrets, I think of myself as opinionated, with b*tchy tendencies that are hidden from the majority of the world.

On the fateful day that I moved in, unbeknownst to me, my life was about to radically change. (I know, it sounds like a line from a Judy Blume book.) I had heard about a cool girl that lived behind me, through TT of all people. When she found out where I was moving, she immediately sent me a message that I was going to be living right behind her BFF. Kick*ss! I have always loved TT, so I was pretty sure that I'd get along with this girl too. I was psyched to be moving near someone with whom I could have a normal convo, cup of coffee, or the occasional glass of wine.

A few days after I moved in, I was letting my dogs out when I hear, "Hi, RR," from over the fence like f*ckin Wilson from "Home Improvement." The voice sounded "friendly-ish," although I knew fo sho that this was not the voice of the "I just made you some freshly baked brownies neighbor." I thought, "WTF...I'm going in for the kill." I walked over to officially meet her & say hi....ya know the original fake "hiiiiii" like when you kiss someone on the cheek twice (why do people do that anyway for f*cks sake?) I was on my best behavior, & of course I was beyond curious to meet this person who I'd heard so much about. Would I even like her or would she make me want to hurl? Would she be someone that's so nosy that I had to get an electric fence or even worse...a DM?!? As I approached her yard, I saw that for sure she was normal, totally not a DM (even though she apologized for the no bra and PJs look). We stood there talking forever, & we figured out we had a crap ton in common. There was no bullsh*t, nothing fake, nosy, or dorky about this chick. She was straightforward, funny, & oh soooooo b*tchy. At the same time she was warm, friendly and welcoming. I realized right there that this was way better than a stupid*ss plate of brownies or the F*cking Welcome Wagon. This was a chick that I could seriously pound some drinks with!

When I finally left, I had that bizarre, f*cked up feeling you get when you know you're about to embark on an exciting new adventure. Yet, I was also extremely nervous. Why? Well, sh*t, I just moved in. I thought that the dorky neighbors were safe and unassuming. I also knew there wasn't a chance in hell that JJ shared my point of view. She probably didn't even know who the f*ck the DM neighbors were. She was judgmental and had balls, but I still wasn't 100% sure. So for the next few weeks of summer we hung out...a lot. We had some great laughs and she filled me in on "The Cockers" & the others in the 'hood. I thought "whatever," I'll make my own opinions. But the frightening thing is...she was spot f*cking on. With every single one of them. Who was this chick, and why did I like her so much?

A few weeks later some of kids in the 'hood and their DMs (complete with mom jeans, fugly hair, &  lame *ss topics of convo) were in my backyard, along with JJ and her kiddos. After about 20 minutes of pacing, JJ walked up to me, pointed her finger in my face, and I sh*t you not, said these exact words to me: "RR, if you ever f*cking invite these people into your yard again, DO NOT expect me to come over!" Ummm, the scary thing is...I listened to her, haven't seen them since.

Yes she's a total b*tch, beyond my expectations of one! But, thank G-D for his b*tch marvel. If not for her, I would've kept having the DM's over in my yard so the kids could have some "safe playtime." She really put me in my place for that!!! She also minced no words in telling me how friggin crazy I was because I wouldn't let my daughter switch her Disney Princess Barbie clothes. She let me know it was really okay if Jasmine wore Snow White's f*ckin' dress, I just needed to let go! Maybe I get angry at the crotch sometimes, but she's right! Being a royal b*tch is useful.

If she wasn't such a bad*ss rag, I would have a little BIT who would need hours of therapy, all because her mom f*cked her up by organizing toys too much and letting DM's have her over for lemonade & to help with the upcoming bake sale. OMG I can't even bear to think of what could've happened!!!

I could go on, our adventures have just begun. Please remember b*tches, choose your neighbors wisely. Not everyone is as lucky as we are!

Mario in a Pussymobile

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My name is Skully and the B*tches in the Burbs have enlisted me for a brief submission to their blog. Apparently, this makes me a “B*tch” myself, but I can handle that. Being an incurable misanthrope, I am sympathetic to their cause. All the writing I’ve done for the past few years has been Heavy Metal oriented: album reviews, concert reviews, etc. Considering though, that I have two jobs that require me to be behind the wheel nonstop, I have plenty to b*tch about since the intelligence of the average suburban driver is equivalent to, well, that of an average suburban driver. Nuff said.

Like I said, I have two jobs. I’m an outside sales rep during the day, and at night I throw on my tights, cape, and mask to deliver pizzas to hapless Chicago suburbanites (Lots to b*tch about there!). Now  sometimes I have a little time in between jobs for a brief power nap, and sometimes I actually sleep hard and miss my alarm, thus putting me behind schedule to clock in at the pizza joint and mentally prepare myself for an onslaught of sh*tty tips. A couple weeks ago was just one of these times and my scramble to get to work became an epic battle against idiocy.

I’m really a safe driver by nature. I hover slightly above the speed limit, even when I’m working. I hate stupidity on the road that gets people killed. But on this day I had to push a little bit to make it on time. I was motoring to work at five over when ahead of me, some knucklehead in a light blue minivan crosses four lanes of traffic to make a left turn right in front of me, causing me to brake kind of hard. I did not fault him though, for that is a hard area to get out of in rush hour. He cruised ahead of me right at the speed limit. “No big deal.” I thought. “I’ll just goose the gas, move into the left lane and pass him.” So, with open road ahead of us, I changed lanes, increased my speed slightly, and overtook him. At the proper time, I checked my mirrors and blind spot to find he was still barely in my way to switch back into the right lane for an upcoming turn I had to make.

Not being concerned, I pressed the accelerator harder, bringing me to an uncomfortable 10 over, checked my blind spot, and the f*cker was still there! Ok, now he’s obviously playing a game with me, so I go 15, 20, and then an uncharacteristic 30 mph over the limit to try and pass but he keeps pace and places himself right where I can’t move over. Now, I drive a little Scion with no balls, the passenger side of my rear bumper was already being held to my car with duct tape, so playing chicken while merging over came to mind. I also took a hard look at my cup holder filled with toll change and seriously considered paying off like a slot machine all over this asshat’s hood and windshield, but alas, I had a job to get to and a major accident (and possible arrest) would NOT endear me to by boss. With the stoplight and my right turn approaching fast, I reluctantly conceded and laid off the gas. As my nemesis passed to my right, he looked my way and got a really good look at the extended middle finger on my right hand as I leaned so far to the right that it was actually outside of my open passenger window.

That’s when I got my first hard look at his block head, smug face, cheesy black mustache, and cap and realized, with amusement mixed with fury, that I had just lost a race to Nintendo’s f*cking Mario in a minivan! I was now living Super Mario Kart in the real world! I got behind him and feverishly looked for my trigger to throw turtle shells at him to knock him off the goddamn road or a lightning bolt to shrink his *ss so I could run him the f*ck over!

On the rear of his powder blue pussymobile, I noticed a bold number 6 magnetized to his backdoor. I have absolutely no interest in watching cars drive around in a circle at high speeds, but I assumed this number represented some NASCAR hillbilly that he was desperately trying to emulate to obviously compensate for a tiny penis.

After making my turn behind him onto a busier road with much heavier rush hour traffic, we did a little leapfrog but I was not willing to risk other drivers and cars to get the best of him. I will say though, he got a few more looks at my flying bird until I had to turn into work. Every single day I watch for that cocksucker, for one day vengeance will be mine. For months now, I’ve been entertaining thoughts of carrying a carton of eggs in my car for deserving morons like this guy. I may just implement this idea. Paybacks are a b*tch, Mario...

Have a Pappy Day

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I hate going to the Gynecologist. I fret about it for weeks before the appointment. Well, today was THE day.  I waited for 25 minutes because apparently my nurseʼs kid was teething and she didnʼt want to wake him this morning since he was finally sleeping. Umm, douche bag, you have patients waiting with appointments all f*cking day!  The whole process took 2 hours, & every crevice was probed like I was at the clink. So first, I get to go pee in a cup and put it in the 2-way cabinet for some poor pee-on to analyze (lol) and I wait some more. Then I go in a tiny sterile room where Iʼm asked to sport a f*cking  paper gown that is basically a giganto dentist bib. It even comes with a handy little plastic belt. For what? I sit and wait.......and wait, while the entire staff sips coffee and gabs about weekend plans.  A nurse finally arrives, and much to my chagrin, is a f*cking tall, dopey, creepy GUY!!!! And I slink into the chair.  WTF is HE doing here? I purposely requested a female to get away from the icky men who chose Gynecology as a career, like my first OB. The repulsive doctor I had for baby #1 obviously had a p*ssy fetish and satisfied it every day by lubing up and copping a feel on trusting moms-to-be. How do I know he wasnʼt removing the gloves for the “fingering” part of the exam? We canʼt see beyond the paper tent across our knees, with our feet a mile apart in those obnoxious stirrups!  I pray this boy nurse is just going to weigh me, take my blood pressure, and test my breathing because this paper gown is staying tightly wrapped around me like a steak from the meat counter.  This is nothing compared to whatʼs next. Guy or chick, the barbaric “pap smear” is detestable. There is no way to make this sweet and simple.  My awesome female doc comes in. I love her, but Iʼm still totally freaked out that I have to bare*ss and other things so she can make sure that orifice is healthy too. Of course Iʼve done a stellar job with the landscape and the va- jay-jay was April fresh! But, all those demons start cluttering my mind....... Am I going to fart while her face is probing my cervix? Might I orgasm? Will something spray her in the face when she pries it open till it echoes? Is she thinking, "My what big lips you have!” Argggghhh!  And why, oh why do they slather so much K-Y down there?  A juicy queaf upon exiting the silent waiting room while 10 women glare at me is certain! This is the worst! And what is taking so long? Sheʼs telling me her whole life story while my crotch is longing for a rock to hide under. Finally, smear accomplished! Ok, I hate that word. Why do they have to call it smear? It reminds me of the Einstein Bagelsʼ “Shmear” as your tasty topping! Now youʼll never again indulge in Shmear for your Asiago bagel! Unfortunately the boy nurse came back for the EKG. I got to put my pants on, but had to lose my security gown on top. He plasters electrodes all over the place, paying special homage near my heart. F*cking shoot me now. I feel like a science project at this point, and they havenʼt even taken my blood yet. I've been fasting for 12 hours and now itʼs 10:00. I just need coffee and a rock to crawl under along with my embarrassed vag.  He even says, “Itʼs just a job to me, sweetie." Riiiiiight! I'm guessing he's gay! Tell me heʼs not checking out tits at any opportunity. Whatever. I barely fill an A cup these days at 105 pounds, with boobies like a 12 year old, only not so perky..... more like 2 deflated balloons found under the couch after a week. Now, all we have left is the blood draw. Thank God, because itʼs been almost 2 hours, and did I mention I was totally jonesing for coffee?  Iʼll f*cking starve all day, but if 2 cups of highly caffeinated java donʼt enter my blood stream PDQ,  things are going to get ugly.  Suddenly, my nice doctor, feeling sorry for me (or sensing I might go postal) brings me in 2 coffees! Kick ass! I downed them in 30 seconds flat. Horny nurse boy comes in says, “You guzzled that!” Feeling spunky and much perkier now, I said, “Actually, sweetie,  I think I need a cigarette after the molestation that went on here today, but Iʼll settle for this.”  His jaw dropped as he left the room.  Iʼm pretty sure I heard him grumble to my doc, “That woman is crazy.”  I packed up my things, hurried out of the office, and burst out laughing outside, sans any queafing! So ladies, the next time you spread eagle for the Gyne, try not to let those demons enter your mind. Remember.......itʼs just a job, sweetie!  

~~Have a pappy day, b*tches! 

Meet the Cockers

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I promised myself I wouldn't do it. I swore up and down I wouldn't waste one precious second giving this hideous wench the time of day. But seriously, how can you have a blog titled "Bitches in the Burbs" without talking about something that every suburbanite has in common...neighbors.Okay, B*tches, the moment has arrived! It's time for you to "Meet the Cockers."

Mrs. Cocker: Imagine the "anti-me." That's her. Bangs curled under, fake polo shirt, Lee jean mini skirt, f*cking bobby socks, and Keds. Yep, it's 2011 and this suckasswhore is dressing like its 1993. Her face looks like she has been continually sucking on a lemon since birth, and there's a pole wedged so far up her *ss it would take a team of the toughest Navy SEALs to get it out.
Mr. Cocker:  I'm coining a new word to describe him: Torkssy. He's a tool and a dork and a pussy all at the same time. How is this possible? Trust me, it is. From his ugly *ss sleeveless muscle t-shirts that he breaks out at the first possible sign of warm weather, to the f*cking greasy *ss combover, and the way he cowers each time he hears Mrs. Cocker's shrill voice screaming DINNER, (at 4:00 in the afternoon, no less), he's the epitome of all three words neatly packaged into one ridiculous human being. You know, the kind of guy who walks around all bad *ss, then won't look you in the eye while talking to you? Torkssy...learn it.
The Cockettes: The three Cocker children who've somehow jumped straight off the pages of Flowers in the Attic, into the house next door. Don't know the book? Google it.
I had the "pleasure" of meeting the witch next door the very day I moved into my house. (I didn't call her a b*tch on purpose. That would be a compliment.) I was unpacking my kitchen, when  I heard a knock at the door. Being the b*tch that I am, I suspected that there wasn't a chance in h*ll that I'd fall in love & become BFF with my neighbors. But...I was definitely not expecting the shrew that was on my front step. From the moment I saw her, I knew, this was one chick who desperately needed to get laid. That f*cking face. Then, there was the mom bob hair straight out of a bad '90's flick, complete with "curling iron bangs,"(and I sh*t you not, her look hasn't changed one f*cking iota since that fateful day.) Her whole being screamed bassackwards c*nt. Yep, that's right, I called her a c*nt. Trust me, she is one, she earned the name.
I summoned up my brightest smile, thinking, "Oh sh*t I'm gonna hate her, but she's coming over to meet me and welcome me to the neighborhood. She may be a complete dork, and a sour one to boot, but at least she's trying to be "neighborly." Hahaha, What the f*ck was I smoking? Her first words to me were, "Did you know your air conditioner is on?" Ahhhh f*ck... "Yes, I put it on, I was hot," as if I owed her an explanation. "Well, I just wanted to make sure, because the people who used to live here always had it on, & I wanted you to know." Are you f*cking kidding me?  Not only was this the most unf*ckingpleasant, poleuptheass, sourpuss face douchebag that I have ever run into in my life, she's f*cking NOSY. OMG, I have neighborhood f*cking watch stationed right next door. And...we didn't have a fence at the time. And...she had a kid my kid's age. Oh no...so screwed.  
It really never got better from there. I tried, really I did, but this woman hates EVERYONE.  She spared no time telling me about all of the horrendous people who lived on our street, and filling me in on the neighborhood gossip. As if I gave even one-tenth of a sh*t.  I still don't know half the people's names on my street, and could care less if I ever do. I've got my friends, my family, things and people I enjoy. Why on earth would I even give a rat's *ss about Joe Blow down the street. Didn't then, don't now, never will. 
It's been 10 years since I first moved in. We don't exactly talk anymore...but I'll save that story for another post. (I promise you, it's good!). She's still as crotchety now as she was then, probably more so. Mr. Cocker, well he's an even bigger Torkssy than ever. At least when he used to wear the muscle t-shirts he had muscles. Now it's just his big, fat, flabby*ss arms pushing the lawnmower as the Mrs. sits on her *ss, reading Good Housekeeping, no doubt picking up decorating tips to enhance her blue carpeted, country geese themed house. 
Thank the lord that I have RR and TT living so close...don't know what I'd do without them. Ahhh....life in the 'burbs. It doesn't get better than this, b*tches! xoxoxoxo

Oh Buggah, F*cking with the Royals, B*tchy Style

Top Ten Ways to Royally Fuck with the Queen

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10. Prince William has an affair with someone twice his age, who may or may not have been a man.


9. Prince Harry marries a socialite who has "serviced" many of the Queen's staff.


8. Prince William has a love child with Lady Gaga.


7. Parliament passes a law that you must have your teeth checked before giving head to any of the members of the royal family.


6. Kate finds out that Camilla (the horse faced wannabe queen) is her biological Mum.


5. Prince Charles wakes up naked in bed with Kate, wearing a Polo helmet and thong, claiming "he has no recollection of what happened."


4. Kate has a mishap getting out of a limo, sans bloomers, flashing her bald twat at the paparazzi.


3. The Prince and Princess decide that they want a "blended family"  because having their own would be selfish.


2. Prince Harry breaks out his Nazi attire and goes on tour with Charlie Sheen.


1. After a booze filled honeymoon, William and Kate wake up with tattoos across their forehead that read BITCH and BITCHESS. They have no plans to remove them anytime soon.




 Cheerio, B*tches! xoxoxoxo

Good Vibrations

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About 7 years ago I attended my first "Surprise Party" at a friend's house. It clearly was my kind of party with fun b*tches, flowing booze, and the run of the mill sex lotions, potions, and standard vibrating plastic weenies.  To my surprise, however, when it was time to sit and listen to the sales spiel, I would discover I was a virgin to the world of pointy colorful objects that came bustling out of 2 huge suitcases, all of which were available to take home that night! Ooh, this could get "nutty!" ;) We sat in a big circle, wine in one hand, order form of 100 items in the other. She pulls out some cream. Ok, woop-dee-doo. Been there done that. Smells like vanilla, tastes like vanilla. It's frosting in a tube to make you or your spouse taste like a cupcake instead of fish or sweat. Well, who couldn't use that and it's $6? I check the box to order it. Next item to pass, is a little stringy thong and see-through top made of 2" of lace and a little thread. Yawn, I've seen these a thousand times and I hate wearing them because I look like an idiot and have 6 others at home with tags. Besides, they're on for 2 minutes, unless you do the strip-tease, and I look ridiculous doing that. Plus, the WH would be "done" before we even started if I spoil him with a fore-dance, right? So I take a pass on the "Naughty Negligee," my hot naked body is enough. Moving along, she pulls out a little purple rubbery rabbit, affectionately called "The Wascally Wabbit." It vibrates and is waterproof, petite, and it could make things vewwy vewwy intewesting! Now it's getting good! Only $19? Sold.  Next toy is "Officer Night Stick." It's a f*cking dildo of a police officer. It looks like one of those Weeble Wobbles from childhood, but longer and much more entertaining! "Weebles wobble but they don't fall down" was their slogan, as it should be for "Officer Night Stick!" How much? $25? I'll take it.  Oh, the next one is a keeper: Nipple Nibblers in strawberry flavor! It's cool and creamy and will make your tits look and taste like fruit topped cupcakes!  Gotta buy a gift for the WH, so here it is, his $7 container of fun. Wait, I guess it would be more fun for me. Oh well.  What sex toy party is complete without fuzzy handcuffs? I never had those and I might even shackle up the WH if he pisses me off. Just kidding! Every bedroom needs a pair, no matter what you decide to use them for, b*tches.  They're only $14. What the hell? Things were getting exciting now as she pulls out boas, lubricants, games, and more toys! These little wonder wands were getting bigger and better. They had adjustable vibrations, rotating heads, multiple appendages, disco sparkling lights...you name it! Speaking of naming it, here are just some of the dildos to choose from: Lucky Dragon, Mister Buzzy, Jack Frost, Willie Wonka, Big Teaze, Monte Carlo, Pink Passion, Jelly Osaki, Eager Beaver, and so much more! They got bigger and scarier. You'd have to have a huge cavern down there to enjoy some of these girthy gadgets! But there were plenty of cute little fun ones that I could stash anywhere for a little mid-day pissy mood "pick-me-up." The Silver Bullet, the Mini Massager, and the Slim Jim are a few of my faves. They never pull a hair, make a mess, or poke around where they're not invited. I can keep one in my purse, in my dresser, in the car, and one in the bathroom! 8 toys, 3 creams, and too much wine later, I wrote my $185 check, took my little brown bag of tricks home and hid my goodies like they were illegal weapons. Apparently I didn't hide the little purple Wabbit too well because 5 year old lil BIT found it!! I explained it was a neck massager and quickly brushed her off.  A few weeks later, she found it while Grandma was babysitting and asked if she could massage her back. OMFG! We girls just like our vibrating stuff! So, b*tches, say NO to Tupperware, Pampered Chef, and Southern Living parties. Say YES to "Toy" parties for a guaranteed good time, and if you have  little BITs, hide them well or your mother in law might get a hand massage with Strawberry Nipple Nibblers!


Strawberry Smooches, B*tches! XOXO

Rips 'n Tips

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Since our post "Botox Bonanza" seemed to hit home with many of you, we thought it only appropriate to review & report on some of the sh*t we've used. This is for you, b*tches: the ever so vain readers that would rather sit back and enjoy our b*tch sessions and take it all in.  We're always speaking from the heart (yes we b*tches do have one). I think that we can all agree that aging bites the big one! We feel compelled to do the only thing we can: try to help our faithful followers out by offering some free advice!  We have already come clean about Botox and how we feel about our options out there. While we can't comment YET on major plastic surgeries from a personal standpoint, we do admit to buying whatever works for us to look & feel great, whether it be clothes, undergarments, and of course face products! Yes b*tches...some of us secretly believe that there may be a product that can take years off in one day. I'm sure I've spent over $1000 in creams and serums promising me that "smooth as a baby's bottom look"...and what do I have to show for it?

Any plastic surgeon will tell you it's impossible. Once you've f*cked it up royally in the sun, & have spent years "moving your face too much" apparently you're screwed. I was actually told by a doctor that my expressions have left my wrinkles beyond repair. Thanks! So while we continue to save for the "big stuff," we'll keep experimenting, searching for the magic potion that will turn back time, or at least make us look like we have!

Coming at you live from my boudoir, this is RR reporting for BIBS in this week's feature of Rips 'n Tips!

Here it is b*tches, BIBS top 10 list of best & worst face products of 2011. (mind you I'm not a professional and only play one on TV)

Drum Roll.......

 THE BEST

1. Peter Thomas Roth Instant Firm Temporary Face Tightener-absolutely amazing! Could care less if my face feels like a baby's *ss for only 10 minutes, it's worth the $100 bucks or so!!! I don't care if there's horse spooge in this product..Holy shit! You cleanse your face, apply a small layer, & in a few minutes of not moving, you look in the mirror, and I'm not even kidding, there is not one wrinkle on your face!! WTF!! Of course there is an end to the climax when it starts to wear off! You're screaming at the mirror "No don't gooooooo!!!!" It's a huge tease, but wow! It has to be rinsed or else there's white crap all over your face...but it looks great under makeup for a few hours!! 

2. Patricia Wexler MD No Injection Wrinkle Smoother-This was one of the first products I tried last year and it's a bit pricey but when you apply to your "elevens", it smoothes them out pretty well for a few hours. I buy the sample sizes and it's cheaper that way. Under moisturizer, it's great!

3. Hyaluronic acid capsules- Got these from Walgreens and not sure of the brand...probably any capsules with pure hylaluronic acid is good at night under cream. I really think the capsules are concentrated and work best. Hyaluronic acid is what fillers are made of (the injectable kind) but if you can find concentrated serum, it works well!

4. Garnier Nutresee Night Cream- This is a regular pharmacy bought product and guess what b*tches, I like it. It's light and your skin really feels moist in the morning

Did I just say "moist"??? I f*cking hate that word, but I guess it's appropriate here.

5. Patrica Wexler All Day Face Cream with SPF 30- Most of the products in her line are awesome. It's available at Bath and Body Works. The moisturizer for lines and regular skin is great! It really plumps and makes your skin glow.

The final "best" item isn't a cream, it's a mascara I recently found that's cheap, amazing, & doesn't clump fast....

6. Rimmel London Glam Eyes Lash Flirt!- WOW...incredible! You won't need to wear as much, & your lashes look like you're ready for some action...need I say more?

THE WORST

1. Heidi Klum's "In an Instant" face wash, serum, eye cream instant wrinkle eraser- I saw this constantly on late night infomercials and I thought, "WTF why not?" Heidi swears by it! It even has a money back guarantee! Of course I'll love it, Heidi wouldn't lie! She's soo sweet! They even showed the girls "before" picture, using the product & "instantly" they looked wrinkle free! Yeah, right! Either I'm a sucka, or I have horrible skin that goes way beyond frickin' repair. This did not work at all for me.

2.Dr. Denese Cellular Firming Cream- This is a liquid. You apply a couple drops at night then put on a lotion. It smells like lavender and made me break out immediately! I had heard from others that it was pricey but worth it. I hate coughing up the big bucks at expensive boutiques such as "HSN" where this shitty *ss product was from. I usually go on eBay and get smaller sizes (good tip b*tches). It's supposed to regenerate collagen...maybe the 'scientists" switched my potion with Meth?

3. Loreal Collagen Filler- Ok, whatever lovely spokesperson drove me to buy this piece of poop (POP), obviously eats shrooms daily, & is constantly hallucinating. I realize you need to give it time so I waited, and waited...nada. You fill the lines in & let the product sink into your wrinkles. It says you can leave it, but it creates little white balls of doodoo on your face that look like you just gave some good H.... Enough with that..

4. Patricia Wexler MD Acne Face Wash-I was told at the store, even though I don't have acne, to use this because it has Glycolic Acid and "acnostat" that helps resurface skin the best. Well, while I felt refreshed at first, it did jacksh*t for my skin. However, her other products are awesome! Nobody's perfect, right?

I know there are more BEST than WORST products, that's pretty cool, right? I'll have way more to talk about soon so stay tuned!

Hope you B*tches enjoyed my first investigative piece! Love and kisses & here's lookin at you with a tighter face..... 

Nice Beaver

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I try to take care of myself for the most part. The older I get, the more obsessed I become with staying in shape, feeling good, and looking my best. Even though I have my bad habits, I'll sweat my *ss off for 2 hours the day after a drinking binge with the girls, which is more often than I should admit.  I hate "average." I want to look different. Better. Hot, actually. Look around, you'll see the same mushy lunch lady body. That's fine, but it would be nice if they'd make an effort to maintain & nurture their other "parts."

I HATE hearing that "no time for myself" BS because they do find time to watch Dr. Phil, clip coupons, & wash f*cking drapery. How about the asses in jeans with the "smile" across across each cheek look?

I want to say, "Honey, you have 3 choices:     

~Either go to the gym and tone that shit up,               

~Wear a cute VS thong to hide your double butt and         

  maybe give the WH a boner,

~Go commando as I do, because I have those damn smiles

   no matter how many f*cking squats I do, & thongs

   have me digging like a kid who didn't wipe their ass."

Plus the WH kinda "digs" it too! 

Now...let's move around to the front. You didn't think I'd go there huh?  I need to touch on the almighty...... Vagina!! I realized that there is one thing I might have had in common with those aforementioned DMs............ till today, b*tches!  Urban dictionary refers to the vagina as a Va-jay-jay, Cooter, Poontang, Muff, Fish taco, Bearded clam, Slit, Honey pot, Snatch, Nookie, and so much more. It's a popular little "gift" we've been given. An unkempt one has it's own set of nicknames as well: Sas-crotch, Congo Crotch, Beaver Crotch, Jungle Crotch, etc. Well, I have recently discovered that it is way more sexy to have a Landing strip, Camaro crotch, or Naked chicken, as UD refers to a nicely groomed "area."   Wow, I never realized having the crotch of a 9 year old was hot.  Well, break out the hedge shears and pruning saws, this weed-wacker is going in! I can't believe I let this precious commodity go unattended to and ignored like a red-headed stepchild!  I was absolutely mortified at the amount of fluff that piled up beneath me! I took my Panasonic Lady Shaver & after wild pandemonium, I finally found flesh! It looked like the floor after Don King's haircut (but no grays, I swear!). One could make a fantastic toupee or sell that shit on E-Bay as Nick Jonas' haircut remains. Holy shit, how did the WH not get lost or eaten alive down there? I have to apologize to Dr. Jellyfinger, too! 

So you ask, "Are my "parts" now stunningly coiffed, modern, and very un-average?" You bet your britches! And speaking of britches, you wont find any pussycat whiskers peeking out of mine at the pool this summer! Shit, I might even ditch the "skort" and get a string bikini for my new "vertical smile!" Take care of those twats, b*tches! It doesn't have to be a jungle down there! Smooches! 

 

Mommy, You Suck!

Lil Bit's (4 yr old) favorite saying in the entire world is, "My daddy's the bestest." It's so cute, and trust me, I love that she adores her dad so much.  But...it is kind of annoying that every f*cking time I ask her something, the response I get pretty much goes like this..."NO, Daddy will help me, because my daddy's the bestest. NO, I don't want to sit by you, only Daddy, because my daddy's the bestest..."  Hey, no problem my precious little angel...just because I carried you inside my body for 9 f*cking months, pushed your huge *ss head outta my coochie, have taken care of you every day since, and love you so much it f*cking hurts...don't worry about it, I'll be fine.  Really. 
Lil bit has been happier than a pig in sh*t for the past week or so, because Daddy took some time off of work.  She's been waking up in the morning and goes straight to him, not even batting an eyelash my way. Whatever. It's been a nice little break for me. Yesterday afternoon, he took both daughters for a walk. They're walking and talking, having a great time, and he tells them that he's gotta go back to work today, not really sure what their reactions will be. BIT(11 yr old) is fine with it, she's in school all day anyway.  He looks to lil bit, somewhat concerned about how she's going to take the news. Well...she looks at him and says, "That's okay Daddy, I get to stay home with someone who I love & really loves me." (Phew, thank G-D).  He replies, "I know you do honey, you get to be with Mommy."  To which she announces..."No Daddy, not MOMMY...Ginny!" Ummmm...Ginny is our F*CKING dog!


Can't imagine what this day is going to bring, b*tches, stay tuned ;)! xoxo

GNO: Big Boobs

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We've been best friends since we were 12 years old. Almost 30 f*cking years, and whenever we're together we have more fun than ever. We have experienced every milestone and "first"as friends. It always amazes us that when we're together we still find new ways to amuse ourselves. We usually end up daring each other to do asinine things. Of course, it can get us into trouble at times, but honestly it's well worth it.  Every time we're together and drinks are involved, we tend to act like we're in high school all over again.

Botox Bonanza

We've made it pretty f*cking clear that we're vain! That's not really an uncommon trait in women these days, especially in those of us over 39 searching for the fountain of youth.  Sure, we may feel 25 on the inside, but trust us, every line, wrinkle, stretch mark, and extra centimeter of skin is cause for extreme panic. Can we have everything we need to be totally cool and confident? F*ck no!!! We never seem to be happy with ourselves physically, no matter how beautiful we may be. Whose fault is this you ask?? Well...it's the other f*ckers that ruin it for us, by either one-upping us on the youth curve, having more money than we do, or enjoying the benefits of their filthy rich sugar daddies. We've tried every d*mn cream, gel, face tape, and holistic approach out there, and while the ads are quite convincing, they all f*cking suck. So, instead of wasting any more time or money on these bullsh*t remedies, we decided f*ck it, if the fountain of youth is in a syringe or knife, we just don't care!! We WANT it!! We know we look pretty good. But the amount of time we spent in the sun with baby oil covering our bodies (who the f*ck ever heard of SPF?), not to mention the amount of partying we did throughout our youth, has definitely taken its toll. It's time for us to face it , the competition is fierce and we don't like it.

Speaking as one of the BIBs, I personally fell for the frozen forehead craze last week. It kinda feels a bit like someone put paper mache on my head and forgot to remove it, but d*mn, it looks GOOD...for now!!! Not a line or wrinkle in sight. My forehead is as smooth as a baby's bottom...for now!!! Three months down the road, guess what? I've gotta go back for more. But like an addict, I'm already on the bandwagon.  I've started a botox fund, and at the first sight of my forehead showing any expression, I'm banging down the doctor's door and begging her to shoot me up! Seriously, I don't care if it's the middle of the night.  

We all know that too much of anything, even a good thing, can really mess you up. Will you promise me one thing b*tches? When I begin to look like a figure out of Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum, PLEASE  plan an intervention, send me away, and treat me for my addiction. I know I can count on you, unless YOU'RE in the process of being botoxicated yourselves, then I'm totally f*cked!

Hot in Heels

Thanks to Jessica Simpson, I bought the most kick *ss pair of shoes the other day.  Absolutely gorgeous, sky high, stripper heels, and I have no f*cking clue where I'm going to wear them.  I've spent a good amount of time prancing around my house in them, striking different poses and stopping to check myself out in the mirror in various outfits.  D*mn, they look hot!
My day to day routine consists mostly of errands to places like Target, Walgreens, the grocery store, & the mall.  I pick up & drop off at pre-school, middle school, take my BITs to dance class, appointments, & playdates, and basically run around doing a whole lot of sh*t to make sure my family is taken care of. Every f*cking place I go I'm surrounded by dowdy DMs in their baggy, outdated, frumpy old get ups, not giving a crap whether they've washed their hair in days, let alone put on a little lipstick. Even if there is some hot little Chiquita banana hiding somewhere underneath the surface, you'd never in a million years know it. G-d D*mn it pisses me off so bad, and I don't even know why! I want to walk up to them, rip off their stupid ugly *ss lavender turtleneck, pleated slacks, Playtex 18 hour bra, granny panties, sensible loafers, & WWJD canvas bag and throw the entire f*cking ensemble into a fire and watch it burn. Why the f*ck does motherhood have to mean looking like a disheveled mess? I mean, seriously!?!  I guess I could walk around looking like a homely slob, in sweats, non form-fitting clothes that do nothing to flatter my figure, but why the f*ck would I?
Truth is, I really like looking good!  I like the way I feel inside when I put on a cute outfit, do my hair, makeup, & nails and walk out the door.  I hold my head higher, smile brighter, and add a little more bounce to my step. I don't dress like a skank & I don't dress inappropriately for my age. I just DRESS!
So listen up all you DM's out there, I've got a bit of advice for you. Take that hideous ragged old Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt, camel toe mom jeans, crocs, scrunchies, and anything else that makes you look & FEEL like a tired, frumpy, unattractive old bag, and get rid of it.  I don't mean stash it in the back of your closet for a day when you're OTR, just throw the f*ckers out. Now, the next time you go to the grocery store put on a cute shirt, hot pair of jeans that hug your *ss, cute little pumps or sandals, hair, makeup, & nails done, and walk in there like you f*cking own the place. Wait and see the reaction you get from people. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll feel like a fricking rock star!  
So thank you Jessica Simpson for making the hottest shoes I own. I can't f*cking wait to put them on and strut my stuff. Anyone want to join me?!?  Happy weekend, b*tches, hope you find somewhere to show off what you've got!