Monthly Archives: January, 2014

Behind the Fairy Tale: Beauty and the Beast

Um, could you keep that candle away from my dress?

Um, could you keep that candle away from my dress?

First off, a disclaimer.  There’s been a few who have sheepishly admitted to liking Disney movies.  If I were to say I hated them, a friend who blogs here, and has known me since I was twelve, would totally rat me out.  I do love these movies, well, most of them anyway.  That’s how I know so much about them.  Sometimes I watch stuff I like!  But it’s just so easy to find the goofy parts.  Pun intended.

On to the story, tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme . . . cause, um, you know the dinosaurs totally told this tale, usually in musical form. We start with a narrator who tells us about how this spoiled prince totally dissed a creepy old lady and wouldn’t let her in and oh oh she’s an enchantress.  She turns the prince into a beast who then has to find a girl by the time he turns 21 or he’s stuck a beast for all time.  Oh, and as an added bonus, his whole staff is turned into silverware, clocks, candles, furniture, and assorted knick-knacks.

I always thought something was off about that.  I mean, where were the prince’s parents?  And talk about an overdone punishment – what is this, Singapore?  Check out this clip from  He focuses mostly on the intro, and he’s hilarious.

After the intro, we skip like ten years and meet Belle, whose name means beauty, so at least she’s not actually named Beauty like in the original stories, which, really, is just freaking asking for trouble.  In this version, Belle is lucky enough not to have any siblings.  Also, mom’s dead.  But you knew that.

So Belle walks down the street in her “old provincial town” where everyone around her breaks out into song and conveniently introduce themselves.  Belle is not a bubble head – she reads books, you guys.  They’re stupid fairy tales, but I’m guessing she doesn’t have much selection.  Since she’s smart and educated, the rest of the town totally doesn’t get her.  Having grown up in a small town in the very conservative Bible Belt, I can sort of get that.

Man, this town bites.

Man, this town bites.

The big handsome guy in town, Gaston, decides Belle should be his because she’s as beautiful as he is.  What’s odd to me, though, is that there are these triplet blondes that seem quite cute and fawn over him through the entire movie.  Like, hey, Gaston, Belle’s not the girl for you.  Marry the triplets.

But of course he has to have the one girl who wants him to get lost.  He has a henchman who is this freakish troll looking dude.  Come to think of it, there are a lot of these short, fat guys in Disney movies. Prince Charming’s father was short and squat.  Likewise, Belle’s father is short and squat.  Luckily Belle apparently took after dead mom in appearance.

Very, very lucky.

Very, very lucky.

Dad is an inventor, except none of his inventions have really worked up until now.  So I’m not exactly sure how he’s supporting them, but whatever.  He gets one working, and so goes off to town to show off his machine and get totally famous, which would be great if he had any directional sense whatsover.  Even the horse knows better than to go down that creepy, clouded road.

But he goes down the creepy road anyway in a storm and gets chased by wolves, and the horse, showing its superior intelligence, runs home.  Dad makes it to a castle that seems deserted.  Very quickly he figures out that it’s not empty, but has a talking clock, candle stick, footstool, tea pot, and cups.  Instead of freaking out, he just tries to figure out where the batteries are and all.  Me?  I’d be taking my chances with the wolves.

Mrs. Potts (she’s the teapot played by Jessica Fletcher from “Murder She Wrote”) asks if he wants a spot of tea.  Uh, not if it comes out of your nose, no, I don’t.  But he does, and he’s feeling lots better at least until the beast shows up.  This is a big surprise to Belle’s Dad.

I'm not drinking from that.

I’m not drinking from that.

I have a question already.  Why is he surprised?  I mean, I’m assuming this prince at one time ruled over this little town, right?  Or his missing parents did.  Yet he’s gone for ten years, and not only does no one investigate this, they totally forget about the guy?  I’d understand if we were talking like a century and the castle was covered by vines and stuff, but this is a pretty short time.  Oh, well.

The Beast’s attitude hasn’t gotten a lot better in the last ten years, though it’s hard to blame him, considering he went through puberty with a LOT more body hair issues than normal.  He yells a lot and throws the old man in a cell.

Meanwhile, Gaston has set up a wedding for Belle, only he hasn’t asked her yet.  But he makes a tempting offer – if she marries him, she gets to be his servant and bear him lots of stupid, strapping sons.  As hard as that is to resist, she tosses him out.  He’s not pleased.  Gaston.  The triplets are right there.  Sigh.

Go for the bimbos, Gaston . . .

Go for the bimbos, Gaston . . .

She’s worried about Dad, so sets off to look for him while Gaston drinks and tosses the triplets around.  Belle’s dad runs in and begs for help saving Belle from a beast.  No one believes him.  But Gaston comes up with a devious plan to get Belle by threatening her father with the loony bin. Good plan.

Belle makes it to the Beast’s castle and the candlestick is all excited because she might be the one who will break the spell!  She’s also the only female human who has entered the house in the past decade, but still!  I can understand the French candle’s desperation.  He’s probably tired of having his head set on fire all the time.

The Beast is no nicer to Belle than the old guy, but when Belle offers to take the guy’s place, he agrees.  He might be a beast, but he’s not stupid.  Girl trumps old sick guy any day.  So Dad is shipped back home by an animated coach (I wonder which servant the coach was?) and Belle is given a nice place in the castle.  See, Belle?  Your prison is, like, nice and comfy!

Oh, hell there . . . arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Oh, hello there . . . arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

The living chest of drawers offers her lots of gowns to choose from.  Interestingly enough, they all fit Belle exactly.  So, then, were these the beast’s mom’s clothes she’s wearing or did he just happen to have women’s clothes there just in case he caught a girl?   I dunno.

Belle refuses to eat dinner with the Beast.  He’s pretty cheesed off about it, but can’t vary well shred her to pieces since she’s his only chance at being human again.  Later, Belle sneaks down and the dining room has a whole production number, serving this one girl every bit of food in the house.  The plates, the silverware, I mean everything is freaking dancing here.  “Be our guest, be out guest, we’re obsessed!”  I’m out of here!

Subtle, as always.

Subtle, as always.

While I like the song, I feel I should point out that the candlestick says the servants are sad because they have no one to wait upon.  That’s messed up.  Whatever.  Belle likes it and somehow the Beast doesn’t pick up on the Broadway number going on downstairs.  She asks for a tour, then curiously sneaks off to the forbidden West Wing. Belle finds the rose that’s supposed to bloom until the prince turns twenty-one, when he becomes a beast forever because karma is really freaking awful in this movie.

The Beast finds her, roars, she freaks, and runs out of the castle.  Wolves try to eat her, and the Beast saves her.  Belle has a chance to run, but she chooses to help the Beast back to the castle.  Some would call this honoring her promise.  Others call it Stockholm Syndrome.  Potato, Po-ta-to.

Unlike most other Disney movies, Belle actually spends a lot more time with the Beast, getting to know him.  Granted, she doesn’t actually have a choice in the matter, but still.  The Beast finds out she likes books and gives her a library, which was there the whole time, but whatever.  Belle’s happy.

They decide to have a date night, and get all dressed up.  Belle wears a beautiful form-fitting gold dress and they shove the Beast into a  suit.  I’m guessing the sewing machine made alterations on his dad’s stuff, or else dad was really freaking huge.  They eat dinner, then go to dance.

This really is an incredible scene.

This really is an incredible scene.

The ballroom scene is computer animated.  Remember this is back when computer animation was still fairly new.  And it’s breathtaking, the camera panning around the shining floors and the painted ceilings as they dance.  And the song is great too, even if it is sung by a tea-pot.  It’s not hard to believe that this movie was the only animated film ever to be nominated for a Best Picture Oscar.  It didn’t win, but boy did the nomination annoy a lot of the human actors.  Ha.

After the dance, the Beast asks if she’s happy, you know, being his prisoner and all.  And Belle’s like yes, because let’s face it her hometown kind of sucked, but she misses her father.  He shows her this magic mirror he uses to spy on, er, observe the world around him.  Belle sees her father acting like the useless doofus he is, and begs to go to him.  The Beast hesitates, probably thinking about how in a few days he’s gonna doom himself to being a beast AND let’s not forget, doom his staff to be furniture and kitchen appliances.

But he loves her, so he lets her go, cause if she comes back it’s meant to be, and if she doesn’t, you hunt her down and kill her.  Wait, no.  Sorry.  That’s Gaston’s method of love hunting.  When Belle returns, Gaston threatens to send Dad to the loony bin if she doesn’t marry him.  The Beast gave Belle the magic mirror, so Belle decides to prove the beast is real by showing Gaston the Beast in the magic mirror.  The beast is in the process of belting out a Meatloaf song, so he looks pretty freaky.

I would do anything for love . . . .

I would do anything for love . . . .

Bad move.  Gaston decides they must go kill the Beast!  Luckily, it’s not hard to stir up this stupid town into getting their pitchforks.  They have been seriously bored for too long.  Belle says he’s really kind, and Gaston asks if she has feelings for this Beast, and Belle’s a bit confused because she’s never been into relationships with animals before.  She does point out to Gaston that the Beast isn’t the monster, he is.  Oooh, snap.  Still, Gaston shuts her and the Dad up and goes off with his crew to kill the beast.

With the help of the stupid tea-cup and the Dad’s invention, they manage to chop their way out of the cellar.  There’s another storm, of course, and Gaston meets up with the Beast who puts up no fight while Gaston shoots arrows into him.  Meanwhile, the dishes and forks and stuff fight off the villagers in the only battle ever sponsored by Pier One.

When the Beast sees Belle, he fights back, and almost drops Gaston off the castle, but lets him go.  Gaston pays him back by knifing him in the back, but stumbles, and has yet another convenient Disney plummet death.  No blood, no fuss!

The Beast is dying, and Belle’s sad, and she says I love you, and then stuff starts getting really trippy.  In this big burst of light the Beast is transformed into the prince.  I’m not impressed.  I kind of thought the Beast was cooler.  Oh, well.  All the servants turn back into themselves, and the prince and Belle dance.  There will be time to find an entire castle worth of new furniture later.

You were a lot more interesting as the beast . . .

You were a lot more interesting as the beast . . .

How is it different from the original tale?  It’s actually closer than many of the Disney movies, but has its differences.  The girl’s name is Beauty and her father is a merchant down on his luck.  He gets a promising lead and so asks the girls what they want.  The sisters are all get me everything, but Beauty’s like oh, just a rose, figuring that’s simple and all.  Nope.  The Dad picks the rose from the Beast’s garden.  The Beast tells the Dad to return shortly, unless he can get someone to go in his place.

Dutiful martyr Beauty insists that she go, and the sisters are all, yeah, totally send her, cause they went to the same mean girl school as Cinderella’s stepsisters.  Beauty goes, and eventually falls in love with the Beast, but asks to go visit her home.  Beast sends her with lots of bling, and the sisters keep talking her into staying longer and longer.  When Beauty finally returns, Beast is dying, but she saves him with those same three words.

This is easily my favorite Disney movie of all.  What did you think of it?  If you had to be a household object, what would you choose?

Strange Addictions: Night of the Living Dolls

The Ludicrous Channel!

The Ludicrous Channel!

Good news, or bad, depending on how you look at it.  I happened to catch “Strange Addictions” when it randomly showed up Tuesday night.  This episode?  People who want to be dolls.  Now, you know a show is really bad when this sounds incredibly normal.  I haven’t watched all of these – some are just clips or commercials – but so far they’ve covered people who eat:

toilet paper



cat hair

And then there’s the people who have relationships with inanimate objects such as:

a car

inflatable animals

baby dolls they treat like real babies

Speaking of babies, there’s also the people who like to actually BE babies, complete with sleeping in a crib and, yes, wearing diapers.  I don’t even . . . anyway, so when I heard living dolls, I was like, aw, that’s not so bad.  I mean as long as they can distinguish fantasy from reality and . . . oh . . . nevermind.

First up is Ken, a fitting name since the guy wants to actually be a Ken doll.  I can’t imagine why any guy would want this.  I can’t even imagine why Barbie would want him.  He’s boring, he’s generic, he has no reproductive parts, and he’s made of plastic.  But, turns out, that’s what Ken really likes about him!  Yay!

I paused it, and got that triangle on his nose, and decided to leave it.

I paused it, and got that triangle on his nose, and decided to leave it.

Ken has had 25 plastic surgeries, and he looks like he’s still in his twenties.  Nose jobs, eyebrow lifts (he has a perpetual look of surprise), pectoral implants (I didn’t realize these existed except on Batman Halloween costumes) and so on.  TLC films him visiting another plastic surgeon who, after hearing he’s had 25 surgeries and wants more, looks at him kind of like this.

Pretty much how I looked too.

Pretty much how I looked too.

But it gets weirder, guys!  See he not only wants these implants, he designs the suckers.  He’s an artist!  So he designs the silicone he wants stuck under his skin in a surgical operation.  Personally, I think the guy’s had too much anesthesia.  So does the surgeon.  He says “You want this ideal . . . but it’s of a cartoon.”  Ken just says, nanner, I’ll find someone else, and goes back to his dream house.  Or something.

Next up is Emily.  She wants to be a doll too, but not a Barbie, that was another show.  (Like duh!) She wants to be some kind of rag doll type thing only with a wig and tall stockings and . . . the best I can come up with is Pedo dressing.  Cause you look like a little girl, but you’re not, so it’s okay, only it’s still kind of gross.  Or something.  It’s a big thing in Japan, and apparently there is anime that uses this theme and . . . to be honest I don’t know that much about Japanese culture. Except that these guys are probably the only country that can rival us in terms of outright weird.

From the TLC website: Dressing like this gives her confidence.  Ooookay.

From the TLC website: Dressing like this gives her confidence. Ooookay.

You know, if she just say wore this stuff at home in her spare time, whatevs.  People do all sorts of unusual stuff in their spare time, like reenacting the Civil War, or Medieval Times, or taking selfies for Facebook.  But this girl is tired of being in the closet, and wants everyone to accept her for who she is.  Noble intentions there, Emily, but somehow going job hunting dressed like that is really not the way to go.  The sad part of it is that she wants to be a doll because she doesn’t like herself as she is normally.  Ken liked himself a bit too much, but her not enough.

And then we have Venus.  No, that’s really her name.  She is sixteen, so dressing up like a doll is not quite as bizarre, cause she’s at least a little closer to actual childhood.  Shut up, this reasoning makes me feel better.  Anyway, what is odd is that her mother is very supportive of this, to the point that she spends a lot of money filming the kid for Youtube, where she is a famous star.  Granted, Muffy the kitten who plays with string is also a famous Youtube star, but I digress.  This girl has fans.  Who ask her to sign autographs, and talk about how she inspires them.  By – being a doll?  I’m not getting it.  On the plus side, she did get to go to Japan and be a model for their dolly clothing line, so at least she’s getting paid for being weird.

Think twice before saying your kid is cute as a little doll!

Think twice before saying your kid is cute as a little doll!

So that was this week’s episode.  Dolls.  Bonus if you caught that they were playing the theme to the Sims in the background.  Next week?  People who eat make-up.  I wonder if they prefer Cover Girl or Maybelline.

So what do you guys think?  Is dressing up like a doll weird or no?  Let me know in the comments section.  Do you do weird stuff when no one is looking?  Nevermind, I don’t want to know.

E.R. Shenanigans!

Dun dun dunnnnnnn

Dun dun dunnnnnnn

So I checked the TLC poll again, and not counting that crazy book idea (I did make it through part of Ladies Home Journal), “Strange Addictions” won followed by “Sex Sent Me to the ER”.  TLC has the most screwed up schedule ever, which fits with the programming but makes it hard to keep up with.  Instead of, say, having an episode at the same time each week, they have multiple episodes of the same show.  So basically the line up can look like this:

7:00: Cake Boss

8:00: Cake Boss

9:00: Cake Boss

10:00: More Cake Boss

11:00: Even more freaking Cake Boss

11:30: How do this many cakes exist?

What this means is it’s hard to catch when the shows are on.  But I did manage to catch “Sex Sent Me to the ER”, so I figured, why not cover that and “Strange Addictions”?  I did not consult my brain in this matter.

I like the addition of the ambulance.  Sexy!

I like the addition of the ambulance. Sexy!

“Sex Sent Me to the ER” (on first writing I wrote “Sex in the ER”, which is a totally different show.  It’s called “Grey’s Anatomy”) airs late Saturday night.  I ended up missing bits here and there – it might have been my synapses snapping.  But it’s pretty easy to get the gist of things.  Sex.  Injury.  E.R.  Maybe they should make teenagers watch this show to prevent pregnancies.

The first idiot is a musician with sideburns from the 60s.  I hate him already.  He brags about how wild his sex life with his girlfriend is, and to show this, TLC has the bottom of a bed bouncing up and down and making pictures fall from the ceiling. Ah, so this is like 50 Shades sex.  I get it.  If only Ana and Christian had ended up in the E.R.  But I digress.

This guy.  Yeah.

This guy. Yeah.

So they are making the whoopie and he has a huge orgasm and as a bonus, a stroke!  The fun thing is, he’s too stupid to realize this.  He can hardly move his left side, but figures, hey, pinched nerve.  Yeah, um, that’s one hell of a nerve you have there, man.  He puts off going to the hospital until he’s unable to play his guitar (the horror).  Finally he and girlfriend arrive at the ER and the receptionist asks how he injured himself.

Cue sad trombone: wah wah waaaaaaaaah.

He says “Having sex.  It happened during an orgasm.  It was a doozy!”  The woman looks at him the same way I would, like she’d like to injure his other side.  He gets examined, and the doctor says he had a stroke even though he’s only 40.  The fact that he has smoked since he was NINE combined with bouncy sex resulted in a blood clot getting dislodged.  Remember that, kids.  Sex = stroke.

Next up, “the 400 pound virgin” (they actually title the different segments this way – haha witty TLC!) finally gets a girl.  A rather tiny girl, so I’m imagining all sorts of possibilities here.  Does she get trapped in the rolls of skin?  Is she literally smashed into the bedsheets?  Does she suffocate?  Turns out, none of the above.  He merely pushes her head through the wall.

I can see why the girl was attracted at once.

I can see why the girl was attracted at once.

At first he’s afraid he’s killed her.  They show the real couple laughing about it.  Haha, remember that time you nearly accidentally murdered me?  Oh, fun times.  But she’s alive, just a little out of it, since she asks him  why he stopped.  Um.  There’s sheet rock in your hair, lady.

They go to the ER.  She has a concussion, but prospects are good since she doesn’t seem like a mental giant anyway.  The guy went on to lose a lot of weight since that encounter.  Maybe he was motivated by the girl saying no more nookie until you stop using me as a jackhammer.

Finally, we have the guy with the fractured penis.  Neat fact: There are no bones in a penis, but you can still fracture it!  And it apparently hurts like hell!  Go figure.  He’s there with his girlfriend while the doctor examines him and then dun dun dun – who comes in the room but his wife?

Cute sad trombone: wah wah waaaaaah

I may be using this a lot.

I may be using this a lot.

But it’s okay, because they all know each other and everything.  Apparently the whole thing happened because the guy and the girlfriend were getting it on in the laundry room when the wife decided to join in.   Then things went awry.  An ironing board landed smack on his peen and made a major ouchie, resulting in the trip to the ER.

Surgeon General’s Warning: Three-ways in laundry rooms may result in fractured penises.

Anyway, while the girlfriend and the wife know each other, they don’t always like each other, judging by how quickly they get in a drop down, drag out fight right there in the ER.  A wig is yanked off.  This is like an episode of Jerry Springer, only with less class.  They break up the fight, and the husband tells them to make up.  They do – by making out.  This is uncomfortable enough for everyone, even the husband who gets excited which is a bad thing with a broken manhood.  But it gets worse: Wife bites girlfriend’s tongue, resulting in another injury.  Oops.

Totally appropriate for the E.R.

Totally appropriate for the E.R.

The doctor is working with a medical student who at this point is probably reconsidering her career.  The wife suggests they just put the penis in a splint and be done with it, but apparently it’s a wee bit more complicated than that.  It involves surgery, which still would have to be better than walking around with a stick attached to your, well, anyway.

The show finally ends, or I guess it did, since I missed the last few minutes because snore.  But there is your recap, and I do hope, like the medical student, you have learned some valuable lessons.  Don’t have sex.  Like, ever.

Seventeen Again

Yup, I’m seventeen.  Well maturity wise.  Well, actually more like thirteen, but we’ll bump it up to seventeen for the heck of it.  Just yesterday I saw a post by the awesome Becky about turning 29 and feeling old.  Beck, I don’t remember 29.  I think the last thing I remember was turning 24, right after my first daughter was born, and then BAM suddenly I’m 37.  I have no idea how that happened.

Anyway, I also happened to see a post by Sarah, formerly Combat Girl, who took a quiz from Seventeen magazine to find out what sort of feminist she was.  Well, I was all up in that, cause I love taking quizzes, especially somewhat pointless ones.  So I took it, and, shock, I’m a liberal feminist.  I know, your jaws are on the freaking floor, amiright?

Who is this girl on the cover?  And who named her?

Who is this girl on the cover? And who named her?

But, you guys, there were more quizzes, and they were about very important topics.  Like, not just what dress do I want to wear to prom, but what perfume should go along with it?  Crap, I had no idea there were so many decisions.  Yes, I realize I am not seventeen and so this is not supposed to concern me, but honestly, I wasn’t a very good teenager.  While I did pick out a prom dress, I didn’t take a quiz to find out – I sort of tried it on. And I didn’t once think about wearing perfume, because it makes me cough.

But there are other topics, don’t worry.  There are Twilight quizzes, vampire quizzes, “does he like me” quizzes, boyfriend quizzes, love tests, quizzes about love, and quizzes for girls.  Like, um, what guy is reading seventeen magazine?  Come to think of it, what girl is?  Apparently me.  So I took some of the quizzes, because otherwise I’d have to do something, like, productive.

What earth shattering revelations will I discover?

What earth shattering revelations will I discover?

I wasn’t for sure what the difference was between vampire quizzes and Twilight quizzes since, Zomg, Edward is the only vampire and he is so sparkly!  And I was right.  When I selected “vampire quizzes”, they were all about Twilight. Go figure.  So I took one.

Quiz: Are You Team Edward or Team Jacob? (Take this quiz to find out which supernatural Twilight  man is right for you!)

How about neither?  Okay, here are the questions.  Some of the multiple choice answers were condensed by yours truly.

1. Can you keep a secret?

a. I try, but I open my yap too much

b. yes, for 100 years, do you get it?

My answer: Depends.  Are we talking about keeping a vampire secret?  Because I’m pretty sure I’d out Edward and put his disco ball butt right out in the sunshine.

2. Do you believe in love at first sight?

a. Maybe, when you find the right person it will be forever!

b. Absolutely!  Some things are meant to be!

Now I didn’t change the wording in those answers that much.  The choices really are between maybe and absolutely, even though the maybe even seems to also be a yes.  So – yes or yes, girls?

The quiz goes on to ask what my personality flaw is.  I’m thinking the fact that I actually read these books, but I have a choice between not taking myself seriously, and not being myself.  Again, aren’t both of those pretty close to the same thing?  I’m starting to get suspicious.

Next it’s do you take risks, how do you act when you’re angry (if I act like a jerk, I’m perfect for either of them), and when making decisions am I guided by emotion or logic?  Strike out for logic, there wasn’t any in the book.  I’m not sure which guy is supposed to be the logical one here.  Anyway, I randomly put in answers and got Team Jacob.  Woot.

Jacob In A Can  by Thing Two

Jacob In A Can
by Thing Two
(note the strategically placed peppermint)

I figured I’d move on to real life boyfriends, or as real as they get in high school (think Gucci purse to match your pumps), so I chose “Boyfriend  Quizzes”.  Wow, so many to choose from.  Am I too close to him, too far away, should I dump him, should we make out, should I just go read a book and forget about guys for a while – okay I made that last one up.  I then checked out “Love Quizzes”, which had boyfriend quizzes.  Then I looked up “Quizzes for Girls”, and – surprise – more stuff about boyfriends.  So – teens have no other issues?  Good to know!

Of course, some of this stuff made me feel even more ancient.  Like, I know a lot of the shorthand, like OMG, and FYI and especially WTF.  But explain to me this sentence.

Who’s your 1D BGF?

It’s a quiz, peeps, and I don’t even understand what the quiz is asking.  I certainly don’ t know the answer.  This really IS just like high school.  But what the heck.  I clicked on it, and it turns out 1D is shorthand for  One Direction, the boy group no one gives a crap about, not even a lot teen girls.  Seventeen says:

You already know your 1D love match, but you have to admit, the guys also seem like they’d be fun friends. Which member would you mesh most with? Take the quiz to find out whether Zayn, Liam, Louis, Niall, or Harry would be your best guy friend.
Yeah, um, these guys.  How to choose???

Yeah, um, these guys. How to choose???

Oh, so I get it.  BGF is “best guy friend”.  I thought it was “big groovy ferret.”  I think I’d prefer that.  But gosh, how will I know whether Zayn, Liam, Louis, Niall, or Harry will be the pal for me?  I think I can mark off Zayn right away because, seriously, that is not the way you spell Zane.  And Niall – I have no idea if that’s spelled right, because I have never heard of it before.  So I was down to three before I started the quiz, but then they asked if you liked the “classic” Thriller, and they just lost me right there.  I don’t think I’m going to date a boy band.

So I turned to personality quizzes.  I can find out if about all sorts of personalities I didn’t know existed.  Like fitness personality (lazy), study personality, party personality, shoe personality, and Halloween candy personality.  And, of course, bra personality.  (I’m not making any of these up.)  I wanted to find out my bra personality – Double D?  Strapless? Those cone things Madonna wears on her boobs?  Well, I clicked on it, and got an error.  Now I will never know.  Sigh.

So, honey, do you think this fits my personality?

So, honey, do you think this fits my personality?

I have to say, after researching this fascinating magazine, I feel older, but I really don’t care.  You could not pay me to go back to seventeen.  Now the body and health of one, sure, but not actually going back there.  I’m actually fairly happy where I am right now.

But maybe I should take a quiz to make sure.

Behind the Fairy Tale: The Little Mermaid

mermaid poster

Ah, The Little Mermaid.  Before I start properly trashing this movie, I must admit that when it first came out, I loved it.  I was also twelve-years-old, so take that as you will.  It was the first full length fairy tale animated feature since Sleeping Beauty, so it was a pretty big deal.  There were some great songs, the best ones being sung by a crab – “Under the Sea” and “Kiss the Girl”.  Finally, the girl had a great name.  I still believe Ariel is one of the most beautiful names ever.

But looking back at it now, I have a few questions.  Oh, what am I saying?  I have a LOT of questions.  First of all, how do mermaids go to the bathroom?  Oh, come on, you know you’ve thought of it.  For that matter, how are, um, little mermaids made?  I’m just not seeing it. I’d say they lay eggs, but if you’ll look closely, you’ll see that under her cross- your-heart mollusks, Ariel has a definite belly button.  They never get into this in the movie, but Ariel’s parents were obviously fertile, having seven daughters and all.  Weirdly, they all seem to be exactly the same age too, though Ariel is supposed to be the youngest.

Okay, it's tiny, but note that is a definite belly button.  WTF.

Okay, it’s tiny, but note that is a definite belly button. WTF.

You know how the youngest sibling is almost always the brattiest?  I can say this because I am the youngest sibling.  They’re always getting away with stuff, because cute, right?  Ariel is no different.  On the day of her first concert in front of the whole fishy kingdom, where is she?  Goofing off with a fish appropriately named Flounder.  That’s like naming your dog “dog”.  But whatever.  She’s off exploring a sunken sea ship, in an area known for sharks, and tells her buddy “Oh, don’t be such a guppy!”  So, what, guppies are like second class citizens here?  Also, I’m gonna have to side with Flounder on this one.  Hanging around in shark infested waters sounds pretty stupid.

And it is, as she is chased by a shark and narrowly makes her escape.  Only after her first near-death experience of the movie does she remember her concert.  Oh, d’oh!  Daddy, King Tritan, is super cheesed off, so assigns Sebastian the crab to babysit.  I’m not exactly sure what Sebastion’s actual job is besides say conducting fish orchestras, but I’m thinking babysitting is not what he was hired for..  I’d be asking for a transfer if I got that kid, personally.

See now THAT'S his job.  Get out, Sebastian, get out now!

See now THAT’S his job. Get out, Sebastian, get out now!

He sucks it up, though, and tries to convince her that living underwater is best with such wisdoms as “It’s bettah down where it’s wettah.”.  Hey, I’m convinced.  Ariel is not, and wanders off while he’s doing his whole big production number. Um, rude!  She sees a human ship and decides, HEY, how about I go check that out?  This makes even less sense when you consider that in a prequel to the movie, we see that her mother is killed by a human ship.  But no one said Ariel was exactly tops when it comes to common sense.

So she hangs out on the side of the ship and spies Prince Eric and his extremely small crew dancing around and bazinga – true love.  Oh, I forgot to mention she has another extremely annoying friend, Scuttle the sea gull, who identifies all her human “treasures”.  But he gets them all wrong, cause he’s a freaking sea gull with a pebble for a brain.  He thinks Eric’s dog is a human, a fork is a comb, and that you can find a pulse in someone’s foot.  I really hated that bird.

Hate that bird.  Haaaate him.

Hate that bird. Haaaate him.

There is, predictably, a storm, and the tiny ship is tossed, and so is Prince Eric.  Ariel rescues him and brings him to the beach, where she sings a song about how much she wants to like, totally be part of his world, even though she just met the guy.  At no point does she wonder about any of her, say, friends.  You know, the crab, or the fish, or even the stupid bird that hang out with her all the time.  Nope, it’s all about the guy.

He starts to wake up, so she hops back in the water.  Now she’s more determined than ever to become human.  As Sebastian says “the sea-weed is always greener in somebody else’s lake.”  She goes to her secret hiding place, a grotto where she keeps all her human junk.  Holy crap, Ariel’s a hoarder!  Her favorite thing is her most recent acquisition, a statue of Prince Eric that sank from the boat.  She has a big singing number and starts talking to the statue.  Fortunately, Tritan intervenes before it gets super weird.  Sebastian told him about her little visit with the humans, and he’s understandably ticked off.  I mean, he’s just trying to keep the kid from killing herself.  Still, he kinda loses it, blasting all her junk to smithereens.  Look, Tritan, I’ve watched the show, and this is not going to cure her habit.  Oh, well.

This week on Hoarders . . .

This week on Hoarders . . .

Cue Ursula the sea witch, who takes this opportunity to play the “good guy” and offer Ariel everything she ever wanted!  She can be human, but there’s just a few little details like she has to get wooden headed Eric to fall in love with her in three days, and oh yeah, she can’t talk because the witch is taking her voice.  Ursula (who is one of my favorite baddies) has an awesome song convincing Ariel, with such gems as “And she who holds her tongue who gets a man!”  Yeah, like what guy wants a girl to talk?  Just look pretty, Ariel, that’s all ya need!  I mean, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White weren’t even conscious, and they got their true loves, so why not?  Facepalm.

Ariel goes along with it, of course, and is transformed into a human.  So her buddies help her up to the surface where she has this great Flashdance moment of flinging her hair back, and then they clothe her in a ship’s sail so she’s not nakey.  Poor Sebastian.  He knows he’s gonna get his shell kicked for this, so he has to try to help the kid win her man.  Sebastian, dude, get a resume and quick.

What a feeeeeling!

What a feeeeeling!

Eric finds her and takes her back to the castle.  He’s been looking for that chick with the beautiful voice that saved his life.  He’s totes in love with her, cause she sings pretty, and really, what more do you need?  Yet Ariel can’t be that person, cause she’s mute.  Still, she’s cute and apparently Eric doesn’t have a lot of other girls competing for him.  He doesn’t even seem to have parents, and yet he’s a prince.  I’m not sure what that’s all about.

They eat dinner together, and Ariel brushes her hair with her fork while everyone stares at her like she’s freaking insane.  She puts the fork down sheepishly, no doubt thinking about how she’s going to shove the fork into that stupid sea gull’s eye.  Then Eric takes her on a tour of the castle, and a romantic boat ride.  Sebastian gets together with a bunch of other sea life and they sing the song “Kiss the Girl”.  Super subtle there, guys.  What I do love is how the scene gets bigger, and bigger, and bigger with more and more sea creatures coming out of the woodwork to sing along, and yet Eric doesn’t seem to notice.

Yo, Eric, uh, anything unusual around you?  No?

Yo, Eric, uh, anything unusual around you? No?

He’s all ready to kiss her, maybe so the song will stop, when Ursula’s henchmen eels turn the boat over.  Ursula is ticked. “The little tramp – she’s better than I thought.”  Ah, Disney, I do love your family films!  She disguises herself as a human and with Ariel’s voice in a shell necklace, walks right in and hypnotizes poor, dopey Eric.  They board a wedding ship – of course there’s a wedding ship – and the stupid sea gull realizes that the girl is actually Ursula (well, duh) and so Ariel with the help of the friends she’s put in danger countless times, goes off to rescue him again.

She almost succeeds, but then time runs out, she becomes a mermaid, and Ursula takes off with her.  Ursula tells Tritan she’ll give him back his daughter if he’ll just give her his trident.  You know, the thing Tritan uses to control THE ENTIRE FREAKING OCEAN.  No biggie.  Yo, Tritan, you’ve got six other kids, and we’re talking the lives of thousands of merpeople and fish and whatnot and really you should consider . . . crap, you just gave her the trident.  Brilliant.

Oh, good one, Tritan.

Oh, good one, Tritan.

So Ursula goes all power crazy and starts stirring up the ocean, and she’s having a really great time until Eric rams his ship through her.  And that’s all I’m gonna say about that imagery.  Ursula is dead, and Tritan gets the kingdom back (I’m sure his subjects were all thrilled he was willing to lay it all on the line for the little brat) and he decides to turn his daughter into a human like she always wanted so that she can be with her true love.  On the plus side, he doesn’t have to put up with her anymore.  On the other hand, what if she realizes marriage is really pretty boring and she sees some cute merguy and decides she wants to be a mermaid again?  Let’s face it, Ariel’s never really been one for having a lot of forethought into these things.   Oh, well.

So they get married, the end, happy ever after. But there’s still some questions.  Once Ariel marries Eric, does she eat her former fishy friends?  I mean, Sebastian was nearly killed by the French chef in a slightly disturbing musical number involving a bunch of cleavers.  Or does she stick to an all-seaweed diet?  I’d think she’d have to, cause cannibalism is really not very Disney-like.

First thing, fire the insane French chef.

First thing, fire the insane French chef.

Now the movie was far from perfect, but keep in mind it was based on the tale by Hans Christian Anderson, the author best known for making all his readers want to kill themselves by the story’s end. In the original Little Mermaid, she gives up her voice to be human, but the prince marries someone else anyway, and her sisters give up their hair for a knife for her to kill the prince with, thus allowing her to become a mermaid again. Instead, the noble mermaid kills herself and gets to go to Heaven.

You see Andersen's name and you know you're in for happy!

You see Andersen’s name and you know you’re in for happy!

Okay, so I realize that the lesson here is that you can’t be someone you’re not, and don’t’ give away your voice, and these are very important lessons that are totally thrown out in the Disney version.  On the other hand, who the heck would have wanted to see that version?  It sucks!  I mean, if I were the mermaid, I’d have knifed old princey and gotten my tail back, but either way, you can’t say it’s suitable for children.  Or even adults.  So I still say I prefer the Disney version because if I want reality, I’ll just watch the news.

But that’s just my take on it.  What do you think of the movie?  Is there another Disney flick you’d like me to cover next?

Oops, I did it again

I missed another blogging milestone.  My 400th post was like five posts ago.  Now that’s either really impressive, or kind of sad in that I haven’t seen the sun in so long I’m almost as white as Edward, but not as sparkly.  I’m going with impressive.  Woot.  And to further celebrate this achievement, I have made a doodle for everyone.  No, not that kind of doodle, this one.

Look at meeee!

Look at meeee!

If you’ll notice, I made it in patriotic colors, so that you would all know I am an Amer-i-can.  I am so hot, I write the word color without the “u”.  Speaking of weird letters, that’s a four up there, not a “y”, though I realize it looks a little more like I’m saying Yoo than 400.  Let’s see what my pals have to say about my milestone.

Yeah, post it, what difference does it make?  Sighhhhhhhhhhhh.

Yeah, post it, what difference does it make? Sighhhhhhhhhhhh.

Thanks, Sad Pony, I can always count on your support!

Alice made 400 posts and i just ate 400 nuts all at one time and now I think I'm gonna explodes all over the place so watch out!

Alice made 400 posts and I just ate 400 snickers bars to celebrate and now I think I’m gonna ‘splode all over the place!

Please do so outside, in the trees, Squirrel.  Ignore that couple up there.

Has anyone seen our mother???

Has anyone seen our mother???

Haha, aren’t my Things cute.  Now get away from the computer, Momma’s busy.

In honor of your milestone, I am going to give Ana 400 smackings!

Christian: In honor of your milestone, I am going to give Ana 400 smackings!
Ana: Yay!

Both of you, go away.  And quit haunting my nightmares too.

Get down and do 400 push-ups now, Alice!  NOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOW!

Get down and do 400 push-ups now, Alice! NOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOW!

Holy Crap, who let her in?  I think that’s enough celebrating for now.  I also have an update on the TLC poll.  So far “My Secret Addiction” is edging out “Sex put me in the ER” by just one vote!  Okay, so the most votes went to “Read a book” but pfft, like THAT’S gonna happen.   Anyway, I realized I should have also added an Other category, because several people brought up other incredibly insipid shows including “Sister Wives”, “Secret Princes”, “Gypsy Sister Weddings”, “Morons from Hades”, etc.  Oh, the decisions!  Anyway, if there’s one you want more than another, be sure and vote, even if you’re voting twice.  I don’t think the poll notices.  Or you can always put in your write-in vote.

I haven’t forgotten about my Behind the Fairy Tale series.   Stay tuned for “The Little Mermaid”, a story about everyone’s favorite bubblehead.

Anyway, have you guys reached any insignificant milestones lately?  Tell me in the comments below!

Alice Watches TLC

Reality T.V.  Just the name conquers up images of high-quality programming, doesn’t it?  Haha.  Of course it doesn’t.  Reality TV is sort of like the Sarah Palins and Anthony Weiners of the political world.  I mean, most of TV is pretty stupid and corrupt, but there are some shows much worse than others.  And if you want to see the very worst of the very worst, look no further than TLC.

These letters should really be WTF.

These letters should really be WTF.

Since I consider myself highly sophisticated, you can often find the last channel I watched was TLC.  That stands for “The Learning Channel” but really all you learn about is just how low humanity can go.  If there is ever a 50 Shades reality show (yes, I know, I shouldn’t be giving this woman ideas), it will be on this station.  I haven’t found it yet, but I’ve gotten pretty close.

Most people have heard of MTV’s “16 and Pregnant” and “Teen Mom” but TLC has “My Teen is Pregnant and So Am I”.  Take that, MTV.  Why have just one irresponsible person when you can have two!  Or how about an entire family?  Try “Here Comes Honey-Boo-Boo.”  We saw her first on “Toddlers and Tiaras”, also a TLC show that featured psychotic mothers dressing their children up like tiny prostitutes so that their children could earn trophies and their love.  One of the stars was Honey-Boo-Boo, a child from a redneck family with caked on makeup, hair extensions, and a diet consisting of go-go juice, a combination of Red Bull and Mountain Dew.  Sure we knew about her, but what about her charming family?  Well, say no more!  There’s a whole show about them!  Isn’t that great?

Stay classy, TLC

Stay classy, TLC

But, hey, don’t worry, they’ve got wholesome too.  How about “19 Kids and Counting”, the show about the fundamentalist Christian family, the Duggers!  They now have 19 children, and all of them shot right out of the mom’s uterus, as she proudly states in the opening credits!  Because birth control kills babies!  Or something!  How does she do it, you wonder?  Well, it helps to have older children who are forced to raise the younger ones while you and your husband are off busily workin’ on number 20, just like the Bible said to do.

Wait, now - which one were you again?

Wait, now – which one were you again?

How does all this stuff happen?  I mean, we know how babies come into the world, thanks to “A Baby Story” which is kind enough to film women straining and screaming and pushing out babies to our heart’s delight.  But how do the babies get made?  Don’t worry, they also show that.  They have a new show called “Sex Sent Me to the ER”.  No, seriously, it’s a show.  The first episode featured a couple who decided it’d be a good idea to have sex in a tree.

I can’t see anything possibly going wrong with this scenario, can you?

I can’t see anything possibly going wrong with this scenario, can you? (credit huffington post)

They kind of spoil the ending, what with the title having the word “E.R.” in it.  The guy falls out of the tree and apparently breaks his manhood.  What’s really great about this is not only was this couple stupid enough to do this once, they were then willing to reenact it for television.  So it’s pretty clear that not all of us fully evolved from monkeys.  There is a reason we no longer do this act in trees, you morons.  Check out the video here at this site.

I was going to finish the post on that note, cause stupid tree sex seems like a good way to go out and all, but then I saw this post on Facebook about a woman eating a diaper.  It has to have pee in it.  No, I’m not kidding.  This was from a show called “My Secret Addiction.”  Guess what channel has this highly scientific show?  Three letters, guys, and they ain’t CNN.  Under the Facebook post, someone wrote “This is why aliens won’t contact us.”  Oh, so true.

I'm thinking this might be the diaper for her.

I’m thinking this might be the diaper for her.

So why do I watch this channel?  Why did I read 50 Shades?  I apparently have some sort of masochistic tendencies.  And a slew of other issues.  I’m not sure all of what’s wrong, but maybe I’ll find out if I watch enough TLC.  As long as I’m doing this anyway, is there a show you’d like me to recap?  I’ll try out this voter thingy, and see what ya think.

Independence Day

“Talk about your revolution.  It’s Independence Day.”

         Martina McBride


Recently, I’ve come to know some new bloggers.  I’ve also gotten to know some better than I did before.  And that’s because someone spoke out.  Her name is Calamity Rae.  She writes about abuse, and how people are bullied into being quiet.  She’s not being quiet anymore.

“Some folks whispered and some folks talked

  But everybody looked the other way.”

How often do we do this?  I don’t like confrontation, I really don’t.  In fact, I’m actually much less brave as myself than I am as Alice.  But Alice and the writer behind her are not so far apart.  We get closer everyday, and I get braver every day.  You see, I’m generally a very meek person.  Don’t laugh, I really am.  When I am picked on, I get quiet.  I let it happen.  I am the perfect victim, because bullies know they can get away with it.  They know I’ll be too afraid to confront them, especially when they hold some sort of power.  And that, my friends, is how they get even more power.  Silence.

A little over a year ago, I became friends, or I thought I did, with a blogger.  He called himself Le Clown.  Do you know how hard it was to type that sentence right there, to point out that name?  Again, I hate confrontation.  And I will not bring this subject up again.  I know it’s exhausted.  But I also know that I will not feel right until I give my view on it.

We met during a blogroll contest.  It was goofy and a lot of fun.  So many people got into it.  You see, his blog was like this big virtual playground.  People met, got to know one another, followed each other, became friends.  Friends built around one figure, this benevolent guy who promoted other people.  After jumping through dozens of weird hoops, along with others so it wasn’t quite so strange, I actually made it onto his coveted blogroll.  I only did so with the help of other bloggers.  People liked me, and gave me their clown noses.  Yeah, that’s how the points were counted.

He seemed like a genuinely nice, funny guy.  Maybe he was and he changed.  I don’t really know for sure.  But things started changing when he was freshly pressed, and quickly afterward, so were many of his circle.  I was once a part of that circle, but I did not get the honor several others were getting.  It stung a little, but I tried to be a good sport about it.  Then I saw a blogger who’d been pressed for the fourth time, and her attitude about it was atrocious.  She basically yawned about the honor so many wanted.  So I wrote a post about it, mostly stating that I felt like WordPress should give the many other great writers a chance first, before going with the same few people over and over.

This displeased the clown.  He let me know in a comment.  It was the first negative comment I’d ever gotten, and it wasn’t the only one.  I took down my post and put up one explaining why.  Then I got people who said “Hey, why take it down?  You have a right to your opinion.”  So I decided to put it back up.  Okay, it wasn’t my proudest day, but I figured, no big deal.

Oh, but it was a big deal.  I got an email right after from Le Clown that stated that I had just been defriended on facebook, and my blog unfollowed.  He said I made him uncomfortable, and that I was rude, not funny.  It was like someone had pulled the rug out from under me.  Here I thought I had found a fun, safe place to be.  And then someone I admired, someone I trusted, just told me my writing was no longer for him. But not just that.  He told me I was bothering him somehow, and had been for a while.  .  It made me feel horrible.  I was not only a lousy writer, I was some annoying gnat that bothered him?

I have depression.  My writing is too much a part of me, but it’s the most important thing in my life, and always has been.  I don’t blame him for my depression, or for my identifying too much with my art.  But his words did set off a depressive spiral that took a long time to return from.  In fact, I don’t think I ever felt over it until Rae wrote her post.

You see, after I was dumped from the “cool table”, I continued to follow his followers.  So many of his friends were my friends.  I saw him honor them with guest posts and other accolades.  Each time it felt like a dart to the heart.  Why wasn’t I included?  What had I done that was so wrong?  Other people said stuff far worse than I ever had.  Why was he mad at me?  How had my writing become bad so suddenly?

I wanted to talk to someone, and I tried a couple of people, but they all had the same opinion.  Shut up.  No one will believe you over him.  It will sound like sour grapes.  He’s too powerful, has too many followers.  So I did shut up, and I kept it all inside.  And it threatened to swallow me whole.

I know I sound overdramatic, and I know that I have not gone through anything truly terrible like so many others have.  I have several blogger friends who write about abuse they’ve suffered, abuse no one should ever have to endure.  Some stay anonymous out of fear, rightly felt, that their abuser might find them again.  Some choose to show themselves.  I admire these people so much.  I don’t think I could be that strong in their situation.

But the sad thing is that there are those who prey on those who have already been victimized.  They have radars.  They spot the weak.  I know this because I’ve been the bullied, meek little mouse most of my life.  I have always wanted to please people, have searched for approval everywhere I go.  Never would I dare fight back – what would they think of me?  It was the same with the blog.  How can I say anything?  That would be social media suicide.

Rae knew this as well, but she spoke up anyway.  What happened to her was far worse.  He’d said things to her that were disgusting, and uncalled for, and when she protested, he didn’t stop.  But it was the public lashing Le Clown had his friends give one of her friends that got her to speak out.  Often we will do for others what we will not do for ourselves.

So she outed him.  Not with stories or anecdotes or hearsay, but with actual evidence.  Screenshots of emails with his face, his words.  Yet people will still deny that it’s real.  People will still look away.

But not everyone will.  When I saw that she was brave enough to stand up, I felt the least I could do was comment.  So after some trepidation I briefly told my story.  And then, to my amazement, a few more people did.  And then more people.  Many of these people I knew, yet I’d had no idea they too had been bullied and pushed around by him.  All this time, we could have been helping each other.  But we kept quiet.  Because that’s what good people do, right?

Yet when her post went up, we found each other.  Rae held up her one candle.  It was one tiny light in the darkness.  But other candles joined hers, and the light got brighter and brighter. People got braver and braver.  They joined in the chorus. Some wrote their own posts.  Others reblogged.  Some people reblogged the reblogs.

“Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing

  Let the whole world know that today is a day of reckoning.”

Rae has gotten quite a bit of flack from all of us “teaming up” on one person.  But they don’t understand that he has teamed up on so many, using his followers to put people in their place.  Over and over again.  If he is the victim now, it is only because he victimized so many others.  Karma really is a bitch.

“Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong

 Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay

  It’s Independence Day”

At this moment, it seems his blog is shut down.  I don’t know if it will stay that way.  I’m sure he’ll be back, and have more followers eventually.  And I know there are many who still support him, and that’s their choice.  I don’t blame people for not speaking up, because it is very scary.  But for those that did, I thank you, more than you will ever know.  For once, I feel like there has actually been some justice.

“Maybe it’s right and maybe it’s wrong

  But maybe it’s the only way

  Talk about your revolution

  It’s Independence Day.”

Feature Friday: Alice at Wonderland

Whoop, dere it is! I’m being featured today on Stuphblog! Check it out, and if you’re not, follow this guy. I promise he’s unshitty.

Parenting Then and Now

You know, it’s hard to keep up with all your personalities.  I’m just so many people at once!  Mom, wife, daughter, librarian, Alice here, Mary Alice on the Wonder Twins (she’s returned, check it out), Squirrel on facebook, and at least a quarter of the time, I’m a depressed pony.  Oh, and I almost forgot my subconscious and my inner goddess.  Whew.

But my most important role is blogger.  I mean, wait, mother.  My most important role is being the mommy of my Things.  In case you haven’t been reading long, I call my children Things.  Because

You betcha.

You betcha.

A little while back I wrote about how not to be a crappy parent, and it was pointed out to me that parents often get a bad rap and we should support each other.  Good point.  I mean, we all have our own styles, right?  But my, times have changed just a bit, haven’t they?

For instance, now they say it is best to breastfeed.  But back in the 1950s, they had other ideas of what constituted good baby food.  For instance

Nothing like a little carbonated formula.

Nothing like a little carbonated formula.

Of course, now we have real formula and I don’t think anyone actually feeds their babies soda in their bottles.  I’m just going to keep thinking that because it makes me happy.

Anyhoo, there were also different opinions on TV.  Now we say it will rot our children’s brains.  Not true – it rots the brains of parents, as I clearly show in my reviews of children’s television.  (I’m planning to do more of these, so if you’ve got a show that makes you want to poke your own eyes out, let me know.  If I haven’t reviewed it, I will.)  But back in the 1950s, TV not only wasn’t bad, it was good!  And I’m sure the ad coming from a company producing television wouldn’t lie!

You just can't get too much of that educational Howdy Doody.

You just can’t get too much of that educational Howdy Doody.

So I guess what I’m saying is, if you feel like a lousy parent, all you have to do is look a few years back.  There are much worse things, and you can find many of these on The Wonder Twins (yes another LINK DROP!), my retro blog with Merbear, who also shows some funny stuff on her blog as well.  One example – clothes called “Chubbies” for plump little girls whose self esteem apparently wasn’t already low enough.

At least we know that now we are doing the best for our kids.  It’s not like parenting trends come and go, and come back again or anything.

poster from the 1930s

Poster from the 1930s.  Good to know we’ve been judging moms for decades!

So in the 1930s, they’re saying breastfeed.  In the 1950s, you can feed ’em 7-up and carnation milk.  Later, we have actual regulated formula.  I was fed formula, and so were a lot of my peers who are now afraid to feed their kids formula, because they might have damaged brains.  Like, um, they do?  It’s confusing.  As you can see, views have flipped flopped over the years, and flopped again.  Sort of like sleeping positions for babies

I actually had one of these with Thing One.  It didn't work.

They must sleep on their side!  I actually had one of these with Thing One. It didn’t work.

No, wait, keep the kid on her back.  Our bad.

No, wait, keep the kid on her back. Our bad.  Be sure to squeeze her in really tight like a vice.

HEY, baby, you're doing it wrong.

HEY, baby, you’re doing it wrong.

My mother was told to lay me on my stomach.  When Thing One was born, they told me to lay her on her side.  When Thing Two came around, she was supposed to lie on her back.  But Thing One rolled onto her back.  And Thing Two startled every five seconds on her back, and rolled to her tummy.  They are both still alive.  I’m sure in a few years, we’ll be back to the tummy sleeping.  Or perhaps we’ll be suspending them in midair.  Who knows.

I’m just glad my days of being a new mommy are over!  I wish luck to my readers with little bitties.  Just remember – you’re doing it wrong.  But so did everybody else.