Call the Midwife: Joan is looking worried đ
Relentless, Filthy, and Brutally Honest About Being a Woman.
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Hello, Lovelies, How the hell are you?
Today is my youngest daughterâs birthday and my mother, never one to hold back, couldnât have been more on point about things:
âOhhhh,â she cooed, âCongratulations on the bebe and all darling, but your daughter is going to haaaaaaate you. You really shouldnât be around any children until you stop acting like one. Is there a way to prescribe for that?â
Adulting in a pill? I thought. Huzzah, now thereâs one for the Pharma Bros! Fuck anti-depressants, just make me a grownie who can deal with life!
(but donât tell Marty Shrekli or weâre all sunk!)
Fast forward to a gilded elevator at The Plaza in New York City. I am nine million months pregnant.
I have been instructed by the assistants âNot to stare.â
âStare at what?â I say as I am being ushered up to the penthouse suite. I am a writer, specifically a corporate brand strategist, specializing in personalities. I have been sent to see Joan Rivers about all of her various books, jokes, businesses, appearances, and QVC product lines.
âJust... Sheâs had a bit of work.â
I look down. âWell, that makes two of us.â
I have been pregnant with my second daughter, Sophie, for an eternity. The due date long goneâshe refuses to budge, no matter how much coaxing with tandoori or stair climbing. My hair person at Saks expresses concern that sheâll come strolling out of the womb already 5â9â in heels and set to do runway for Calvin. That sounds ouchy.
Meanwhile, Joan is famous worldwide for taking over Late Night for Johnny Carson and showing the planet that women could be hilarious, tough, tender, and ruthless. The Patriarchy had also done her dirty. When finally given her own late-night show on Fox in 1986, Carson was furious. Out of loyalty to him, networks everywhere refused to carry Joanâs show. Her set was also frequently vandalized. By 1987, it was over. The network made sure she couldnât work because they were asshats. She later became infamous on the red carpet for her filthy takedowns of what people wore to the Oscars, the Emmys, and the Globes. It simply wasnât an award show without Joan ripping apart your dress.
So, there I am during this era in maternity fashions, where the trend is to dress the expectant mother up like a giant, puffy baby. The effect is horrendous between the ridiculous bows, juvenile prints, and Easter egg pastels coupled with a bulbous belly. It was a Cabbage Patch Kid nightmare of fashion. You just wanted to set it all on fire.
Our firm had a client that made a line of slinky long black maternity dresses that you could throw a blazer over and with the right heels, you could just barely pretend that you were a grown-ass woman. I bought the lot. It was the only way. Iâd worn the pin-striped jacket that day in an effort to slim my bump. But who was I kidding? I looked like Violet Beauregard from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Someone was surely going to have to juice me.
The elevator doors open onto this. And I realize what sheâs done. Joan has cocooned herself from the Patriarchy⌠in Versailles. I feel my first contraction.
She takes one look at me and says, âWhat the fuck are you doing here?â
âHell if I know, Lady. At eight centimeters dilated, itâs like walking around New York with your purse openâIâll be lucky if the baby doesnât right roll out into Bergdorfâs.â
âHa! Iâm gonna use that.â
She is incredibly sweet.
We sit. I try not to stare. She is smaller than I expected. They always are. We discuss all the projects that need go-to-market plans, the new logos, the new copy, and things to sunset and refresh. All the while the influx of pink seems to have started something in me. My contractions are getting stronger. As she goes to summon water. I text my bossâback then, it was still the first Blackberryâthe best keyboard ever.
Next thing I know, Iâm leaning forward. Itâs total instinct. Iâm practically on all fours. People donât understand, screw stirrups, this is the most comfortable way to give birth, youâve got gravity working for you, and less back pain... itâs just better all around. Joan is looking worried.
Me: âGhaaaaaaaaghgghggh!â
Joan âWhat are you doing? (then, to the assistants) What is she doing?â
Me: âWhat you think Iâm doinâ? Ghaaaaaaaaghgghggh!â
Joan: âLooks like youâre about to give birth on my rug.â
Me: âYeah, sorry about that. My boss is on the way. Ghaaaaaaaaghgghggh.â
Joan: âI love this rug.â
Me: âYeah, well itâs a shit rugâ
Joan: (Cackles) âHow do you know from rugs?â
Me: (Cackles) âI have taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaste! Owowowowowow...!â
And she laughed a low, guttural, wise guffaw that told me everything would be fine. We were only five blocks from Roosevelt⌠which was the Waldorf-Astoria of birthing centers at the time where I was registered.
I did not give birth at Joanâs. I met my then-husband and we went in only to be told it was a false alarm. It must have been the Joan effect. All that pink and laughter. But happy birthday to my darling girl. Youâre old enough for these silly tales by now.
Doofus of the Week!
Sean 'Diddy' Combs can't 'buy his way out', says ex-FBI agent amid sex trafficking charges, post-Jeffrey Epstein debacle, post-R. Kelly, and post-Harvey Weinstein.
For all those not living under the deepest layers of sedimentary rock, Sean 'Diddy' Combs, the hip-hop mogul, is under investigation on charges of sex trafficking. Amid an ongoing sex-trafficking probe by the FBI, an ex-FBI agent claimed that the noose is tightening around the hip-hop mogul Sean 'Diddy' Combs, AKA Puff Daddy, AKA P. Diddy, AKA Puffy Love, AKA Puffy, AKA who knows what else he calls himself⌠the point is he had both his mansions raided. Some highly unnerving videos were found of him with a young, nubile Justin Bieber. And whether youâre a fan of the kidâs music or not, the audacity of the arrogance and stupidity on the part of Combs is just stunning. The manâs delulu. He truly believes he exists in a Puffy bubble devoid of consequences. Itâs astounding that he would persist in such âtraffickyâ behavior given a) these are children b) heâs a parent himself and c) how sensitized the public has become to this narrative. Thereâs no way it will stand. Plus, youâre already a billionaire kingmaker⌠youâd think thatâd be enough for most people. But no, you have to go and be yet another creepy freak. Way to go, Puff-n-stuff.
Yes, other horrible things happened this week, but I could only stomach one doofus. I hope youâll forgive me.
And now for some little marvelsâŚ
Nathan Pyle
âHow do I even explain this comic? Imagine a completely wholesome world in which alien beings use overly complex language (yet adorably specific) to describe the minutiae of the day-to-day life of human beings. Part of the fun is deciphering whatâs being referenced in our real world (âExistence??â = LIFE cereal, for example). Itâs always witty, interesting, warm, and hilarious. Pyleâs artistic and comedic approach is strikingly optimistic against a moment in our cultural landscape that leans heavily on cynicism and ironic detachment.â
Iâll be over here eating my Fortunate Amulets. Happy Autism Acceptance Month, btw.
Pub Choir
So, I love singing and when I stumbled on this, it just gave me so much joy⌠Pub Choir is an Australia-based organization that gets large crowds singing popular tunes, in three-part harmony, no less. 1600-Person Pub Choir Sings Radioheadâs Creep⌠the public experiences connect people.
The ultimate site for neurotic writers
And it comes with all kinds of reasoning to soothe your self-argumentationâŚ
A handy as hell tool: https://www.ilovepdf.com/
Stay safe, Lovelies, and know that Iâm thinking of you. In fact, âIâm⌠afraid of the dark without you close to meâŚâ â xoxo, gotham girl
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I LURVED Joan Rivers! She could be pretty brutal with her fashion assessments. LOL And that FUCKING Patriarchy, always trying to keep the woman down. But let's imagine a world of just men and see what happens. NOTHING. Not a goddamn thing because they need us to do the hard shit. Thank you for that Pub Choir video. "Creep" is a favorite (any version, really, because the ones I've heard you can't fuck it up) and that version was FUCKING. AMAZEBALLS. I've heard bits and pieces about the Diddy thing and it's shameful. First R. Kelly and now Diddy. SMH.
Happy belated to your baby that was late(d). Aries rule. And we will show up when we are ready. LOL. xo