Being a woman is great in this post proto-feminist world, and if you aren’t already a modern woman, I’d like to take you out of the kitchen and bring you up to speed. I was raised to believe in antiquated ideas — such as a woman needs to act like a lady and that a child needs both a mother and a father! Preposterous. Last week I squeezed out eight fatherless kids while at the sports bar during half-time – I do have a few pre-existing kids from different baby daddies, but I was keeping up with all the octomoms in the neighborhood.
Multiple births are the new Mercedes.
The only married couple I know, Bob and Bruce, come over every so often to teach my boys how to be men, and then take them shopping for child-appropriate skincare and those awesome bio-degradable Chanel onesies I’ve seen on many fatherless celebrity babies.
When Bob and Bruce are busy, the guys I pick up at the bar the night before hang out with them for guy-time. This is handy because I learn these men’s names as they introduce themselves to my brood. Once they are acquainted I can get to work on my new fragrance line without worrying about the rugrats.
Had a real job back in 2008, but that stable, pre-proto-feminist lifestyle is so not important these days. Who needs jobs and money when you can be featured in a reality show and/or dance with the stars while pretending to not exploit your friends, family and children?
I’m in talks with MTV, VH1 and MSNBC (Keith Olbermann is not happy, I am vying for his time-slot to boost ratings). They are really psyched as I plan to release my sex tape (with John Edwards, because John Edward wasn’t available that night. He was communicating with my dead Grandma, who, as it turns out, is totally in favor of me releasing my X-rated shenanigans and likes the samples from my proposed clothing line).
Anyway, so glad I was enlightened — you don’t have to get married in order to have kids. Out of wedlock births used to be taboo. Morals are so 1985! Like the shoulder pads on Sarah Palin’s suits. My friends Alex and Robin are going through a divorce and little Beatrice is traumatized over how she will survive without both of her mommies, but at least they’ve worked out a custody agreement for the nannies.
Before I go on, I need to address a serious rumor that has nearly ruined my life. It’s absolutely false that Michaele Salahi was wearing the same Vera Wang dress as I was on the red carpet at Rahm Emanuel’s annual tutu auction. It wasn’t even the same color! Regardless, Michaele wasn’t invited to crash the event. It is often whispered she didn’t vote for God Jr. because the elections interfered with her regularly scheduled botox appointment. My friend in DC said Michaele once dropped the N-bomb in front of Arianna Huffington, and promptly checked herself into celebrity rehab and missed the Oscars. How gauche.
Anyway, I am participating in a unique green genetic program, implemented by those pro-life freaks, it’s basically embryo recycling and approved by Al Gore. I think I’ve finally found an embryo that is guaranteed African, Asian, American-Indian, Middle-Eastern and Canadian. Canadians are like synonyms for human beings, it’s exactly the same as buying something from a designer’s trunk sale. If you don’t say anything, no one will know the difference. And it’s so politically correct – my next child’s carbon footprint will be blacker than Al Gore’s. Please help me raise awareness for saving the earth, one embryo at a time.
Also, do let me know about your views on the post-modern feminist lifestyle in the comments. Oh, I will be out of town for the next few days, so I might not respond promptly, or my assistant will respond in my absence. I was so traumatized by the latest paparazzi photo of me stepping out of a limo, I briefly considered wearing panties. Instead, I’m headed to Cuba (where they have the world’s best free health care) to get things tightened up down there. Meanwhile, I’m going to hang out with my older children who are 7 and 19, watch some Happy Days reruns, and teach them about wine.
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