The Effects of Divorce on Children
How My Parents’ Divorce Turned Me Into Jason Bourne The effects of divorce on children often makes them into fantastic spies. My parents divorced
How My Parents’ Divorce Turned Me Into Jason Bourne The effects of divorce on children often makes them into fantastic spies. My parents divorced
This Story Is in Honor of National Grandparents Day & LBGT Rights In 1988 at the height of the AIDs epidemic and near-hysterical homophobia,
What happened in the hot tub stays in the hot tub. Let’s just say I did not lose my virginity there, but the Kraken had been unleashed …
“Okay, I told Henry he could write his part of the letter, because there was a good chance I’d run amuck …
“If any of his four granddaughters (not-a-one grandson!) complained about the fish guts, he’d yell, ‘Shad-up and do it! You catch ’em, you clean ’em, you cook ’em, I eat ’em.’
She did all the things besotted mistresses do. She waited for her phone to ring, she called his home and hung up when his wife answered.
She had platinum blond hair worn in an Aqua-Net bouffant, thick black eyeliner and a figure Jayne Mansfield would’ve killed for. At night she peeled her false eyelashes off like she was undressing her face.
I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to barf. I didn’t want to get salty. I didn’t want to smell feces. I didn’t want
Mother Daughter Relationships: I was raised in the 70s; era of the skyrocketing divorce rate (key parties?) and the afternoon martini cart (reference any Bewitched
Today, in an effort to prove my Mavericism — a phrase first coined by Tom Cruise when he played Maverick in that cinematic masterpiece Top
My mom and dad haven’t been married since I was two years old. Throughout my childhood, they had very little contact. Once custody was settled
I’m happy today. What the hell am I going to blog about? Oh, Happiness how you foil my creativity! How soft and sloppy you make
Ellen Marie Stradall Thank you everyone for all your kind, well-wishes for my grandmother’s memorial service. It was so lovely. All the words spoken were
“We’re born in diapers and we die in diapers.” This is what my grandpa Rusty told my mom, aunt, grandma and me as we hovered
Here’s What I Know About Sisters in my 47th Year The truth will set you free. I’ve been jealous of my younger sister, Gina, for
More Than a Decade of Marriage! Sunday Henry and I celebrated eleven years of marriage by gorging on red meat and tippling mescal while I
On Saturday my mom had a celebration at her home for her passionate, intelligent, macho, intrepid, intractable, loving, Rennaisance-Man-of-a husband, Guido, who passed away last
I lost my marbles on the train platform at The Grand Canyon Saturday. Actually, a more astute phrase might be, “I went batshit crazy” aka
This was the worst Thanksgiving ever! None of the children broke any of their bones. No one got drunk and called everybody cheap bastard sons-of-bitches.
I’m worried about Octomom. Fourteen kids. Eight of them are 2. Yesterday I threw my daughter’s tights at her when she STILL hadn’t gotten dressed after
Sisterly Competition Bridget and I were lying in bed reading last night when she activated a sleeper cell to commit jihad against me. “Mommy, who’s
Blaming Your Mom Here’s my sob story accompanied by violin in A minor. My parents divorced when I was two. Both remarried. My dad once
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