I have a pretty high tolerance for the gross, bizarre, and inappropriate.
However, my conversation with Barbie raised some TMI (too much information) eyebrows.
Last weekend, Barbie groomed my eyebrows at the brow bar. I had been there before because Barbie is a pro. Except her name isn’t actually Barbie, but it might as well have been with her long blonde hair, blue eyes, tan in the winter, perfectly groomed brows, perfectly fake breasts, thin body.
While she was waxing my brows, we started chatting.
About the new recipes we tried. Barbie likes to make Chicken Cordon Bleu.
About her commute. She drives 40 minutes to work.
About her new apartment. And her boyfriend. And how he just bought her a head-to-toe laser hair removal treatment.
Whoa!
But then Barbie kept talking about the procedure. In detail. Including the Brazilian.
First off, congratulations on your little ditty, Whistle, getting more than 107 million views on YouTube. I wonder how many of those viewers are girls under 12?
And, wow, Whistle was a top 5 single on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100. I wonder how many tweens are singing along, on their iPods?
Whistle plays on rotation on the Z100 radio station. Z100 pulls in an audience of five million daily. Many of them are like the girl pictured below. Isn’t she sweet and innocent?
Golly, you are reaching millions and millions of kids, with songs that are totally degrading to women. I am sure your Mama and Grandma would be proud!
Just keeping it real,
Pippi
Oh and here are the lyrics, so that you and your young daughters can, uh, sing along togehter in the car.
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle, baby, let me know
Girl, I’m gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle, baby, here we go
I’m betting you like people
And I’m betting you love freak mode
And I’m betting you like girls
That give love to girls and stroke your little ego
I bet you I’m guilty, your honor
That’s just how we live in my genre
Went to hell and paid the Rottweiler
There’s only one Flo and one Rida
I’m a damn shame, order more champagne
Pulled a damn ham string, trying to put it on ya
Bet your lips spin back around corner
Slow it down baby, take a little longer
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle, baby, let me know
Girl, I’m gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle, baby, here we go
It’s like everywhere I go, my whistle ready to flow
Shorty don’t even know, she can get any by the low
Tell me she not a pro, it’s okay, it’s under control
Show me soprano ’cause girl, you can handle
Baby, we start something, you come up in bar clothes
Girl, I’m loosening, my Bugatti the same road
Show me your perfect pitch, you got it my banjo
Talented with your lips like you blew out a candle
So amusing
Now you can make a whistle with the music
Hope you ain’t got no issue, you can do it
Give me the perfect pitch, you never lose it
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle, baby, let me know
Girl, I’m gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle, baby, here we go
Go on girl, you can perk it
Let me see your whistle while you work it
I’ma lay it back, don’t stop it
‘Cause I love it how you drop it, drop it, drop it on me
Now, shorty let that whistle blow
Yeah, baby make that whistle blow
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle, baby, let me know
Girl, I’m gonna show you how to do it
And we start real slow
You just put your lips together
And you come real close
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle, baby, here we go
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle baby, whistle, baby
Whistle baby, whistle, baby
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle baby, whistle, baby
Whistle baby, whistle, baby
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle baby, whistle, baby
Whistle baby, whistle, baby
Can you blow my whistle, baby?
Whistle baby, whistle, baby
Whistle baby, whistle, baby
Remember that old commercial? You don’t? Well, I do. It’s from Pantene shampoo, you Silly Goose. Here it is on YouTube to jog your memory:
Well, the other day, I was a bitch. Straight out. Of all places, at Nordstrom. At the Clinique make-up counter, where all things are supposed to be beautiful. My bad attitude was, uh, not beautiful.
Mean to a salesperson on purpose. Sorry. I just felt like it.
So, it was pretty stupid, really. I was there to return some cream. OK, it was anti-wrinkle cream. It was expensive. And they sold me the wrong kind for the wrong skin type. It’s hard for me to find the time to drive to the mall where they sell Clinique, so when I had gotten home and realized they sold me the wrong product and that I would have to go back to make a return, I was perturbed. And THEN, when I went back, they were out of the product I needed and said they could mail it to me. In about 10 days. Meanwhile, I could feel the lines on my face emerging. Like red cracking clay in Australia. You get the picture.
So I threw a little hissy fit right on the spot. Saying how this was unacceptable. That they should not be out of stock. And that it was their mistake in the first place. And that they should mail me the right anti-wrinkle cream pronto. And that they need to give me enough samples to last me until the package arrived.
Well, they listened. And I felt great for my throwing my tantrum. For a little while.
Then on my drive home, I felt guilty. Is it worth being a bitch in the first place if you’re gonna just feel guilty about it? I have enough Mother Guilt going on, thank you very much.
A friend once said to me, “You’re always soooo nice.” And I’m like, “I’m not as nice as you think.” But the reality is, yeah I am usually pretty nice. But that’s exactly the reason why we nice people need to blurt out things once in awhile and be not-so-nice once in awhile. Because things piss me off. And I don’t want to hold them in. Every time. For example: When I’m driving. When someone puts me or my family down. When my kids bicker and won’t shut up. When people create hassles for me and I have to go out of my way to fix things. When people are righteous and condescending and they think they are better than me. (Righteous people suck, by the way.) Or, maybe when people look down at me (ala the movie Pretty Woman) when I am shopping for clothes or make-up. And maybe I’m-simply-stopping-in-real-quick-after-soccer-or-football-whatever-you-want-to-call-it-and-maybe-I’m-looking-like-a-sweaty-hag-but-does-that-give-others-a-right-to-look-down-on-me-and-treat-me-like-I-am-not-worthy?
I sometimes don’t want to be nice all the time. And I am worthy (sweat and soccer/football shin guards on and all). And so are you. Except if you are condescending to others. I don’t think those people are as worthy because people who put down others just to pump themselves up? No like.
Oh, and about being beautiful, don’t bother looking for me when you type “most beautiful women” into Google. I may not be the first page when you search. But if you keep scrolling and hit “next page,” I think we all are there somewhere.
Don’t shun the Internet with your children. There is a lot of good and fun out there. Partake with them.
You might be surprised at how many funny things you will seek out. And, yeah, I am a fan of slightly inappropriate material–as long as it’s funny. (See related post on how families should let loose.) If it will spur giggles and conversations with my children, then I am there.
Raising children is pretty funny, isn’t it?
And often, these little moments can turn into fun memories. As in, “Remember that funny video we watched where the Granny is shaking her boobs?” Ah, yes, I know that one! And here it is:
You just might find yourself singing along…with your kids…in the car…at the top of your lungs. Go Granny go!
How can you not have a sense of humor raising children? I laugh every day. I am grossed out every day. I am (a teensy bit) inappropriate every day.
Latest questions, comments, and other utterings in our house:
“Mom, I think there’s a piece of sausage in my milk.”
“No farting on the sofa. Take it outside.”
“Are hot dogs made out of penises?” Google it.
Oh, and this one was from me. Just the other day:
Where are my pants?!”
We taught our youngest the word I-N-A-P-P-R-O-P-R-I-A-T-E and explained what it means. How some behavior is inappropriate at school. Or how some words are inappropriate to say to others.
But if a tight family cannot be a little inappropriate in its own home, then where’s the fun in that?
I energetically mother three children: 14, 10, and 8, am married to my college sweetheart, and have two dogs. My life is full of laughs. eye rolls, love, and laundry. I'm friendly and genuine and blog about my bumbling life.
