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Best o’ the Bitch, BIS Sez, Bitch’in Life

Can We Talk…. About Losing Joan Rivers?


Joan Rivers is dead, and I am absolutely devastated.

This is something that I’m somewhat embarrassed about because it doesn’t make all that much logical sense.

It’s not like I knew her, or was ever in her presence — save the time I saw her throw it down during her “Can We Talk” phase circa 1982, when she gave everyone from Liz Taylor to Heidi Abromowitz (the tramp and “poster girl for herpes”) a kick in the ass with her heavy-duty silver-tipped tongue.

I have to admit she lost me somewhat in her fashionista stage of recent years. With all due respect to her QVC line — which in my opinion was amazing for business savvy of it, not so much the style — to Fashion Police, I rarely tuned in. Then again, when I did, the zingers were just as stunning as always (i.e., on Rihanna: “Why the green lips? It looks like she just [bleep] the Grinch. Talk about Christmas coming early.” And my personal favorite in recent history, on Lea Michele at the Teen Choice Awards: “She looks like a porn star. You know the kind of porn stars who aren’t the prettiest, so they do crazy stuff like amputee gang bangs?”). read more


Wisdom from the Dog Days of Summer


Here we are once again, nose-deep in the thick of lazy summer days. Unfortunately for my mistress, the self-anointed “Bitch’in Suburbia,” it’s a busy week so, I, the real bitch (in Suburbia) have volunteered to teach you a thing or two about better living through canine chemistry:

1) Put your butt in the air like you just don’t care: Did you think that yogis invented downward facing dog? It is my favorite stretch by far; my go-to whenever I need to kick out the jams and get the blood flowing again. Don’t just do this on a sticky mat – get down on all fours and do it several times a day. Oh, and be sure to take pictures and share on the internet. A surefire way to win friends and influence people (said every Kardashian always).

2) When in doubt, nap it out: You humans love to burn everything at all ends, always. Look, I get it – someone’s gotta keep me in kibble. But who says that you can’t close your eyes and meditate for a few? Just a couple minutes can rejuvenate a body and get your tail wagging. read more

BIS Sez, Bitch’in Life

Carbs, A Love Story


The other night I reunited with my own true love, and although I know it’s bad — hell, it’s flat out wrong to try to turn back time — does it help you to know that when I wandered off to the point of no return, both of my parents gazed on and my husband was at my side?

All it took was a basket of warm, flaky, buttery dinner rolls, and I was in a sensory blackout courtesy of my old bad boy flame. Seduced by the yeasty sweetness of it all, I ate most of the first basket and a generous portion of a second.

And when I finished it all, I felt sick.

I felt guilty.

And now I’m afraid there’s no going back.

Once upon a time, food was just food. Nothing spelled happiness like my mom’s spaghetti and meatball casserole, where a 350-degree oven baked the sauciness out of the Bolognese, leaving a crispy pile of melted cheese, overdone meat, and best of all, crunchy pasta. Sunday mornings were only complete when my dad came home with a brown bag full of still-warm bagels. I would kill for a greasy slice of pizza, a salty bag of Wise potato chips, a gooey hunk of homemade chocolate cake. read more

Keep Calm and Fuck Cancer
Best o’ the Bitch, BIS Sez

Open Letter to Breast Cancer: F*ck You


Breast Cancer:

I hate to disturb you during your special month. I know you keep everyone super busy, what with the walks, the awareness campaigns, the fundraising, and all of those clever memes! I support second base too, but is it really just about THAT?

By the way, while I adore any slang for breasts (Ta-tas, love jugs, knockers, and yazoos especially), when paired with the concept of “cancer,” I find all of that cutesy talk pretty offensive. But then again, being innocuous isn’t exactly your strong suit.

When my friends post about breast cancer and ask me to “like” it, I just want to scream. I know being positive helps, and laughter is the best medicine, but where the hell is the HATE button?

I despise the fact that we raise bazillions to support the cause, and yet, there is no cure. Or more accurately CURES, since there are at least four genetically distinct forms of you.

There are, however, treatments: lumpectomies, chemo, radiation, radical mastectomies… followed by reconstructive surgeries. read more


The Top 3 Shopping Sinkholes – How to Stay Safe & Save $


Ever feel like your wallet’s being swallowed by a giant sinkhole?

One minute everything is stable, and the next minute you’ve got a shopping cart full of crap you don’t need that’s burying your finances alive.

This past week life presented the perfect storm of marketing madness: growing kids, company coming, and the delivery of a new couch.

Suddenly I needed new everything, and old impulses were the loose soil underneath my normally solid footing when it comes to ignoring temptation. Before I knew it, I had a fistful of receipts, a sore shoulder from lifting things in and out of my car, and an empty checking account.

While I’m not saying everything was unnecessary, I can freely admit that I didn’t need the Trader Joe’s Speculoos Crunchy Cookie Butter, nor did my son, the Bar Mitzvah boy, really need the “MMMMMMM Bacon” t-shirt from Target.

In an effort to pull myself out of the sinkhole of “have to have it,” and back to the stable ground of “only what is absolutely needed,” here’s a rundown of the worst suburban shopping sinkholes, and how to save yourself from going over the consumer’s edge: read more

Best o’ the Bitch, BIS Sez, Parenting

The Best $20 Gift You Can Give — Chocolate Bar Book


This week’s Bitch’in Suburbia post was supposed to be a holiday gift guide — that is until a friend handed me a book one of her students had written. By the time I finished reading it, I realized that there was only one present I’d endorse this year: Chocolate Bar book. It’s a delicious read, with a fantastically creative catchphrase, and a kicker that can’t be beat: it was written by first grader Dylan Siegel to raise money for his best friend Jonah Pournazarian, who has a rare liver condition called Glycogen Storage Disease (GSD 1B). I wanted to know more about the author, his BFF/muse/inspiration, and why this book so perfectly embodies the giving spirit.

Bitch’in Suburbia (BIS): So how did you guys meet? Seems like you go back a long time.

Dylan Siegel (DS): Preschool. Mommy & Me, I think.

BIS: You might be the first writer to meet his muse at a Mommy & Me group. So tell me about what Jonah has.

DS: It’s… he gets a lot of shots. read more