Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

To our valued hotel guests,

As CEO of the most enlightened, sustainable eco-hotel in Tulum, it is my great pleasure to remind you of our policies during your stay. We don’t want to shame you during your time with us, but if you request clean towels and bed linens, we will.


“Let me get a picture of your first day of school!” It’s 7:15 am on a 74-degree October morning and my kids are starting school in person for the first time since March. For them, it’s been a good run. In zoom school, my second grader wrapped every day by 11 am, had constant breaks, and got to play iPad pretty much any time I needed to accomplish something. With three kids in the house during a pandemic, uninterrupted anything has been scarce.

Cut back to this morning and I can fully understand why neither of them looked super happy…


I’m relieved my religious great aunt from rural Pennsylvania emailed me to “unsubscribe her” from my blog back when I happily donned a fuck this anklet a few weeks ago. She really wouldn’t appreciate my Karen rendition of Cardi B’s WAP.

“Aunt Beatrice”, let’s call her, rhetorically asked me “what do you tell your kids about your bracelet”, and I wanted to respond with, “I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s actually an anklet”.

I am a mother. A comedian. A writer. I am a multitude of things, like any human. I knew explaining myself to her would…


I’d been quarantined in my bedroom for five days when I got the results back from my at-home COVID-19 test. Last Thursday afternoon when I came down with chills, body aches and let’s just say “tummy troubles,” I went to my room to lay down since it was almost time for Matt to come out of his office and watch the kids while I got ready for the weekly comedy talk show that I co-host.

The chills I had were mild at first, and I thought maybe I was just exhausted from a week where I burned the candle, the…


image: HuffPost

Have you been wondering if your followers and online friends can see through your posts straight to your bullshit? The answer is a resounding and profound yes, and I’m here to help!

Who am I? I’m God! JK, I’m actually the collective consciousness of your 1537 online “friends.” Call me Zuckerborg, and yes, we’re always watching.

If you have been targeted by this post, the algorithms that be are quite sure your online behaviors are culminating into a big, fat unnecessary existential crisis.

How can I help you? Read the following posts and be honest with yourself about which one…


photo credit: Lochness Digital, Reddit

My fellow pre-schoolers,

Poopie, poopie, poopie!

(toddlers chanting back) Poopie, poopie, poopie!

I’ve gathered all the most detestable, irritating behaviors to torture your parents with during lockdown, and I expect full compliance from now through the end of May. Mrahahahha.

  1. First, you’ve got to fuck up their sleep. After they’ve put in a 14 hour day, you must extend the bedtime ritual. Feign dehydration. Add tantrums. Cry for things they can’t possibly provide, like the shitty claw machine dolphin toy you left at Grandma’s house in Minnesota two months ago.
  2. Parents secretly think you’re going to sleep in after a…


150-years-old is the new 27 when it comes to the average first-time maternal age in the United States. And like you, I wouldn’t care at all except I’m a 35-year-old mom of three and I’m accused of being a teen mom on the daily. “You have three babies?! I thought you were 15!” is just one of many things otherwise normal people say to me all. the. time.

When I was super pregnant with my third baby, I was walking in an underground parking garage in LA with my two little kids. The valet guy came running up to me…


I don’t intervene in my kids’ petty school stuff unless it’s necessary for their well being. Resiliency isn’t born out of helicopter parenting, after all.

I intend to help guide my kids to find their truth, self-confidence, and esteem with the ultimate goal of raising well-rounded individuals who are un-fuck-able-with, in the most beautiful way possible.

My three-year-old ran up to me recently while we had friends over for dinner. “Sterling called me a poop head!” he tattled. So I said to him, “Well, are you a poop head?” He looked at me and said, matter-of-factly, “No.”

That settled it…

Polite As Fudge

If you’re happy and you know it, bring me wine 👏🏻www.politeasfudge.com

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