My name is Jenny (aka The Bloggess). I'm an irreverent satire writer with a penchant for saying baffling things that leave people alternately appalled and fascinated. I'm best known for giving unprovoked and vaguely dangerous advice, and was once labeled an "interesting psycho" by Gawker after unwittingly starting a small blood feud with William Shatner. I find it very hard to dispute any of this.
I know. I don’t want to talk about it any more than you want to read about it but this shit is going to happen so buckle up, buttercup.
If you have a child, chances are that one day very soon you will have to sit them down and have "THE SEX TALK." Most likely you’ll put it off because they are still far too young to even know what sex is, and occasionally you’re right. I’m 38 and I’m pretty sure my father thinks I’m almost ready for the talk.
It’s important to always be an authentic version of you. Unless you’re an asshole. Then you can be someone else. Although, now that I think about it, there’s only one you so if you’re pretending to be someone else that's an authentic version of you as well. An authentic version of you pretending to be someone else. And now my head hurts.
Normally this column is all about my terrible advice to you on child-rearing. Most people enjoy it or just avoid it but some of you seem intent on calling me out as being a terrible parent in spite of the fact that this column is called "Ill-Advised" for a reason. In fact, I recently got an email implying that I didn't even have a child. Which is ridiculous. I have a 7-year-old named Hailey that I stole so I could write this column in good faith. BECAUSE ETHICS ARE IMPORTANT TO ME.
Also, I stole her from heroin addicts so stop judging me. It took six months just to get her off the horse and she still complains that she has bugs under her skin.
In short, I am like some kind of a goddamn saint. But in case you still think I'm lying, I have decided to share an hour in the life of my daughter with you.
YOU ARE WELCOME AMERICA. And Canada. And ... whoever else is here.
Manners are incredibly important in today’s society because people who don’t write thank-you notes get smallpox and die. Or at least, that’s what my great aunt told me. Fortunately I seem to be immune to smallpox. One would think my great aunt would be relieved, but instead she just seems to grow more bitter as I tempted fate each year by refusing to write cards.
If there's one thing worse than a child who curses, it's a child who curses poorly. That's why this week I decided to focus on teaching your children how to curse properly ... specifically using the F-word.