Curbed Comments Section Turns Into Big Gay Battle Royale

I get bored very easily.

Among the shit that bores me most is Park Slope-brand political correctness, or as my man Blognigger coined it, McCarthyism 2.0.

That's what I loved about Curbed readers' reactions to the site's coverage of yesterday's FIPS article on the Tea Lounge:

No one really wanted to focus their energy on the same old boring topic of Breeder vs. Baller - barely anyone wanted to chime in on how retarded and corny FIPS is for making the same old hackneyed observations about the Tea Lounge - instead, everyone decided to just start calling each other faggots.

I'm a big supporter of this group decision: First of all, it makes for a compelling and extremely humorous thread. Second, it proves that political correctness is one big lie, motivated and maintained exclusively by fear: As soon as humans are given a little anonymity, they start lashing right out and calling each other gay.

Gay people were hating on straights, straights were hating on gays - and you know what? It looks to me like they all had a good time. I wish that the Tea Lounge itself was this honest:

I said a LITTLE milk, ya dumb dyke.

Pour it yourself then, breeder bugaboo whore.

Maybe one day our community will be set free, and everyone will speak as they truly feel. For now, how lucky we are to have a laboratory for this enlightening sociological experiment.

It's awesome.

A Tea Lounge Survival Guide For the Babyless

(photo: NY Mag)

After my internet went out early last week, I found myself desperate, alone, and left with no choice: I had to go to the Tea Lounge.

Now, I really do love the Tea Lounge. I like the energy there, the feeling that we're all typing away for the collective good of the dub dub dub at large, and I also really dig the hot apple cider. But, after spending an extended party remix amount of time there, I can handily confirm that all the rumors are true: "Tea Lounge" IS actually code for "daycare center."

R u babyless? Wanna survive your Tea Lounge experience without killing anyone? Learn from my mistakes and follow these 5 simple rules...

5. Choose the right seat - I cannot stress how critical this is. More than anything else, this will likely influence your overall Tea Lounge level of enjoyment. As a general rule, I find that closer to the wall is best. Most ideal = that platform seating against the back wall. Is it the most comfortable? No, but have you ever seen anyone lug a bugaboo up there? Also, misbehaved kids can fall off the platform onto their fucking faces and so Mommies-n-Daddies seem to avoid this spot at all costs. 2nd choice would be seating at the communal table against the side wall. Now if there is some sort of live muzak or poetry slam going on, they move this table, so this isn't *always* an option, but that tends to happen later at night after most of the kiddos are gone anyway. Also, a seat at the bar is always a good bet, which brings me to #4.

4. Order Booze - I don't care what time it is, order yourself up a cocktail. Nothing else says "fuck off" to a parent quite as effectively as a hipster with their macbook drinking a beer at 10:30am. Even if you don't plan on really drinking, its worth the $8 for the martini glass. Trust me: its almost like wearing a garlic necklace to ward off a vampire: the shit works.

3. Avoid the front half of the Lounge - This is sorta related to #5, but is worth calling out: that front sectional couch area (closest to the free standing video game in the corner) seems to be the unofficial Romper Room area. I don't know if its because its closest to the stroller parking lot (i.e. where all the SUV strollers are left) or if its a legitimate Tea Lounge designated playpen area, but don't go there. This is especially critical if you find yourself there anytime before 8pm (the morn, unsurprisingly, seems to be the worst. OH, also, at 11am on Wednesdays there is a "sing along;" DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT ever go there at this time).

2. Don't make eye contact, Smile or say "aww, how cute" to anyone - This one seems pretty obvious, but is also crucial. Just as weirdos like that dude Mystery who has that whole show about pickin' up women on VH1 talks about the signals you give off at a bar, so is the case at TL. Smiling at a kid or engaging one in conversation is a classic sign that you are open/interested in tot time. If one parent sees you being all shmoopy with someone else's kid, then they won't think twice when their little rug rat comes running through and throws their blankie in your face. They saw you showing Cooper what a cappuccino is! You Love kids! N'uh uh. Keep to yourself and don't talk to anyone (unless you are sitting next to a hot guy/girl and you are single and ready to mingle...in which case you should watch that Pick Up Artist show on Vh1).

1. Surf porn - When all else fails, this is your most effective go to getthefuckawayfromme technique. When Super Mom walks by you as you're casually surfin on Hot XXX Latina Bitches dot com, you're guar-awn-teed that she'll be keepin her lil bebe as far away from you as she possibly can (i.e. probably on the front couch). TIP: I like to keep some porn open in one of my browser tabs, just in case I ever need to quickly pull it up.

So, yeah--I get that there is no hope of ever having a babyless Tea Lounge enviro. But is segregation really so bad after all?

My No-Cruelty Mouse Control Solution Involves Smashing Them to Death With Gigantic Fucking Cinderblocks.

Do you have mice?

Our apartment is fucking infested with mice. It's seasonal. Kind of.

It freaks the shit out of my wife, and though I'm more content to sit with my laptop while the mice run around me and mind their own business, I have to admit that it is extremely disturbing to watch them run into my daughter's room while she's sleeping.

We have tried:

• poison
• traps
• walking around like spelunkers and filling up every goddamn hole in our ancient brownstone with brillo and some kind of cement paste
• a sound machine

Ha - funny story about the useless fucking sound machine - there are these settings on it, and one of them says "inaudilble" - the instructions say something like:

The inaudible setting should be sufficient for standard household operation. While sound emitted at this setting should not be audible to most humans, it is possible that those with extremely attuned hearing may still be able to sense the unit's frequency while it is operating at this level.

And then you turn it on - and I swear to god this is true - it's like this loud fucking emergency broadcast system tone that makes you want to move out of your apartment. IT's POSSIBLE that those with extremely attuned hearing might hear it?!? They make it sound like some shit only dogs and superman can hear, and then it's so goddamn loud my grandma can hear it from the living room and she's dead.

Fucking sales copy.

And forget about the other setting - I think it's called "LOUD" - it just sounds like Chernobyl. It must be like a party-gag setting or for use in a barn.

Anyway, we've tried all of these solutions and none of them work. We leave glue traps out, because they sometimes catch mice in them, but then here's our problem: getting rid of the mice once they are stuck in the traps.

I don't like watching them suffer, because in the end they are little living creatures even if they're mice. It feels wrong. You can't peel them off of the glue traps because once caught in that shit, their feet are fucked for life. A friend of mine just puts them into the garbage on 7th avenue, but this is about the most fucked up thing i can think of - they just sit there stuck to the glue trap and starve in the dark??? Horrible.

Typical fuckin hippie - he thinks he's being kind because he doesn't have to SEE them suffer or kill them himself. This beef is organic so the cow had no antibiotics in it when they held it upside down and slit it's throat with an hatchet the size of an airplane wing.

Anyway, I gotta take responsibility for them then and there - the way I see it, as soon as they're stuck in one of those things, they're frightened and in a horrible non-medicated panic attack situation. So, I lift the traps into a black plastic bag, (bare hands! tough guy! dad was wrong!) take it downstairs and outside, set it on the sidewalk, and I drop a truly gigantic 40-pound cinderblock onto the bag that causes them to disintigrate. They die instantly. It's the most humane thing I can think to do once their lives are fucked by being caught in toxic glue-cement.

Still sucks, but I wish they would listen to the hundreds of warnings I've posted for them in their holes and in their comments sections so that it didn't always have to come to this.

What do you do?

BREEDER vs. BALLER: Why Do Mom's Get Special Fucking Privileges in the Workplace?

Each week we will attempt to bring you the unbiased, unedited points-of-view of a bonafide, ginuwine Park Slope Breeder (mom/dad) and a real deal, smokin, sexin, drinkin Park Slope Baller (child free-n-lovin it) on a variety of topics. Identities will remain anonymous, of course, to protect the soon-to-be lynched.

BALLER:

Moms in the workplace get mad perks, allowances, "passes," and post Obama type freedoms that those of us with our uteri in tact do NOT enjoy.

"pslope non mom" is totally, 1000% fucking right and anyone who fights me on this is either:

*a liar
*an idiot
*a combination of the two

Period.

Now, let me lay out the facts: I currently work at a company that would definitely be considered more "sensitive" and life/balance forward thinking than most. However, throughout my life, I have worked in a variety of different workplace type shituations ranging from a large, scary behomoth of a corporate entity (what up Conde Nast!) to a small, poorly run internet start-up that focused more energy on their employee snack food options than our profit margins.

In every single solitary company on my two page resume (none of which are Earth shoe factories, by the way; nice one AnnaZed), mommyhood was the equivalent of winning the fucking lottery.

"OH, I'm sorry. I'm going to have to run out 15 minutes early because little Bronx Mowgli has a soccer game tonight! Finish up without me, OK?"

"Hi, this is [insert MILF name here]. I'm sorry, but I can't make it in today because my little Suri Suri Sur-pot has the sniffles and I have to take her to the doctor. Good luck on your two hour presentation! Call me if you need me!"

"Yikes, I'm sorry. I know you all have to work this weekend to finish up that proposal, but Gucci Hermes Lexus has her brownie troop comin over, so I'm gonna have to bail on that. I'll catch up with you guys next week."

3 months on the couch eatin bon bons maternity leave so you can bond with your bebe? No problemo!

Extra health insurance benefits and allowances? Sure!

All served up with a side of government tax breaks and a heaping helping of "its ok if you're fat cause you're a mom and that's beautiful."

Well, I say, fuck all y'all.

You made a CHOICE to be a mom, and I made a choice to be a BALLER. But, I don't expect your ass to allow me an extra fifteen to get home so I can take my fucking cat to the fucking feline acupuncturist. Even though my cat has an ongoing health issue that requires his hairy ass to get treatment 3 times a month at a place that's only open from 12-3pm. NOPE, that's my fucking problem.

YOU get to "work from home" three days a week, while I'm stuck in this stupid fucking chair, at my stupid fucking desk (probably finishing YOUR stupid fucking proposal).

And if there is one thing that I can be absolutely assured of...that I can LITERALLY fucking guarantee: you'll have another fresh excuse for something else that you need to avoid/cancel/pass off tomorrow (AND no one will notice).

mommyhood = quite a perk, indeed.

BREEDER:
Baller, take my advice: You seriously want to save what you just wrote up there, keep it in a safe place, and look at it again in 20 years so you can remember when you were acting like the psychotic Louis Farrakhan of angry, childless dykes.

Baller. baller. dude. shhhh; they're moms. What happened to you that you are so disturbingly enraged? It's such a dark place to be, to be whining nonstop about someone having something that you want.

Okay, some mothers, at workplaces like yours, might get a little lenience here and there - a little time to be with their kids - but why would you ever begrudge them that? They also have to get up 10 times in the middle of the night, while you get to operate on a full night's sleep. Fair? Don't make me say it: L*fe isn't fair.

The most intriguing thing about your rant is that I'm sure it conflicts with and exposes inconsistencies in your otherwise liberal worldview. As someone who lives in Park Slope, I'm betting you believe in Universal Health Care, right? Here's an interesting psychological question for you: what exactly do you think is preventing you from applying these socialist tendencies to the mom situation?

I mean, traditionally, someone who believes in Universal Health Care and other strong social benefits would tend to also support an understanding workplace that tolerates a mother's dual role in society. Or would you go back on that now, and say that if some can't afford health care, it's because of the CHOICE they made to be an artist or a freelancer, or some occupation which doesn't normally provide health care?

Well, we both know you'd lose your co-op membership for suggesting an idea like that, so then, why is it ok to support this socially progressive movement but deny the rights of mothers to have special allowances for their childcare needs?

Each according to their needs, right Kruschev? Or is that only when it's convenient for you?

Are you against poor women, who can't afford to be stay-at-home mom's, being allowed to have children? Or jobs? No? Then you need to support society's accommodation of their needs so that they can remain in the workplace.

Alright, it's getting late; I'm sure you should be running off to a veteran's hospital to stand outside and protest the fact that they get free health care and you don't. Why should they get free health care? They CHOSE to join the army for the Iraq war right? Why should they get special benefits just because they made a certain CHOICE?

Don't you want those benefits too? Shouldn't it be even-steven? Speak up!

GUEST POST: Ask BN: Do Stay-at-Home Moms Really Work That Hard?

We have a real special treat today - I'm honored to present you with a FIPS exclusive – a charitably donated blogwarming gift: the brand spanking new column by the greatest blogger in the world, Park Slope's own Blognigger!

---

Astute reader Carls Jr. writes:

Date: Wed, Jun 18, 2008 at 12:25 AM
Subject: Stay at home bitching
To: Blognigger

yo bn

wanted to get your take on this - I'm a restaurant manager who works nights and has to sleep during the day. For the most part my wife is really cool about it. She gets up with the baby and lets me sleep and so on. Our older kid is 6 and in school so he's not an issue during the day.

The main problem is though, she bitches non fuckin stop about how hard her life is, and that I don't understand how hard it is to be a stay at home mom. And the crazy thing is she starts the arguments!!! I work 65 hours a week and make 100% of our income and I never mention the fact that she's not making any money, instead I treat her like a queen, but instead, SHE bitches at ME. The woman can not shut up about how hard her life is.

The funny thing is, there are times during the day when she needs to go out and I watch our son for hours at a time. Every time I do it I think to myself.....It's just not that hard!! Sure there's the occasional diaper explosion or screaming tantrum, but I swear on my life I don't see what the big fucking deal is. When he sleeps I can fuckin SLEEP or scratch my nuts or watch the wire dvds --- try doing that at a real job!! I wish that she could try managing a staff of 15 mexicans and at the same time dealing with phone calls from the owner and 5 customers having a meltdown over there missing appetizers...... I think it would put into perspective exactly how tough her work situation is.

How do you deal with these issues from your woman - I know she's home with the kids too, right? Granted I know you've got two kids so it might be rougher on your bird, but what's your take- is it really that fucking hard to be a stay at home mom??

--snip--

Peace bn,
Carls Jr.

What up, Carls-

Fantastic question! Sorry I let it rot in my inbox for 5 months, but such is the prerogative of a mostly-black male living under the Obama Administration-Elect: I can do WHATEVER I WANT all the time with zero accountability. Hopefully you're not already divorced, and I've still got a shot at helping you out here.

The answer to your question is that it depends on a bunch of factors- For example, as far as net difficulty of daily tasks is concerned, there's a huge difference between:

• an upper-east-side mink jewess who stays at home with her full-time nanny and takes breaks from her craigslist casual-encounters surfing to teach her kid which president's face appear on which dollar bills.

-AND-

• some poor jewish woman with 10 kids in crown heights who is gonna get face-slapped if Moishe gets home and one of the male children hasn't finished his chicken-liver or has accidentally touched a female human.

In your case specifically though, it's easier to assess because your wife is a lazy whore.

Totally kidding! I hardly know anything about you guys! Therefore, let's assume the "stay-at-home mom" in question is a married woman with two kids, no nanny, and a housekeeper that comes once every two weeks.

Now right off the bat: while I too get pissed off at my wife's insistence that she performs brain surgery while my office colleagues and I masturbate to internet porn, I've got to say that I've spotted a crucial flaw in your logic:

> The funny thing is, there are times during the day when she needs to go out and I watch our son for hours at a time.

Stop right there - that's unscientific. You can't just take what they do 24/7, do it for a few hours, and then be like "yo that shit's easy." That's like saying you could handle Ramadan just cause it's almost 3pm and you haven't eaten since breakfast.

So, there's a clue for us: In isolation, the following tasks are NOT as hard as the stressful restaurant-management activities you've described:

• feeding a kid breakfast
• changing a diaper
• cleaning a kid's hands and face with a washcloth
• dressing a kid (actually, bad example, that's fucking hard)
• getting a kid downstairs and into a stroller
• making a kid wear a hat in the snow so he doesn't freeze and die (another terrible example - also impossible)
  

However, in context, these tasks coagulate to form certain conditions that are far worse than the sum of the parts. These conditions ARE more difficult to bear than the tasks of most western, non-air-traffic-controlling professions, including your job of playing Hell's Kitchen with a bunch of mexicans:

• Serial deprivation of intellectual stimulus; prolonged exposure to extreme mental boredom.
• Deep isolation from adult contact and sanity-sustaining social interaction
• De-prioritization of personal hygiene and excretion processes
• Sleep deprivation
• Chinese-Water-Torture-esque exposure to punctuated nails-on-blackboard whining and demands every 3 minutes for (literally) years and years without significant respite.
  

I've seen the effects of these conditions on my wife, so it's obvious to me that being a stay-at-home mom is worse than my job as a highly-paid software engineer. I believe that also makes it harder, but you can see why the definition of hard itself is called somewhat into question- For example, What's a harder job:

• Being a slave girl in Pakistan and cleaning camel shit between beatings

-OR-

• Being a Front-Office Wall Street Trader.

Tough call on semantics, right? But the Pakistani chick obviously has it worse.

It boggles my mind to think that anyone would willingly be a stay-at-home mother - the inherent deprivation of basic human rights is just too great. I could never do it in 10 billion years, even though I love my kids enough to throw myself in front of a train for them that's different though, because throwing yourself in front of a train is far less boring, is over quickly, and takes far less dedication to execute than committing yourself to the complete and total ego suicide that stay-at-home parenting entails.

However: because of her severe dedication to our kids and unwillingness to have them raised by Caribbeans, my wife has chosen to be a stay-at-home mom.

Keyword: CHOSEN.

This brings us to the real issue in our household:

If my wife has Chosen this role for herself, and can reverse that decision at any time, is she really allowed to bitch about it nonstop and make everyone else's life hell with her nonstop martyring and complaining and whining?

Get the fuck outta here Carls, that's the stupidest question i've ever heard in my life. Who cares if they're allowed - they're going to bitch anyway so deal with it. Want a divorce? Go try telling them they're not allowed to complain.

Don't worry - your kids will be at a state university soon, and your wife will slowly assimilate back into society, though her skills at typewriting and woodworking and all these other twentieth century tasks will be meaningless and outdated, and she'll still be a drain on your income and society.

Even then however, as she'll have taken the ultimate bullet for the team - you'll still be the asshole, and in debt to her forever.

Btw, if your answer in the first paragraph was "too late, we're already divorced," then please ignore all of the above. In fact, if you would forward me your ex-wife's contact information, that would be optimal - totally saves me a sketchy-ass trip to craigslist casual encounters.

Thanks and be well - hope this helps.
Blognigger.