The Pantless Pirate

What arrr you looking' at? Me booty?

Kiki has this toy she calls The Pantless Pirate because the girl looks like she's not wearing pants, or chonies, just a belted pirate blouse and her swashbuckler boots. She is smiling because she has a treasure map, and who needs pants when they're going to be rich as fuck? (side note: I have got to check my lotto tickets!)

Season 8 of the Real Housewives of New York started this week, and so far so good. It was a lot of Ramona and Bethany. They don't care what comes out of their mouth, so their ramblings set the stage for the upcoming season. It seems two story lines will be hit hard this season, alcoholism and anorexia. Bethany outs Dorinda as being a sloppy-ass drunk over the summer, and then Ramona claims she can't go prowling for ass with Sonja because she makes her look bad, shamelessly flirting and being belligerent.
Bethany does another hair flip of judgement, after remarking that the new gal, Jules Wainstein, is anorexic and it makes her uncomfortable. First of all, Bethany's entire brand is based on making women want to get skinny as fuck, eating her two calorie granola bars or drinking watered down wine, so you'd think she'd appreciate a walking skeleton when she sees one. Maybe she's just jealous because someone with a pulse is skinnier than her.
Jules is frighteningly skinny. The night after watching the show, I had a weird dream my knees were so knobby they knocked each other with every step I took, and I think it was because in Jules's intro I was taken aback by her so-skinny-she-looks-bow-legged-physique.
I'm sad to say, I foresee the demise of Carole's romance with the sexy twenty-something. I think there was major foreshadowing by her commenting on Romona's diarrhea mouth, that she should talk less and smile more when in the company of men. Come on Carole! It made her look like she's not being herself, and will be a pile of sniveling cries by the end of the season when there is a "I'm not coming back from Namibia" note in the mail.

After just writing that sentence, I realized there aren't any lesbians on the Real Housewives. Why are they Chick-Fil-A-ing? I've come to a reckoning with Chick-Fil-A. Tonight, we went because of the rain, and George fell in the play area and split open his lip. It was terribly sad, and sent my cortisol levels off the charts. At first, I looked at his mouth full of blood, dripping down his chin, and thought he knocked a tooth out. He is so tough, and didn't cry that much. After he calmed down, he started meowing, which was funny. Kiki said he was her cat, and she needed to get him home to take care of him. He asked us to call him Meow, and we obliged, telling him he will soon have a bath and saucer of milk.
Backing out of the Chick-Fil-A boycott for milkshakes, wi-fi and a clean play area was selfish, and it might seem convenient I'm rejoining the cause, because my kids are getting to an age where they can both sit at the table acting civilized, or because George might cry if he sees the giant Chick-Fil-A cow come towards him again, or because I'm sick of eating $30 worth of fast food because the kids are too excited to eat their portion.
For it being fast-food, that shit is not cheap. I once saw a woman come into the restaurant, led her kids into the play area with a bag of McDonalds, and she ordered herself a coke, abusing the free refills, while she read her phone for an hour. Thats a way to stick it to them. After George's fall, I should have called Bob Loblaw and cashed in a golden ticket. Goodbye Chick-Fil-A and goodbye pants, a treasure is upon us.