Here is a Man and Look at His Hot Wife!

Daily Mail had such an egregious article title of how women are relegated to only being important for how they look that I had to share: 'Most comedy talent in one place!' Jerry Seinfeld beams at SNL's 40th anniversary as wife Jessica, 43, shows off toned figure.

Jerry gets to “beam” and be quoted while Jessica gets to tag along to show off her body, as if that is the only reason she exists, to be a pretty piece of arm candy for her husband.

She doesn’t even get to beam in adulation of her comic husband.

Oh! But don’t worry, while Jessica doesn’t get to say anything, at least her purse does!

“Her gold purse made a statement with the word 'Saturday' emblazoned across the front.”

Thank goodness she had her purse, or she might not have even known where she was or what day it was, huh?

And it’s not like Jerry doesn’t appreciate what he owns, as the writer sees it: “Still, the 60-year-old comedian appeared to be keen on showcasing something else - his 43-year-old wife's enviable figure.”

Oh yeah, uh-huh. I can tell that’s what Jerry is doing there.

Look at what Mail Online does next—Jerry must be happy, so that calls for a metaphor—you now, fancy writing: “The Seinfeld actor looked like the cat that got the cream as he wrapped his arm around the fit blonde.”

Jerry is a cat and his wife becomes an inanimate object.

But Daily Mail figures the photos can’t be enough, so we get a luscious description of Jessica’s body parts, errr, I mean, outfit: “Jessica's clingy purple Narciso Rodriguez jumpsuit called attention to her muscular arms, and its low-cut bodice put her cleavage on full show.”

Perhaps realizing how objectifying the article was becoming, the reader gets to learn that Jennifer actually is something besides Jerry’s wife: “The cookbook author completed the look with a black double-chain necklace and colorful dangling earrings. Her blonde locks were slicked back and she had on a bright red lip.”

Finally, we get a mention of Jerry’s attire: “Meanwhile Jerry looked dapper in a black tuxedo, crisp white shirt and black bow tie.”

Umm, yeah, his outfit just gets a sentence because we know what a man wears isn’t important, it’s what he does. So then we get a description of his experience of the SNL 40^th Anniversary special.

I understand that it’s a night about comedy and he’s a comedian and that’s why the article is about him, but why does his wife have to get turned into just an objectified thing for the night?

Can you imagine if Daily Mail wrote an article about one of the female comedians there with the title:  'Most comedy talent in one place!' Tina Fey beams at SNL's 40th anniversary as husband Jeff Richmond, shows off buff figure?

Sexual Objectification in American Apparel Must Be the Biggest Joke Played On Us EVER!

American Apparel Unisex Flannels...Hey, it's a flannel...button up!

American Apparel likes to push the envelope in their advertising.

And by "push the envelope" I mean they like to see just how much they can sexually objectify women in their advertising to get attention for their brand, but not push it so far as to lose their female customers.

But what I find so interesting is that it feels like they're mocking their customers with some sick joke to see just how glaring they can make their scheme before someone says--What the @#$%?!

Well, Business Insider's "American Apparel's 'Unisex' Ads Portray Men And Women Very Differently," was just enough to push my envelope into the--You're joking, right, American Apparel?!

The blatant sexual objectification of women wearing flannel shirts in all sorts of sexy, come-hither poses is absurd and demeaning next to the shots of male models wearing the same types of shirts all buttoned up and shown in normal day-to-day human activities.

Hey...What did I do with my pants?

They may argue it's "Art," but to me it just seems ridiculous.

Let's smoke and wear pants with our flannels! You know, because we're men!

I can't be the only one like--what are they trying to prove? Why would women buy from a company that thinks it's fine to let men have personalities and women only have sexuality?

You know you want to buy this jacket, ladies...

I mean, come on. Enough already.

Hey dudes, like my keen jacket?

It's got to be a joke, right?

Right?!

Fix the Banana

It’s kind of like a new show—Pimp My Banana, but then again, no, it’s not.

My three-year-old has not lost his terrible twos now that he is three, unfortunately. In fact, I’d say, he’s simply perfected them and made them into the threatening threes.

He screams, whines, cries at the littlest discomfort. You know, like when I don’t get every last crumb of granola scooped out of his bowl before we pour in the Cinnamon Munchies. Or when I tell him it’s time to put our socks on our feet, not our hands, when it’s time for school.

But this morning’s latest meltdown shines the light on how absurdly a three-year-old’s brain can work. (Yes, I know it’s not absurd, I mean, he’s three, but I digress…)

I told him he could have a banana—a whole banana—once he had on his coat and shoes for school. Well, with a bit more cajoling, he did finally put the aforementioned items on the correct body parts.

That’s where Dad comes in. He did not know that the agreement was for an entire banana, thus he peeled half a banana and broke off a chunk and tried to get away with giving our son just that one piece.

Oh, no.

The screams. The cries.

“Well, do you want this piece instead?” I ask as I hand him the banana still cloaked in skin.

“No, fix the banana! Fix the banana!” he shouts as boogers pool in his nostrils.

“I can’t do that, honey,” I say and even demonstrate that banana pieces will not restick themselves together.

I try all the tricks—offer him both halves, say it’s this or nothing, try to distract him with Lightning McQueen, but alas, the crying, it continues.

Finally, my husband scoops him up to walk out the door, “Here, take the banana.” He puts one piece in each hand, my son takes a deep breath, “Ok.” And they’re out the door.

Ah, motherhood. And bananas.