If You Can't Say Something Nice, I'll Do it For You for $10 and a Foot Massage (The Remake)
So I thought in its honor, I'd do something I never do: Reprint an old chestnut post back from the early days of Mom101 when there was some trolling business going on around the momosphere. Is it helpful? Not in the least.
Enjoy.
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When I was little I saw it as my sworn duty to befriend every new kid, every chubby kid, every weirdo booger-eating kid in my class. It’s always been second nature to put myself in other people’s shoes.
I credit good parenting for this. Also, Davey and Goliath.
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And if you come after my family, I'll cut you, bitch. I totally will. I have a baby nail clipper in my diaper bag and I'm not afraid to use it.
I suppose it's a bit paradoxical that now this relatively nice person finds herself here in the World of Blog--a forum where anonymity brings out
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Or worse: Mommy is mean. Yay!
So in honor of Thalia, I'm spreading some love from my insignificant little subdomain. I call it Say Something Nice Day at Mom 101.
In the future, maybe we'll have an entire Say Something Nice Month with its own website and a big section in the Hallmark store and a few treacly public service announcements. (Hey, maybe we can get Lorraine Bracco!) But for now I'll start with a day. A day devoted to saying nice things about ordinarily disparaged topics--all with as little irony as I can muster.
I'm just that kind of girl.
Richard Simmons
I sat across the aisle from him on a plane ride from LA to New York. While I admit that he was so, um, energetic that the cabin (quietly) applauded when he fell asleep, he couldn't have been nicer to the flight attendants. They each took turns sitting beside him and, hands pressed into his, confessed their every dietary woe. He listened attentively and with genuine compassion.
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New Jersey
If there were no New Jersey there would be no Judy Blume. And if there were no Judy Blume, I would never have been the most popular girl in fourth grade for one week, thanks to my copy of Forever which I shared with my entire class in the hallway ouside the school library. (Especially page 64, heh-heh.)
Cher
I'm all for gay marriage, and as such, I'm all for the music they play at their weddings.
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I guarantee you that those inspirational posters you find around the office have helped more than a few people out of some tough spots in life. I myself have looked at that You Don't Fail Until You Quit poster many a time and thought, you know, they've got a point there. Know why? Because you don't fail until you quit! It's true!
Mullets
You've got to step back a minute and appreciate the loyalty that some people devote to a hairstyle that's been out of style going on twenty years.
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Kids Who Go to Band Camp
Sure it's a good punch line; Universal milked it for like three American Pie sequels. But we need to encourage kids to play the clarinet or the tuba or the harpsichord so that they can grow into adults who play those instruments. Without music, what would people dance badly to at their high school reunions? And how lame would porn be?
Bridesmaids Dresses
At least you don't care when you spill your drink on one.
Jared From Subway
Let's give the guy some credit, he lost 250 pounds without
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The Advertising Team Who Writes the Ads with Jared From Subway
Take my word for it, they're not happy about it either. I'm sure the client is all, "Guys, you have to use Jared. He's testing really well in focus groups." And the team is all, "Fine, but I'm not putting it on my reel." Then they watch Nike ads and weep openly.
Fudgie the Whale
When I was a kid, Carvel ran commercials that said, "This Father's Day, get your dad a Fudgie the Whale!" Year after year, my dad would joke, "Where's my Fudgie the Whale?" After I turned 16, my best friend and I talked a gullible Carvel manager into hiring us as cake decorators. When I wasn't snarfing down the chocolate crunchies directly from the tub, I made my dad
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The Bloomin' Onion
If you have a problem with the Bloomin' Onion, you also hate America. This goes double for you, Upper East Siders.
Blogging
I'm stumped. I can think of nothing good to say because all bloggers are narcissistic navel-gazers who write about the most boring crap imaginable that no one, including their own mothers, would ever want to read in a million years. In fact I don't even believe that you're here right now.
Labels: stopcyberbullying