May He Poop On My Knee?

Who wouldn't mustard her hole?

Suck It, Dr. Drew

 

We were so looking forward to Life After Labor -- the season finale of MTV's 16 and Pregnant. Unfortunately, they let Dr. Drew be the host. And he had his pedestal all shined up for the occasion.

Dr. Drew must have been up all night writing his questions for the young moms, choosing just the right words to make each one feel dirty and ashamed in her own special way. ("Do you feel like you've given up on your dreams?" - "Would you say your mother is overbearing?" - "Are you sure you didn't try to get pregnant?") We spent the first 45 minutes cringing. 

But we were pretty much out of our skin when Dr. Drew rounded out the hour by taking a dump on an innocent bystander: breastfeeding.

It started when an audience member asked why none of the girls on the show seem to be breastfeeding. The teen moms responded with a babble of complaints -- about the pain of breastfeeding, how hard it is,* omg it makes your boobs feel like rocks!, I quit after a week, I didn't even try. Well blah blah blah Ginger. We can excuse their understandable ignorance.

Dr. Drew, however, cannot be excused.  As we watched in horror, Dr. Drew, looking like the wolf that bit Old Yeller, broke in and shouted that breastfeeding "HURTS!!" Laughing with fake empathy - as if he, too, could remember the dark days when his breasts were engorged with milk - Drew took a turn for the glib, chuckling that a lot of people have "romantic ideas" about breastfeeding and hinting at a reality far more deadly.

We were fairly shocked after this little performance. What the hell is Dr. Drew's problem with breastfeeding?? One wonders if Similac bought him a brand-new SUV. Maybe a big tit killed his father. We really can't say.

What we can say is: Suck it, Dr. Drew. We hope he gets the message.

* That's what she said.

The Diaper Pool: Revisited

Last Friday we checked in to a tony new resort in Palos Verdes, California for the holiday weekend. Later that evening (after fueling up on fire water in the hot tub), we were poised to drunk-dive into the empty swimming pool when a young man in a monogrammed polo shirt appeared and informed us, in the soberest of tones, that the pool was closed for the rest of the day. Why? Well -- "There was an accident."

We pictured a broken neck, spinal fluid on the pavement, shattered dreams; a fatal fall from the waterslide, blood on the water, vacation turned tragic.

But it turns out we had it all wrong.

You see, the accident actually occurred in a kid's pants. (In a kid's pants??) Well--in a kid's pants in the pool. (Were the pants, by chance, disposable?) You bet your ass they were!

We can't say we didn't see this coming. As The Daily Doo reported last January in The Diaper Pool: Doo Not, the practice of allowing incontinent infants to blaze a brown trail through the big-kid pool has blossomed -- like a mushroom cloud of osmotic diarrhea -- into a poopy pandemic. So please -- if someone you love is a plastic pant smasher, please don't place that person in a hotel swimming pool this summer. Despite what you might otherwise believe, your fellow guests probably don't appreciate spending $400 a night to backstroke through your kid's BM.

Heidi Hospitalized For Undisclosed Excuse To Quit Reality Show

Please direct your thoughts and prayers to Heidi Pratt and her contractually obligated loved ones.

Last night, reports surfaced that Pratt was rushed to a Costa Rican hospital for an undisclosed excuse to leave her job with reality show "I'm a Celebrity . . . Get Me Out of Here". With bated breath we await news of the waxy starlet's recovery, scheduled to be announced at least 12 hours after her name tops the list of Twitter trending topics.

We look forward to seeing Mrs. Potato Hooters' cobbled together, synthetic ass back in action soon.

The Diaper Pool: Doo Not

Ah, January. With the value of Christmas cards falling faster than Tara Reid's nipples, we can now look forward to months of cold, sun-scarce days peppered with a few bullshit 3-day weekends and, the grim sucker-punch to singles everywhere, that Hallmark holiday,Valentine's Day.

How do these people live with themselves?

But, for the lucky among us, there is the promise of President's Day: a ski trip (sunglass tans, lumberjack breakfasts, and delightfully effortless weight loss); a cruise (buffets, bloating and shame in the Caribbean); or a quick flight to Cabo, where the hoity-toitiest resorts indulge your every desire. Including, as pictured above, your desire to take a diapered baby into the big-kids' pool.

During a recent (and purely salutary) stay at the superlative Cabo Azul Resort -- conscientious rapper Common was also present, with a shapely lady friend in tow -- The Daily Doo watched in horror as spoiled, undeservedly wealthy young couples shared precious moments with their Huggied infants in each of the hotel's three exquisite infinity pools. Effectively, these people are teaching their children a very important lesson: that the world is, indeed, their toilet. And where we come from, that shit just don't play.

Like many of you, we were relegated to a baby pool until our sphincter muscles were sufficiently developed that we wouldn't inadvertently take a dump in our bathing suits. Call us old-fashioned, but if you're wearing a diaper, you don't get to swim in an infinity pool. You get to swim in a baby pool, a bath tub, or a body of water large enough to dilute whatever accidents you are sure to have in your disposable pants. You'll have plenty of time to swim in the adult pool, where you can do all of the alcohol-induced peeing your continent heart desires (it's the perfect crime). In the meantime, use this as a motivation to sit on the potty like a big girl or boy and dream of bigger things.

Years ago, our Aunt Virginia kept a sign nailed to the wooden fence next to her above-ground pool. The sign read, simply: "Please don't pee in our pool; we don't swim in your toilet." Substitute "smash your diaper" for "pee", and the message is three times as true.

Wherever your travels take you this non-holiday season, if your child wears diapers, please be responsible. Everyone around you will know what horrors may lurk in your precious baby's poo-pants -- and, without being too presumptuous, I think it's safe to say that they would prefer not to spend their vacation steeping in it.

For the rest of you: happy new year!