The Bloggers Anonymous blogspot dot com.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! (deep breath) AH hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! (wiping tears). It’s like they love me. First, Kelle Hampton names her son “D’OH!”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6GuEswXOXo
Then someone comes up with the idea that “there is so much negativity” out “there” that we really need to tickle each other’s taints with some hollow words of praise.
Hampton writes she feels like she has to admit to imperfections in order to get the “thanks for keepin’ it real” comments from readers, a necessity to get acceptance from the masses. To admit to a messy house, rolls of loose skin under her size zero yoga pants, a cavernous post-birth vagina, kids wearing last season’s knitted sweaters to the beach would be to succumb to the “sad symphony” so many of us sing tunelessly. She too wishes that she could collapse into a pile of Zoloft and Cabernet like some other bloggers you may know. If only SHE had the luxury of melting down on Heidi.
But then she remembers that she isn’t some lame-ass, complaining mommy bitcher like ME, she’s The Dutchess of Enjoying the Small Things. And goddamnit, there will be JOY! She declines to apologize for being better than all of us! There will be no relatable story with a conflict and a point in order to make YOU feel better about YOUR shitty life!
I’m just one of those mean girls her commenters complain about. Me and all the other GOMI (http://getoffmyinternets.net) readers and commenters hiding behind our Lane Bryant mumus and our computers, dexterously filling the interwebz with negativity. If I could just get out from under my pile of cats and go for a jog, maybe I wouldn’t be so unhappy that I have to attempt to bring others down.
I think they’re probably referring to the people who write critical and/or nasty comments on KH’s blog or Instagram, which I don’t do. I talk behind people’s backs. That’s the #1 job requirement for Catty Bitch.
Is anyone else gobsmacked by the irony of a post promoting the sisterhood (excuse me, the “sistah” hood) of women followed by a few dozen comments about mean girls and how much they suck? Sure, the occasional person points out that a “mean girl” is just another human who is hurt/hurting/abused (or maybe just HILARIOUS), but mostly, whatever a “mean girl” is, she doesn’t get to be part of the “sistah-hood” of rah-rah-rah mani-pedi goodness.
As usual, she’s wrong. We don’t want to know that another woman has cellulite and a dirty house so we can relate. We want to know those things so we can win.
Part of the reason I hate all the “Let’s stick together AS WOMEN” bullshit is because we are genetically hard-wired to compete. Watch one of those corset-era dramas, and be reminded how dirty and underhanded the competition for a good husband was. Has it changed? The only thing that is different as far as I can see is now women have the option to work ourselves into an early grave trying to support our families while the men K-Fed or Eddie Cibrian around the pools.
Marriage was life and death. We are not that evolutionarily far away from a time where beating out other females for a good male provider and protector meant the difference between your babies living and dying. In my view, this also explains why one of the top 5 blog queries about KH is “Does Kelle Hampton’s husband work?” Women want to know if Brett lived up to the promise of that gigantic diamond engagement ring in the photographs. Did she land a big fish, or did she wind up with a K-Fed (which, according to Urbandictionary.com means a man who “[lives] off his famous, hugely monied wife to achieve even the tiniest status in life”). With regard to Poppa, one would need to look up “Michael Lohan” or “Joe Simpson” for a definition.
The Dooce Divorce disappoints me because it was so predictable. Heather was crazy for Jon when he was powerful in her eyes. I don’t remember the particulars, but maybe he was even in a BAND. Swoons, a rock star. Drool-worthy fantasy to many. I picture them like the Jennifer Garner/Jason Bateman coupling in “Juno.” Perhaps she started snarking that he didn’t “contribute” more as she went about her high-powered mogul life. He was a “The Guy” kind of guy. Do you know “The Guy” guy? He gets it done. He knows people. He can handle it. Just let him make a few calls. Next thing you know, he’s collecting unemployment after losing the job his dad had to lay someone off in order to give him (it’s worse if it’s HER dad). Considering that fierce, primal competition for husbands, hers starts to look like less of a prize and more like something you need to unload. I wanted the Dooces to defy the stereotype because I was charmed by their love story.
Feminist movement or not, women compete with each other through their husbands’ jobs. The doctor’s wife is still at the top of the hierarchy, except in Los Angeles where the Hollywood wife reigns over all with her frozen, surprised face.
The Bloggers Anonymous blog, the Dove Company, and Kelle Hampton all want us to stop tearing each other down and build each other up! Except the “mean girls.” Fuck them. They’re just jealous anyway. We should all stick together! “We’re on the same team.¨ What could be less empowering than suggesting that all women are exactly the same because we all have ovaries? Which we don’t all have by the way (transgender women in the house, holla!). That we all have the same goals and should therefore cheer each other on. I will root for the ones I like and make fun of the ones I don’t. The idea that there is this group of “mean girls” out there just waiting to pounce on your daughters at school is just another example of how people take the shadow self, which we ALL have, disown it and make it something “out there” and “other.” As the reverend in “Footloose” said, “Satan’s not in these books. He’s in here,” (points to his chest), “In our hearts.” Not that I believe in Satan, but I do believe in John Lithgow.
The mean girl isn’t in these blogs. She’s IN HERE. She’s in our hearts. So let’s go sit in judgment on ourselves, describe ourselves to a forensic artist, and drink some wine. It’s a celebration, bitches. Enjoy yourselves.
The Friendly Pedant by Mrs. Odie 
You are always so refreshingly funny. And YOU don’t have to be self-deprecating to warrant a compliment from me. Blogs were so fun to me at first, when I was planning my wedding and shortly after the wedding. I even started my own blog. But now blogs in general – including my own – bore and gag me to tears. That’s all I have to say on that subject.
Once again you nailed it….epic! Please keep writing, and more often.
Mrs. Odie, please don’t publish my comments, I didn’t realize it would display my pic and such. ugh. I’m so brand new to this. Now I feel like Homer Simpson D’oh!
I changed that setting so it won’t happen anymore. Hope that makes it cool.
Giddyup!
I had to do a little research after I read this. First, was to see what KH named the boy because I had totally forgotten about all of that. Second, was to see what you were talking about with this new blog. What a waste of internet space. Keep it coming lady!
Mrs Odie, I never comment but I enjoy your posts. Good to see you back.
KH didn’t present much of a case. Why do I have to be supportive of manipulative self-serving women? I guess I’m just a mean wun, but I’m fair, I’m not supportive of self-serving men, either.
I LOVE THIS. yes. yes. yes.
God, I love you for putting into words exactly how I feel….please post more often!
Glad to see you write and post more. You have a talent writing about painful truth plus dark humor.
Again, spot on! Her writing is increasingly pedestrian. Would love to hear your take on her recent religion post. (My take? Shallow.)
I didn’t read it. I’ll have to check that out. Hate giving her the page views, but everything is a trade-off in life.
google cache is your friend 😉
I think Dash is short for *Dashel*: misspelled as unicorns are wont to do
As a fellow GOMIer, yes. To all this, yes. And is that Bloggers Anonymous thing a joke? How STUPID! Who would want to read that? Do people other than the bloggers posting on there actually read it? At least I have a cure for my insomnia now.
I see the point of women supporting women, and even the notion that “we’re all on the same team.” You know, because historically, we, as females, have been oppressed, treated like property, etc., etc. It would be lovely, I suppose, if, based on our history as females, we all wanted to rise above all that and help each other rise above all that. But it’s idealistic, obviously. And you’re right, we’re competitive by nature, which I’m sure served us in some evolutionary way, and maybe still does.
But yeah. For KH to claim a sisterhood is a joke. My understanding is that you only get to be in her “sisterhood” if you’re young, thin, attractive, well-dressed, and well off. Just another example of her depth that is exactly skin deep. And for fuck’s sake, I am sick and tired of her disciples (who really just want some of her glitter to rub off on them) falling back on “bitter and jealous” if anyone has anything less than ass-kissy about KH. A year – A YEAR! – after I wrote a negative review of her silly book, I still get comments trickling in telling me I must be bitter and jealous. Because there’s no fucking way I actually might have made some valid, worthwhile points.
I think you have excellent points as usual, Lisa. Sure, we share a history of oppression. I see it as a great sign that we don’t have to all stand together against men anymore. We have our own power as individuals. Sure, rape culture looms, but just the fact that we have named it is evidence of its inherent demise. As for your commenters on the book review, two words: cognitive dissonance. If I hadn’t closed my comments on older blogs, I’d still get them. Usually between 3 and 6 a.m. which is drunk dialing time in any time zone.
Sure, my writing is repetitious when I’m tired…
I still refuse to look at her blog since her 2nd daughter was about 2-3 months old. What on earth did she call her son??
She named him Dash (like the Kardashian retail store) Omar Hampton. D’OH!
Typically, I enjoy your blog. You’re funny and down to Earth and the ideas you have make me ‘lol’ at work. I go to Kelle Hampton’s blog when I need a break from reality. Her approach to life goes against my very nature. I am a pessimist, it can go wrong, it will. I wallow and feel sorry for myself. A lot of times I find myself shaking my head at her, and there are other times where I agree with her. I take her blog for what it is…a form of entertainment. Her post about Religion was right on the money for me. It’s a struggle I have every day since I don’t really know what I believe anymore.
But that’s not the point. I am in no way a Hamptonite. I do not believe that this woman shits rainbows and glitter. I think she’s going to have a very hard fall when Nella is no longer a cute toddler and her disabilities become more apparent.
I guess reading this particular post I was just a little shocked at the level of contempt you have for this woman who you will never meet. If you don’t agree with anything she has to say, the way she lives her life, or dresses or what shade of lipstick she’s wearing then why do you even give her the time of day? Wouldn’t it be easier to shake your head and move on?
Thank you for typically liking my bog and for commenting.
Was that an back handed compliment you just typed out? Because you lost me after you failed to take your own advice by “shaking your head and moving on”.
My favorite backhanded compliment: For a fat girl, you hardly sweat at all!
I love you
I just want to be friends.
Will you marry me?
Awesome and very well written post Mrs. Odie! I’ve lurked for a while, but this once just needed my slow-golf-clap 😉
Bravo!!
Once more, thank you for your dose of reality. GOMI would not *be* if bloggers didn’t “curate” their comments to avoid any unpleasant questions or truths. GOMI would not *be* if hyperfans didn’t feel they earn some prestige for loving their blogger and defending them against meen people.
Waaaaay back in the day I used to frequent a forum called “Isle of Whack” on Delphi. It was kind of like GOM-forum where other forums idiocy were brought to light. Those intelligent, independent thinkers were also so MEEEEN. I bet usenet groups were the same, though they were before my time on the internet (AOL was just hittin big when I was in college). Same old same old.
I personally don’t like to snark on mild things (unless you wear some crocs, then it’s on) but I am over the damn snark-shaming. It’s NOT shameful to stand back and take a look at that old Emperor’s new duds and say, “Hey… wait.”
Haven’t read the self absorbed one’s blog in a while but read a recent post and it appears good old Brett has been in the hospital for two weeks!! NO ONE is in the hospital for two weeks unless something is seriously wrong. I swear, she’s killing this guy with her psycho lifestyle. Oh well, she got the kids she wanted out of him and he seems to be a bit player in her faux life. Creepy POOOPA will step in I’m sure.
Back from the abyss!! Glad to see you’re still going strong!
She isn’t killing him, he’s just old
Ha! Poor Brettles. A ruptured appendix that went septic seems the likely culprit. Happy to hear he’s on the mend. Well, haven’t heard that, but the lack of Kelle posting selfies in a black veil, looking out a window with the reflection of raindrops on her tear-stained face imply it.
A ruptured appendix that went septic can only be the result of ignoring symptoms. I have no doubt Brett was too busy taking orders from his plastic wife and didn’t get permission from her to go to the hospital until it was well into a crisis!! He was probably cleaning the house to make sure it is always photo ready, taking care of the kids except for the twenty minutes his faux wife needed them for a photo shoot for her phoney blog and Kelle probably told him to wait on his symptoms until she got back from NYC or wherever she was with her other mindless blogger friends like Claire Bidwell Smith. Kelle Hampton’s priority is Kelle and that will never change. The next time Brett will probably be sprawled out on the floor and Kelle will step over him while taking pictures of her feet.
You know how men can be about doctors…
Claire Bidwell Smith. I’ve seen her IG feed. She’s a good drinker, that’a one. She is actually out in Naples partying with KH right now. Sweet!
amusing that psychotherapist claire is jet-setting to kelle’s. claire is having an affair with fellow favorite daddy blogger matt. maybe claire needs guidance from kelle.
kelle
makes
magic,
after all.
You must immediately explain all of this. I am intrigued and confused.
Do you know this for a fact? Can you link me to your corroboration of this? It’s a pretty big accusation, and I don’t feel comfortable letting it stand here in the comments if it’s libel. Is it libel or do you have some inside information? I notice this is all over the GOMI forums also, but people are claiming it’s just one person reporting it under different identities.
i guess now you’re the one who gets those “thanks for keeping it real” points. that’s what you were trying to do, right? why do you read her blog again? i guess you need some way to fill the rest of your day after you’ve finished responding to each and every comment on your posts since they are so sparse compared to kelle’s. d’oh! i get it now… jealousy. carry on.
Carry on my wayward son? They’ll be peace when you move on…..
WOW!
Now there exists a scorecard, of sorts, as to the length of comments on this blog ‘versus’ Kelle’s blog? SMH. And while we’re on the subject, is/will girth be a factor too? “Irene”, is it now? Your well-known, time-sucking (oh, dear!) trolling on “KH annoying” (for starters, what does that tell you?) boards is the stuff of Internet legend. Whenever Kelle effs ups and clearly cannot (as a Mahma and grown woman and part-time wife) fight her own battles, out come the same ol, fantasyland view of the world, yet, it IS some of the meanest spewing I have ever seen. What IS funny though, is it is SO off the mark, too. You are all ALWAYS missing the damn point in your pathetic efforts to defend A GROWN WOMAN and in her own words “A Public Figure.” Just as much as I am NOW choosing to leave this comment, I am choosing to “put myself out there”-I know what I am signing on for, as does KH when she blogs, IGs, etc. I am guessing part of “The Net’s” vanishing act contributes to the sheer exhaustion in doing just that. You, and the few enablers left, registering under various identities, including one who has issues beginning sentences with capital letters.
And this “jealous” thing? Huh. Jealous Of WHAT???
A train wreck in action draws more pity than jealousy. Literally & FIGURATIVELY!
So while I: Yawn. Stretch. Nap. Rinse. Repeat, keep spewing your special brand of transparent verbal PooPoo. (An aside: you DO realize it provides so much entertainment to the masses). Seriously. Sooooo, I will save you your own precious time and help you with your response.
Um, ok let’s see:
1) I’m Miserable. And Jealous of someone “I will never meet”
(Crap. People, NOW what do I do with that plane ticket to Naples? Up for grabs, dear readers! I, like, SOOOOO wanted be friends with Kelle and her Net, too. Shoot! Darn! Fudge!)
…m’kay, what else…Oh, yea..
2) Is there some light I need to go to, or crappy raft I need to be on, or I need to scratch my head about the analogy of it…
…or…GREAT RAVEN’S ODIN!…I GOT IT! I MUST:
3)…SHINE MY INNER FLASHLIGHT?
Oh wait. I probably don’t have one. My batteries are burned out. Maybe God forgot to install them as I am pre evil for leaving such a comment.
Now, run off in tears, wondering what the world is coming to, spend all of your limited time thinking how you will pontificate some typical (see 1-3 above) response, because it will be GOLD. In the meantime, I will perch a hipster hat, unintentionally a la clown style, on my head. Throw on some lace shorts with, um, striped tights. Socks with ruffles. Clogs. Maybe make a kale smoothie, extra chunks. In 90 degree weather. Wipe away some stray tears. Proceed to capture it all on my DSLR…I mean, my iPhone. I have to find said camera, I mean phone, cuz I never have them when I need them! So, I’ll wait.
Carry on, indeed.
It’s so funny how Hampton’s minions defend her like she’s the high school prom queen and they follow her around like ugly nerd wannabes. Fact is, Kelle Hampton doesn’t give a fuck about you Irene or her other minions You are all a way for her to make money and if you haven’t figured that out by now you are unbelievably igorant and gullible. I have never seen such a bunch of suckers than I have when it comes to the Hamptonites. You Irene, are a true asshole.
DOH! Got the lyrics wrong.
I want to reply to your comment, but apparently to do so shows how much TIME I have on my hands, unlike Kelle Hampton who is so busy and popular she cannot engage in discourse with her commenters. The prom queen doesn’t have time for the masses, but the theater geeks do.
You bitter hipsters are SOOO much more fun than smoothie sucking yoga pants crowd. Just sayin’. I covered everything in myhouse in glitter and they still don’t think I’m cool. You guys get it.
KH IS a bitter (wannabe) hipster!
I discovered KH’s ickiness by sheer accident. I don’t even know what I was originally looking for, but somehow stumbled onto a post that began with her musing on the passage of her youth “I put my twenties in a box after kissing them tenderly……blah blah blah…somehow I knew the box containing my thirties…would contain even more beauty..” Something along those lines. I was startled by it. That treacly pap I read left me gaping in horror. Does anyone REALLY speak this way? Think this way? Do the masses actually devour this sickly sweet sludge? Does it not constipate them, all this goo? It must! Oh, the horror…to be constipated from gullet to anus with sparkly pink cement saccharine pap! Ugh, I am nauseated just thinking about it. It can’t be true. This must have been written….ironically? She was possibly mimicking someone? Making fun? But no, the blog is filled to the hilt with little sparkly smily faced-dotted i’s and rainbows darting between the mincing hooves of dancing unicorns. It is a retch fest. A vomit carnival. Me reading it is akin to slowing down to gape at a car wreck. I am sick. It’s fascinating. Mrs Odie you are so much better at portraying the wreckage. I am merely a slavering groupie. Do carry on.
As for what the masses swallow, remember the popularity of Twilight and Forty Shades of Grey? There’s no accounting for taste.
Aw, man… don’t make fun of her kids. 😦
Nobody’s making fun of the kids.
What the hell…