Mother’s Day is to the mommy blogger as the fourth of July is to Americans, or as Christmas is to the people with a picture of Jesus over their bed watching them masturbate. I’m supposed to say something infinitely profound on this sacred day of the life-giving vagina invented by Hallmark to sell cards and those horrendous Pandora charms, and to make women with no children and dead mothers feel really shitty. But I said masturbate in my very first sentence, so the chances of me being all inspirational is unlikely now, isn’t it? The truth is — I’m tired. I got nuthin’. Except hemorrhoids. I got hemorrhoids. Bum grapes. A direct result of becoming a mother, ironically. But guess what? I have the cure. And as a Mother’s Day gift to all ye mothers who suffer from assteroids, I will now kindly share it with you.


That’s right. The cure for hemorrhoids is not an ointment. It’s not a magic pill or drink. It’s your very own digit (not your ring finger, preferably.) Just push those fuckers back from whence they dangle. In a nice hot bath where nothing really counts including peeing, finger your own bunghole. Stuff those unwanted underwear guests where the sun don’t shine. And then pleasantly relish the activity we moms so seldom get to: sitting.

Happy Mother’s Day to you and your asshole. I’m sorry. I’m tired.