oh no they didn’t!

Aside from hating babies and trying to take over the world (or at least the island), we spend our days reading celebrity gossip. Gawker, the fugs, Perez–they’re our gals and gays. We especially love the dear departed Fametracker. Celebrities vs. things– brilliant feature. It’s like baby vs. something better–except we like both celebrities and things.

Why is this relevant, you may ask. I’ll tell you why. Because loathsome baby blog Babble, which caters to our exclusive enemies “the new urban parent,” has started the grossest and most offensive of features– famecrawler.

Eeeeeeew. I can just see them thinking this up. A gaggle of disgusting women (one of whom actually uses a pic of her kid as an author photo), half of them pregant, the other half wearing shirts with spit up on them, sitting around a coffee table with a muffin basket saying “How can we make ourselves relevant again? Well, we have babies. No one likes babies. People like celebrities, though. And celebrities have babies. If we talk about celebrities and their babies, then people might like us, and maybe our husbands will even have sex with us again.”

Let’s just say celebrity parents are the worst. They barely see their children except to dress them in designer clothing, use them for photo-ops, and wax self-righeously in interviews. In response to famecrawler, we’re introducing a counter feature, uncreatively called public enemies, a.k.a. people we need to sterilize. Each week, we’ll introduce you to a celebrity mom or dad, who needs to have their tubes tied, pipes cut, or adoption license revoked.


Our first target is new mommy Sheryl Crowe. We used to like her, back when she was a boozy rocker chick who wasn’t afraid to nail her male groupies on tour. But is she ever eating this motherhood thing up. Within two weeks of getting a kid and inflicting the name Wyatt on him, Crowe has already hired Julia Robert’s nanny to the stars and has staged a photo-op feeding the baby in the middle of the Ralph Lauren LA store.
Oh Sheryl, if it makes you happy it can be that bad.


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