Category Archives: offenses

take back the bars

A tipster emailed us last night to report a baby-hating moment that really warmed our ice cold hearts:

I was at a bar in Williamsburg that had a huge backyard, full of hipsters and this one couple with a toddler. Everyone kept shooting the kid death glares. Then (maybe because of telekinesis?) the kid tripped and hit his head. He started screaming and no one went over to help the parents. Don’t worry he wasn’t bleeding or anything. The parents couldn’t believe no one helped them and they packed up all their shit and left. While they were walking to the door several people loudly “whispered” “why would you bring a kid to a bar?!”

Nice work, Williamsburg. Remember, if one breeder has a bad experience at a bar they’ll send out the sanctamommy bat signal and tell all the other parents and their kidlets to stay away. Your bar should be safe for now.


sanctamommy bloggers banned from free publicity

The only thing more annoying than a sanctamommy is a sanctamommy with a blog – just read Storked if you don’t believe us. Now, a website called MomDot, which is a networking site for sanctamommies and their blogs, has told their members that they have to spend a whole week without posting about any of the free shit they get in the mail. MomDot says that their bloggers should be “real” for one whole week and post about stuff their kids do or their husbands say or whatever else it is they write about.

The real problem is not that sanctamommy bloggers are giving free publicity to the people who send them free shit. IT’S THAT THEY’RE GETTING FREE SHIT IN THE FIRST PLACE. They already had baby showers and now they just keep getting more? What is this, mommyblogger welfare? Fuck that noise.

Anyone who would like to send Josie and me and our happy empty wombs some free shit should email us. After a long day blogging, reading hate mail, and dodging parents who use their kids’ strollers as battering rams on the street, we deserve a Calgon day.

mtv glorifies teen parents

MTV is apparently getting into the horror movie genre with a summer series called 16 and Pregnant. Each episode is about a different knocked up 16 year old. It’s some of the best birth control we’ve ever seen. Plus, one of the chicks names her kid Bentley. Like the car. Total winner right there.

manhattan partygoers stand up to pregnant chick

Have you ever had to wait in a ridiculously long line for the bathroom at an overcrowded party in a loft space that has one bathroom for a thousand people? It is not fun. Last night, there was a party for Paper Magazine in a similar situation. We got this email from a tbti informant:

Last night at the party , there was this preggo chick who kept cutting the line to the bathroom and this one woman was all HELL no I don’t give a shit if she’s pregnant I’ve waited for this fucking bathroom for an hour!

Everyone clapped.

Well done, residents of the island! Stand up to the people who think they’re better than you because they’re spawning!

another thing the world doesn’t need

DailyCandy sucks. If you’re lucky enough not to know what that is, it’s this corny daily email newsletter that clues you in to what’s “hip” in the city you live in. But since like 12 bajillion people get this email, it’s not so much about what’s new and cool as it is about what’s already over because the whole fucking world knows about it. This is the kind of email newsletter that tells you about Magnolia Bakery and tries to act like it’s the new big thing instead of something that’s overpriced, always full of tourists, and wasn’t even cool two years ago. If I want that, I’ll just read the New York Times Styles section. Also, the newsletter always has some picture of some annoying-looking “cool” girl, who is probably some hack artist’s idea of what is cool but just wears clothes left over from the Sex and the City set. It’s like if you tried to dress like a Sex and the City character but bought all your clothes at Contempo Casuals.

Wait, I’m getting distracted. The REAL point of this blog isn’t to make fun of annoying women who think Carrie Bradshaw is a role model, it’s to make fun of their children. Because there’s nothing brain-dead trend whores like better than spawning to make themselves feel important, DailyCandy also has a kids’ edition. Because what your kid really needs is a $500 haircut or a $2,000 snowsuit. Here’s a sample email from them:

They could have knocked you over with a feather when your babe emerged a blue-eyed blonde.

But her penchant for stylish togs made it clear she was your child.

So head on over to Feather Baby, where you can stock up on modern pieces for the baby set. Made of Peruvian pima cotton, the line runs the gamut from smock dresses to long johns for kiddies under 2.

There’s no upchuck of pale pink and baby blue here; rich hues and subtle prints mean they can be worn by either sex (three cheers for hand-me-downs). And reasonable price tags justify the cuteness (eat your heart out Phillip Lim and Marc Jacobs).

Expect to get the stink eye on the playground since your kid will be the best dressed.

Just consider it the feather in your cap.

Available online at

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go eat Magnolia cupcakes until I barf.

most annoying restaurant ever opens in west village

The only thing more annoying than Christians saying they’re all persecuted and shit is breeders acting like just because they can’t take their damn kid wherever the hell they want then they’re being oppressed. Whatever. I’m not allowed to run around a restaurant screaming and throwing shit, and your kid shouldn’t be allowed to do it either.

Some people who have been rich and privileged their entire lives, Luke and Julie Janklow, have opened a restaurant in the West Village with the most annoying name ever, Sweetiepies. Wait, I change my mind. The name isn’t as annoying as the concept. It’s a place where you can eat really, really expensive food with your little monsters.

Here’s an excerpt from a completely useless, fluffy article about the restaurant in the NY Observer, which almost made me barf all over myself.

Mr. and Mrs. Janklow soon concluded there was no cool restaurant in the West Village where you could bring your kid, even their beloved Waverly Inn. In particular, Mrs. Janklow had in mind the places her parents used to take her growing up in Beverly Hills. The sophisticated yet pedestrian, slightly theatrical restaurants, which are unique to Hollywood and function not only as an extension of the industry but also a local haunt where a kid can delight in the glinty surroundings and a grilled cheese and Mommy can feel glamorous sipping vodka.

“I realized that there was no place to go for Easter or Mother’s Day or just for a day out; there was no place to go with my son,” she said, between puffs of a cigarette on a recent afternoon in the back room of Sweetiepie, where a mural of Mrs. Janklow’s own design festoons the wall. A Star Wars storm trooper here; a zebra on the hood of a hot rod there. Mrs. Janklow had her dark hair parted Joan Baez–style, and wore all black, a black faux fur coat on top. “It just got me thinking that when I was a kid, growing up in Beverly Hills we had those places—and they weren’t places like kids’ restaurants, they were just places that were theatrical because back then most of the restaurants were done by set designers. So you’d go to the Luau and you were in a Polynesian village, not some cheesy low-budget place—it was actually done by the real deal. Or you would go to Trader Vic’s or Chasen’s and it was glamorous. And as a kid you went into this sophisticated setting that was also childlike.”

I’m not sure, but these might be the two lamest paragraphs ever written. It is just so hard for ridiculously rich people to take their perfectly fantastic glamorous children with them everywhere they go. Waah, waah.

Also, who the fuck sips vodka? Everybody knows vodka is for TAKING SHOTS. I mean, if I had a kid with me at a fancy restaurant I wouldn’t just sip the vodka, I’d be guzzling it.

cross the four seasons off the zagat list

Those of you who live and/or work in midtown are probably used to loud screeching noises and crying brats. But there was an unusually high amount of noise centered around East 52nd Street yesterday, so we went over in disguise to find out what was going on.

To our horror, yesterday, Aug. 15th, was “Children’s Day” at hallowed NYC institution The Four Seasons. Here’s what New York magazine had to say:

Since it’s never too early to cultivate a taste for expense-account dining or mid-century-modern design, The Four Seasons has declared August 15 Children’s Day, which means tykes and teens from ages 5 through 14 can eat for free at the “Almost Grown Up Luncheon” in the Pool Room or the “Junior Executives Dinner” in the Grill. Two children per adult, and don’t dare ask for a kids’ menu.

Yeah, it’s never too early to teach kids how to be douchebag executives or ladies who lunch. After all, they’re going to grow up to be just like mommy and daddy, right?

Can’t there be any things that are reserved just for grownups? Kids don’t need fucking “mommy and me” spa treatments or virgin cocktails. When I was a little kid I watched my mom get ready to go out somewhere fancy with my dad and dreamed about getting to do the same thing one day. Little did I know that now there’s no point in growing up because now kids are treated like mini-adults, even though they act like babies. You can give your precious snowflake an expensive meal, but she still might throw a tantrum at dinner or say that the foie gras is gross. It’s OK to make shit not be kid friendly.

We would totally boycott the Four Seasons, but we could never afford to go there in the first place.