Giselle and I are like twins.

Hubs and I were sitting on the couch watching TV the night after the superbowl. I asked him “Did you hear what Giselle did?” dripping with contempt. He gave me a sidelong glance and said “Give her a break. You would’ve done the same thing. Worse even.”

I expected him to be mad at her for dissing the receivers on the Pats. For breaking the bro code of football. I started to get all pissy. All I heard was that I was just like this woman that everyone in NE was hating on right now. What? I am NOT like Giselle Bundchen.

She freely expounds on how breastfeeding should be like a world law, and mine are broken.

She talks about another woman’s son and says “But, to me, it’s not like because somebody else delivered him that’s not my child. I feel it is, 100 percent.” STFU.

She is a 6 foot tall amazonian supermodel and well, have you seen me? I’m just not.

Now she’s sticking up for her husband when some stupid drunk Giants fans heckles her after he LOSES the SUPERBOWL…wait. Wait, what?

Are you kidding me? That’s is totally what I would do. And my husband is right I wou’d’ve been hella bitchier about it. I would’ve named names and cursed them, and the heckler, out. Fuck that. Her husband just LOST the Superbowl that they could’ve won. (Now here is where I should say that Giselle and I probably have the same amount of football knowledge. So really can we say they should’ve won? Meh.)

DO NOT TALK SHIT ABOUT MY HUSBAND. He works hard and I love him. Giselle and I are like freaking twins! Twins I say.


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