When my kitties do it, they typically tussle around the living room. When Blogher’s get together, the cat fights happen online.

And the proverbial fur is a-flyin’ my friends.

It was the post that sparked a thousand “oh shits.” Last weekend, even before the festivities had officially kicked off, Blogher was buzzing. Someone had done the naughty, naughty—someone wrote that they hated mommy bloggers.

*Cue that hissing sound Mom makes when she’s mad*

So I have this policy. Although sometimes I’d *really* like too—so.hard.to.bite.tongue.here—I don’t write about bloggers I dislike. We have the same hobby and even if I feel their banal writing isn’t worth putting in a cage for my gramma’s parakeet to crap on, I’m not gonna say shit about it here.

But I will say “shit” here.

A friend of the haus asked me what I thought about Mommy Bloggate. I thought this was an interesting question being as I’m not a mother … but I could likely be considered a mother f*-er.

Thinking long and hard about this, I have to say censorship sucks. If there’s one place you should feel free to make catty comments while sitting in your undies (*hem* yes, I am rocking the Blue Mondays), it’s on the Internet.

That being said, I’m not particularly thick-skinned, (probably because I’ve split my pants in public more times than Lindsey Lohan’s had a nip slip), so I tend to eschew topics that will alienate large percentages of my readership, and concentrate instead on more crowd-pleasing fare—rectal exams, farts and boners, for example.

Plus the thing is, if I was going to attack someone in the blogosphere, I sure as hell wouldn’t go for the bloggin’ mommies. Those mothers are EVERYWHERE. I wouldn’t be surprised if—in an attempt to quietly take control of the WWW—they had some sort of alliance forming, a Mommy Mafia if you will.

I’d be afraid if I said something mean about the God Mothers, they’d send Sister Celeste out to hide by my basement and break my kneecaps. Or at the very least, she’d spank my ass with a spoon and put me in the corner.

Another reason I don’t mess with the mommies is that they have these fantastic powers. While I can only get it to shoot from my nose, mommies can get milk to spray out their breasts!

Tell me that’s not fantastic.

I mean, I can’t get my boobs to fill a B cup, and there are moms out there using theirs to nurture new life!

…

Oh who am I kidding, I can barely rock the A … but still, moms + boobs + controversy = I kind of love it.

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And what do you think dear hannihaus readers? I know we have a good mix of Mommies and Nonnies here—1,2,3 comment!

When I was a little girl, my dad always told me I could be anything I wanted to be. And I really believed this.

So when I decided at age 9—after reading tons of A.A. Milne and Joan Aiken— to become a writer, it didn’t seem unfathomable that 14 years later that’s exactly what I’d do—make a career of writing.

Yes, dear hannihaus readers, people actually pay me to write. Crazy, non?

Now if only I could get paid for eating organic raisins and smelling like a dirty hippy—then I’d *really* make bank.

But anyway, realistically, this be-anything-you-wanna-be mentality can only take you so far. While I’m sure it would be utterly fabulous, I could never be a Solid Gold Dancer or globe-trotting male model.

I simply don’t possess the requisite funk and junk, respectively.

So when I read today that Victoria “Posh Spice” Beckham is penning a new book, I pretty much crapped my pants.

Where does this one get off writing a book?

By her own account she’s never even read one.

In 2005, the British twit was quoted as saying, “”I haven’t read a book in my life. I haven’t got enough time…” This is an interesting statement coming from someone who published her own autobiography in 2002(!).

Seriously, asking Posh Spice to write a book is like asking a shaky, old granny to wax your hoo hoo—it’s probably possible, but it’s not a very good idea.

But there again, neither is wearing assless chaps in public. But that didn’t stop Posh.

Posh spice: when she’s not writing books, she’s out roping steer.

Happy Assless-Chap Friday everyone!