All the Name Dropping You Can('t) Stand

“So, you actually let someone cum inside of you? My mom told me never to do that!” squalled a guy with neo-nerdy specs who claims to have nude photos of his “ass” on his blog. (*10 p.m. Update -- This dude got naked in the hot tub. I always miss the good crap. I left only moments before.)

This was his actual response to my answer to whether or not I have kids. What the Hell has happened to party conversation (or me at parties)? Am I just that old? Honestly, I felt like that Polish guy who just woke up from a 19-year coma and said the “world had turned upside down” while he was out cold.

“Yes, that’s what I said. I have three kids,” I repeated, not really knowing what else to say.

“What? Are you a bottom or something? You bottom-out often?” I asked, flailing to recover from my fuddy-duddy, 30-something shock at his frank reference to how I came to motherhood in the first place, weak pun intended.

Yup, Saturday night I mingled with fellow bloggers at L.A. Daddy’s L.A. Blogger Bash in the Hollywood Hills.

Among other blog-heads I met clumsily carousing at the swanky Mulholland Drive digs belonging to the guy who wrote Shrek (Why not name-drop? Isn’t that what the complimentary name tags were for?) were the faces behind Sink Into the Pacific House of Prince, Frowning of a Lifetime (Sink's best friend) Rattling the Kettle, Tara Met Blog, L.A. Mommy Childs Play x2 JustinSpace The Red Stapler and, well, I suck too hard at social networking to have snatched the cards of anyone else I spoke with.

I think the only blog-ebrity I met by the jalapeno and artichoke dip was Stefanie Wilder-Taylor, former stand-up comedian and TV writer/author of Sippy Cups Are Not for Chardonnay. Her blog is Baby on Bored, which I only started reading after she commented on a bitchy posting I wrote about her appearance on The Today Show’s recent cocktail Playdates/mom-tini segment. So, lesson learned, I can still contract foot-in-mouth disease from the safety and distance of my laptop, tucked safely into the corner of chaos known as my kids’ playroom.

Stefanie and I briefly talked about our blip of online exchange and moved on to bigger, better, more controversial topics (that thrill overly opinionated mamas like me but might bore the childless into having distraction sex and getting knocked up) – breastfeeding woes, the family bed, to cut or not to cut, eh hem, circumcision, home birth, C-sections, breast reductions, fibroid cysts, etc. -- with the intelligent, goateed author of Rattling the Kettle and his naturally beautiful (refreshingly makeup free, I think) wife and her look-alike little sister.

I also learned at L.A. Daddy’s shindig that Tara, from Tara Met Blog, tested out some “horny juice,” with her husband for pay on her blog. How can I get my hands on some Tara-approved Brass Monkey? Motherhood’s blanched all the horny right outta’ me. Seriously, what I want to know is how Tara massaged paying deals with a swarm of retailers to blog her opinion about their products? All this product review talk has me thinking I should start a second blog that actually earns me some keep around here.

One other quirky conversational dangler from last night's L.A. Blogger Party:
A concept designer/architect named Justin went to a fun party a while back where Allie McEel sushi and Michael J. Pot brownies were served. Why can't I get invites to parties like that?

Oh, and you-know-who-you-are, when should we expect HollaBack.blogspot.com to be launched? I could be your first feed subscriber, although that's not much of an incentive.