There was a story in the Wall Street Journal today about mommy bloggers who are paid to recommend items on their blogs. Sometimes they’re paid with free stuff, sometimes with real moolah.

A lot of these mommies aren’t telling their readers that they’re being paid to say how cool certain strollers, diapers and pacifiers are. And now it looks like the Federal Trade Commission may be coming up with new rules for these mommy bloggers. They may get fined if they don’t reveal to their readers that they’re getting paid for their endorsements.

So in the interest of full disclosure, I just wanted you all to know that I am NOT being paid by any of the following products/services/entities I have mentioned in this blog. This includes but is not limited to Rider-Waite tarot cards, Monopoly, tattoo artists, the Department of Homeland Security, my yoga teacher, the Beatles, yurt manufacturers, Blackberry, George Lucas, cigar makers, melty bead manufacturers and the TV show Clean House.

I am not in the blog business for the money, people. I’m in it for the fame.

Hey homey, I ain’t got no real tattoo on me. Lemme give you the 4-1-1 on dat:

1. Ain’t no gangsta
2. Ain’t no sailor
3. Ain’t no part of the tattooed generation
4. Already gots a buncha funky looking marks on my skin and getting more all the time
5. Already gots sag on my skin and don’t need no magic marker looking thingy to point it out more

But when my homegirl suggested a tattoo for my Motherguilt logo, I was all like, “Yo my playah, that’d be tight.”

I didn’t want nothing whack for my logo. Not no girly girl colors, or ponies or butterflies. Because motherhood is tough, ya know? Tattoo tough. It’s permanent. It don’t wash off. Sometimes you get stabbed in the heart and you bleed but you survive, Sista Girl, you survive.

So my homegirl came up with this logo and now I’m thinking how fly this would look tattooed across my saddlebags. It would peak out over my jeans whenever I bend over, instead of my granny panties.

Hollah back, ya’ll.