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Let’s talk about the one thing that’ll age you faster than a pack-a-day habit and a shitty spray tan: solo parenting. No, I’m not divorced (though if Handy Andy says “cozy” or “chilly” one more time, I might file the paperwork pre-emptively). But lately, I’ve been solo-parenting—and by that I mean running the whole Schimmel hyphen Haas household solo while Andy’s off doing whatever men do (probably Googling “best cargo shorts for men in their 30s”). There’s something so uniqu

The Real Housewives  franchise is more than just a show–it’s a cultural movement. It’s champagne-fueled chaos. It’s diamonds clinking against glasses. It’s women screaming, “Who said that?” across million-dollar kitchens. Since 2006, The Real Housewives  has captivated generations of reality TV fans worldwide. Each city brings its own flavor of drama, luxury, and total fucking delusion. And let’s be real… we love EVERY fucking second of it. You can hear me running my mouth ab

The leaves are falling, the air is chillier, and   Off-Brand October is in full swing . And the spirit of the season, I’m giving the girlies what they want. We’re talking tiny pumpkins, fluffy throw blankets, and the toxic candles. Jacquie is your fairy godmother here to bippity boppity boop your house into an autumnal masterpiece! Let’s be real–fall decorating is an absolute fucking shitshow. Pinterest is a dumpster fire. Instagram is a lie. And almond moms? Don’t even get m

I get it, traveling alone sounds like the kind of shit only bold women with bottomless bank accounts and European boyfriends can pull off. But here’s the fucking tea: you don’t need a man, a map, or even a clue to take on ANY trip by yourself. Paris ,  especially ,  has been romanticized to hell and back. From croissants on cobblestone streets to bitch ass Belly from TSITP  pretending she can actually  afford that apartment with her shitty paycheck, it’s a huge cliche. But on

Alright, buckle up bitches. Most dinner parties are the fucking WORST. Dismal fare, basic pleasantries, someone complaining about their “dietary restrictions” (grow up) and just complete lack of vibe and stimulation. If you’re going to force yourself into one of these soul-sucking hellscales, you’d   better make it a hate-themed dinner party. Fun for the whole family! This is a night where everyone gets to spit venom about the people/ places and things that keep them up at ni

Hold back your sighs. My next show on the Dim the Lights tour  is in glamorous Irvine, California (yes, tickets are still available ). Naturally, my inbox is flooded with a single burning question :  “ Jackie, what the fuck can you even do in Irvine? ” And to that I say: first of all, bless your optimism lol. Second of all, what isn’t  there to do in Irvine? Spoiler alert: most things.  Irvine is basically like the Stepford Wives met a chubby corporate real estate developer a