(world’s largest sigh followed by eye rolling so intense it causes vomiting)
Video games are fun, I get it. I practically got an erection on Christmas morning, 1983, when I saw a present under the tree that was the exact size of an Atari 2600. I hadn’t even unwrapped the thing yet and I was already pissing my Yoda jammies from excitement. But I’m sorry, it just seems wrong for the Cub Scouts to award kids for playing video games.
Maybe “wrong” is not the best way to describe it, “lame” is probably more appropriate. Cub Scouts should be all about tying knots, burning stuff in campfires and watching your dad build you a kickass Pinewood Derby car, because let’s face it, he’s more excited about building that car than you are. Say, that reminds me, did you know you can now buy pre-built Pinewood Derby cars that require no effort other than slapping a few stickers on it? Fuck that! Pinewood Derby was all about seeing whose dad was awesome and whose dad was no better than a little girl. Want to know which dads have a sweet set of tools and which dads secretly give handjobs in forest preserves… you need look no further than Pinewood Derby day. Pinewood Derby was a thinly veiled pissing match for the dads and it should stay that way.
Where was I? Oh yeah, video games. Um… I’m bored with that subject, I should have made this post about Pinewood Derby. Fuck everything!
I share my toys and I also share signs my parents make me hold.
I’m writing this on my brand new computer! When a friend brought “Kidical Mass” to my attention this morning I was so filled with rage I literally ate my old computer. Yeah, I ATE a 27″ iMac!
I realize I just wrote about bike hipsters a couple days ago and have already taken a shit on “Critical Mass” but this is child abuse and it must be stopped. These poor kids are being turned into bearded hipsters and Bon Iver fans without their knowledge. It reminds me of the children of KKK members. Yeah, that’s right, Kidical Mass is exactly the same as the Ku Klux Klan!
Apparently this nonsense is designed to raise awareness about bike safety or something. Here’s an idea, keep your kids OUT OF THE ROAD! The road is for cars, not toddlers with poopies in their pants, struggling to stay upright on a SpongeBob bike. The last thing I need is some mini-hipster scratching my SUV when I’m trying to watch YouTube on my iPhone while driving.
Here’s the deal… If this is just supposed to be some fun family activity don’t name it after such a jackass event. Call it “Family Fun Bike Time Festival of Fun and Bikes!” Everyone (yes EVERYONE) hates Critical Mass except the hipster douchebags who participate in it, so associating your kid with such a bunch of misguided bullshit is lame. Just stay home and listen to Neutral Milk Hotel* as a family.
I’m taking a day off, but these childhood photos of Guy Fieri (Real name Guy Ramsay Ferry) should get you through the day. You can already see the seeds of douchiness beginning to grow. I just can’t believe he’s not a natural blond!
I want to take a time machine back just so I can fill his hat with that mustard, Bad News Bears style. Original Bad News Bears style, not that piece of shit remake!
Thank God your shitty kids don’t have to suffer through watching the same program while you DRIVE TO FUCKING WAL-MART!
Are you kidding me with this? It’s not good enough to have a DVD player in your minivan, now you have to have a TV that allows each of your horrible brats to watch their own show? No wonder every kid walks around like they are King Awesome. When did the world start revolving around white, suburban toddlers?
You know what my parents would have said to me if I asked for TV in our car? They would have said “What the fuck are you talking about? It’s 1978.” I was lucky that our car had FM radio, not that I was ever allowed to control it.
When I was about 8 years old we drove 1200 miles (each way) to fucking Florida from fucking Illinois in a fucking station wagon. And guess what assholes, there were four adults so the THREE kids had the pleasure of riding in the back ALL THE FUCKING WAY TO FLORIDA AND BACK. You know what that station wagon didn’t have? A fucking seat in the back so we rode on a hard slab of asbestos filled plastic. Oh yeah, you can forget about that little fantasy of air conditioning too. You know what the craziest thing about that trip was? The fact that all four adults and all three kids fondly look back at that vacation as the best vacation ever.
It was a great trip because we shared the same experience and we were connected as a family. Sure, much of the trip involved the car being pulled over to occasionally beat the children but we were beaten as a family and that’s all that matters.
The more “entertainment” you cram down your kid’s throats the more bored they become. Some of my favorite childhood memories involve lying down on the back seat as we drove through the country, watching the night sky float past as the AM radio filled the car with static-y warmth. Perfection.
If you were like me, you’d be more awesome. You would also have no idea who the fuck this creepy little twerp is. That is until now, the moment when I proudly ruin your life.
I can’t stomach children who act like adults and I especially can’t stand kids who act like the kind of adults you would like to hit in the balls with a shovel. More often than not, “performer” kids end up fulfilling this role. While most kids are setting crap on fire and punching each other in a kickass Kung-Fu fashion, these horrifying turds are jazz-handsing their way to a life of Bedazzled vests and cats named “Lady Precious.” I’m not talking about the normal brand of show choir nerd, I’m talking about weirdos like this Anthony Gargiula who try to eye-fuck you while singing “Sexual Healing” at Six Flags. I just want to eat this fried dough in peace, so please stop making love to my ears and go check your Underoos for poopies.
Good luck making it through these clips without digging your eyes out and jamming them into your ears.
I thought I was going to write about adults who still wear giant class rings but I stumbled upon something so disturbing and underground that I feel it is my duty as an American to shine a light on this ugly and repulsive phenomenon. I have just discovered there are graduation supplies for homeschooled weirdos. I will never be the same again.
I’m sorry but if you are homeschooled there are a few things you are going to miss out on. For example, unless you plan on having sex with your sister, there is a pretty good chance you won’t be getting laid at your prom. Truth be told, I did not get laid at my prom, but at least I had a chance! I had no chance. I did, on the other hand, manage to drive all the way home with my headlights off because I was so nervous, so I’ve got that going for me.
I mean, what could your graduation ceremony even consist of? Your mom draped in a bed sheet, reading off a long list of your high school accomplishments while standing on a kitchen chair? It’s not too difficult to be valedictorian or captain of the Bible team when it’s just you and your mom sitting alone in the kitchen 5 days a week.
From the beginning, let me say I agree with trying to be environmentally responsible and I do things in my own life to reduce my “carbon footprint.” Now that I have that out of the way… stop trying to ruin EVERYTHING you stupid hippies!
Earlier in the week I heard some dingbats on NPR babbling on and on about how to be “green” on Halloween. Not awesome green like a zombie, but lame green like your costume is made out of recycled toilet paper and yard waste.
They had some fantastic tips, like using a beeswax candle in your pumpkin because it’s more sustainable than paraffin, or having a composting party where you compost half of your kid’s candy. You know, the candy they waited all fucking year to collect. Yeah, just go ahead and toss their yummy candy in a bin with kitchen scraps, leaves and worms. Why don’t these parents go ahead and force their kids to dress as Ira Glass or Terry Gross* while they are at it. Dicks.
Do these busy-body hippie turds have to strip the fun out of everything? I’m pretty much a left-wing liberal but when I hear shit like this on NPR it makes me want to have sex with a bald eagle while Ted Nugent pours beer all over me. This program made me want to dress up as a Transformer this Halloween. My costume will consist of real, running motorcycles attached to my arms, a gas-powered lawn mower on my head and my feet will be two actual Hummers that will drive me from house to house. Oh yes, you will hear me coming down your block.
*OK, Terry Gross could be a good costume because you could play with the “gross” angle and be a zombie NPR host. Wait, no, forget I said that. That is the dumbest idea ever and I hate myself for not deleting it right now.
What do you do if your child is afraid to go to the doctor for a flu shot? Obviously your only option is to allow a doctor to sneak into their room while they sleep and stab them with a needle. Sure, they will never know the joy of a good night’s sleep ever again after you make their nightmares a reality, and they will most likely attempt to bury the dark memory of waking to a strange doctor in their bedroom jabbing them with a needle by getting deep into medical fetish sex as an adult, but hey… NO FLU!
This actually exists! On Earth! For less than $100 you can betray the trust of your sleeping child in his or her own bed. You think your kid was scared of the dark before? Just wait until he wakes up to find a creepy old man hunched over him with a hypodermic needle. You will be cleaning poop out of those Elmo jammies for months.
Why stop with flu shots? Hire the Shamwow guy to sneak in at night and yell math equations in your kid’s face. Maybe little Timmy will be quarterback one day if you start chucking footballs at him while he sleeps.
Middle of the night flu shot by The Shot Fairy… $80.
Turning your child in to a serial killer at age 5… Priceless.
