idiotprufs

Read by four out five drunken monkeys–written by the fifth.

Archive for the tag “comedy”

Is There a Klingon Word for Non Sequitur?

klingon

A typical Klingon driver: uninsured and irresponsible.
(image source: startrek.com)

How many times has this happened to you?

You approach a stoplight as it’s about to turn red. Being a responsible driver, you slowly apply the break and come to a complete stop.

Suddenly you hear the screeching of tires behind you. You brace yourself for what you know is coming. You hear the sound of crunching metal as you feel the shock of your vehicle being struck from behind.

You stumble from your vehicle, slightly shaken, trying to rub the pain from back of your neck. As you survey the damage, you see the driver of the other vehicle stomping toward you from the corner of your eye. “Are you okay?” you ask as you turn to face him.

“Rah arg bah,” he bellows into your face. A blast of hot putrid breath startles you and sends you reeling. You try to steady yourself as you wipe the spit from you face. A sinking feeling comes over you with the realization that you’ve just been rear-ended by a Klingon.

“Do you have insurance?” you ask apprehensively, aware of the fact that Klingons are notoriously irresponsible drivers.

“Mok tuk bah,” he sneers derisively as he jabs his crooked Klingon finger in the direction of the stoplight.

“Listen mister, that light was clearly about to turn red.” You call him mister hoping that he’s male; it’s so hard to tell with their weird wrinkled faces.

“MOK TUK BAH,” he screams at you with even more force.

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” you calmly reply, again wiping the spit from your face. This time his spit seems to contain chunks of something that was recently alive. You vomit in your mouth a little.

A lengthy argument ensues. Tensions flare. In the heat of the moment you say something unfortunate about the virtue of his Klingon mother being defiled by Captain Kirk. You soon discover–at ridiculous odds– that this is the one phrase that translates directly from English to Klingon.

You find yourself staring at the end of a menacing Klingon weapon of war.

You swiftly make an attempt to apologize. You now discover the phrase “I’m sorry” in Klingon roughly translates: stab me repeatedly.

As you lie on the pavement bleeding to death, you wonder if a better grasp of the Klingon language could have helped you avoid this grisly end.

To reiterate my initial question: How many times has happened to you? It hasn’t…ever…and it never will. Klingons are a fictitious race from a fictitious planet invented in the mind of Gene Roddenberry.

However, there is a Klingon language; a language that people endeavor to learn and speak.

Why would a person endeavor to learn and speak a language spoken by a nonexistent race? I decided to ask a person who makes a habit of publicly speaking Klingon.

The following is a verbatim recalling of that conversation–apart from the bits that are a result of my faulty memory–with Klingon speaking Ed.

Note: His real name isn’t Ed. I’ve changed the name to protect the innocent. The innocent being myself; Ed’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

Me: So, what’s up with this whole speaking Klingon thing?

Ed: Isn’t it obvious why I speak Klingon?

Me: I dunno, have all the normal ways in which you repel women begun to fail?

Ed: MOK TUK BAH.

Me: Nope, (wiping the spit from my face) you’re as repellent as ever.

Ed: Klingon is the language of a noble warrior race.

Me: Of course it is. It just seems to me that it would be more useful to learn a language you may encounter on this planet, such as French.

Ed: French is hardly the language of a noble warrior race.

Me: Point taken. What about Spanish, a lot of people speak that language?

Ed: No way, Mexican food gives me gas.

Me: Does it? I’m curious, is there a Klingon word for non sequitur?

Ed: I don’t know what that is.

Me: You don’t know what a non sequitur is, or a girlfriend who isn’t imaginary.

Ed: What’s your point?

Me: My point is: speaking Klingon doesn’t seem very useful.

Ed: Not useful? People don’t screw you when you speak Klingon.

Me: Really, you speak Klingon and people screw with you constantly.

Ed: That’s not true.

Me: Yes it is.

Ed: Name one time.

Me: Well, I’m pretty much screwing with you right now.

Ed: I don’t think so.

Me: It feels like I am.

Ed: Klingons are hyper-aware of their surroundings.

Me: You do realize you’re not a Klingon?

Ed: Of course I do; I’m more of an idiot savant.

Me: Well, you’re half-way to an idiot savant.

Ed: MOK TUK BAH.

I wiped the spit from my face as I watched him storm away in a huff.

Note: Klingons never storm away in a huff.

So the next time you get rear-ended at a stoplight, rest assured, it won’t be a Klingon. If you’re lucky it won’t even be someone who speaks it.

klingon driver

Freaking Klingon drivers.

Physically Fit to be Tied

image credit: TMZ

image credit: TMZ

“Are you physically fit?” bellowed the man on the television screen as he jabbed a muscular finger in my direction.

“I don’t know,” I exclaimed, a bit startled by the suddenness of the question.

“Are you physically fit?” he persisted. This man was loud, muscle bound, and so deeply tanned that where ever he was, he must have been near the surface of the sun.

“You’re getting older,” he continued.

I am getting older, I thought, nearly every day.

“Do you even know what it means to be physically fit?”

I had to admit that I really didn’t.

“Of course you don’t know what it means, you’re a tiny pathetic weed of a man.”

I still didn’t know what it meant, was a little insulted, but wished that someone would tell me.

“Well I’m going to tell you.” He seemed to be reading my mind. “Physical fitness is the ability of the body to function with vigor and alertness, and with ample energy to engage in leisure activities. Endurance and cardio respiratory integrity are the overt signs of physical fitness.

Well this was absolutely no help at all.

My body functions with vigor and alertness, in as much as I seldom fall asleep when I don’t want to. I have endurance; I can run over one-hundred feet before the searing pain in my side renders my unconscious. As far as cardio respiratory integrity goes, my heart’s been beating for my entire life and hasn’t stopped yet, how much more integrity do you need?

Ample energy for leisure activities? Any activity that requires an amount of energy that can be characterized as ample, isn’t leisurely at all.

Here are a few activities that I don’t consider leisurely: running, jogging, speed walking, walking normally over long distances, walking slowly up an incline, lifting heavy objects, carrying heavy objects, lifting then subsequently carrying heavy objects, rock climbing. Rocks should never be climbed, if you’re trying to get somewhere and there is a rock in the way, go around it or blow it up. Why do think Alfred Nobel invented dynamite? They didn’t name that award after him because he wasted his time scrabbling up and down rocks.

It was at this point that the man on the screen began doing squat-thrusts. There has never been a time in the history of mankind that it was necessary to do a squat-thrust.

I decided to change the channel. Eventually I found a man reclined in a hammock, sipping a drink through a straw as waves washed a sun soaked beach in the background.

Now that’s a leisurely activity; one for which I have ample energy.

idiotpruf

Goofy has the idea.
image source: wondersofdisney.com

Just a Few idiotprufs

Wile E. Coyote

Wile E. Coyote, idiotprufs legend.

Idiot: a dolt, a dullard, a mentally deficient person, the guy who drives down the road with his seatbelt hanging from the door making sparks on the road.

idiotpruf: Any lesson learned as the direct result of an overt act of idiocy, or the observation of an overt act of idiocy. An act that proves that you are in fact an idiot.

Example: If you don’t want to be mocked by other motorist; don’t drive down the road with your seatbelt hanging from the door making sparks on the road.

I’ve been compiling a list of idiotprufs based on my own acts of idiocy, from observing the acts of idiocy of others, and from stories I’ve been told.

Just a Few idiotprufs

  • Regardless of how far your garden hose sprays; you’re still too close to the bees nest.
  • Being asked,”and what did we learn today,” as bee stingers are being pulled from your face, is the epitome of adding insult to injury.
  • Don’t try to remove a hornet’s nest from your garage by burning it out; you will wind up with half a garage, and a hornet’s nest.
  • You never want to find out the quantifying measure for the phrase, mad as a hornet.
  • Firemen like to say snide things as they hose down the side of your garage.
  • Regardless of how sturdy an umbrella seems, it is not an adequate substitute for a parachute.
  • You can be lying in a crumpled mass in the dirt, broken bones (some of them relatively important) jutting through your skin, and the first thing an adult will think to say is “what in the world did you think would happen if you jumped off the roof?”
  • Never try to pound a nail into something above your head using the dull side of a hatchet; misusing a hatchet in this way might cause its head to pop off.
  • A hatchet head only has to fall a foot or two to cause a considerable amount of damage to a human skull.
  • Head wounds bleed a lot.
  • If you don’t want to be bitten by the big brown snake; don’t poke at it with a stick.
  • Snake bites bleed a lot.
  • The average household vacuum cleaner is not designed to pick up paperclips; attempting to do so may cause the average household vacuum cleaner to explode and catch on fire.
  • A burning vacuum cleaner may also ignite the carpet.
  • A burning carpet will set off every smoke alarm in the house.
  • Smoke alarms are loud.
  • Melting Play-Doh in a frying pan seems like a brilliant scientific experiment to a child.
  • That child’s mother: not so much.
  • Burning Play-Doh will set off a smoke alarm.
  • Smoke alarms are loud.
  • One errant sock in the laundry can turn an entire load of whites into a load of pinks.
  • “Hey, you know that pink sweatshirt you love so much?” is not a good way to tell your roommate that you’ve turned the laundry pink.
  • A healthy dose of bleach will turn anything white.
  • A healthy dose of bleach will also give you a pile of really white rags.
  • “Hey, you know that really white sweatshirt full of holes you love so much?” is not a good way to tell your roommate that you’ve used too much bleach on the laundry.
  • A car that has been run out of motor oil, is less of automobile, and more of giant metal traffic clogger.
  • Asking your girlfriend, whose car has been run out of motor oil, if she knows why it’s called a dipstick, is a really bad idea.
  • When your girlfriend asks, “how stupid do you think I am?” she is not looking for a quantifying answer.
  • The phrase “some day we’ll look back at this and laugh” doesn’t always apply.

Seriously, I literally have hundreds of these.

I’m finding that everybody has some, do you?

Addendum

The actual word idiot-proof is a misnomer; there is nothing a true idiot can’t screw-up when given the chance.

idiotpruf

Exactly.

Don’t Swing a Dead Weasel if You’re Not Going to Use It

weasel as weapon

Weasel / Weapon

It is no coincidence that no language in human history has ever coined the phrase: as useful as a dead weasel.

In fact, if you’re on your way to do something and you think to yourself, I could really use a dead weasel for this, you’re probably about to do something that falls somewhere between foolish and a felony. How many times on “Cops” has the arresting officer commented, “this would have merely been foolish, but you were swinging a dead weasel.”

In fact, if you’re on your way to do anything, and you spot a dead animal and think to yourself “it’s my lucky day,” just turn around and go home.

There are certainly a few times when a dead weasel can be useful, but most of those occasions involve hillbilly wedding rituals, or hillbilly wedding dinner options.

Note: your best-man toast should never involve a dead weasel in any capacity, not within the toast itself, and certainly not as a prop. It’s a mistake that will haunt you forever, if the bride doesn’t kill you first.

Which brings me to the point of this post:

A man in Hoquiam, Washington confronted the current boyfriend of an ex-girlfriend.

Generally a bad idea.

He confronted him swinging a dead weasel.

Always a bad idea.

“Why do you have a dead weasel?” the boyfriend asked him.

“It’s not a weasel, it’s a marten,” he replied.

Note: it’s a small distinction but an important one. Ex-boyfriends who display the proclivity to swing dead animals, tend to be very pedantic.

He then punched the boyfriend in the nose and ran off. Begging the question: why in the world would you bother carrying a dead weasel to a confrontation if you’re not going to use it?

He was later tracked down and charged with assault and public stupidity.

When asked why he was carrying a dead weasel, he matter-of-factly replied, “what are you stupid, live weasels bite.”

In a weird twist, the authorities reported that it wasn’t a weasel or a marten, but a mink.

I don’t know if fur is murder, but it’s definitely felony assault.

The man was eventually acquitted. Evidently the prosecutors “failed to prove a link to the mink.” The prosecutors reportedly failed to do several other things that rhyme.

When asked if he had learned any valuable lessons, the man replied, “yeah, if you see something dead on the side of the road, leave it be.”

Perhaps if he had brought his girlfriend a mink when they were together, she wouldn’t have broken-up with him.

The mink had no comment.

weasle jail

I swear, I just wanted to make her a stoll.

 

Bieber Doll Beat Down

justin bieberLast year an off duty police officer in Denver was arrested for allegedly assaulting his girlfriend. He claimed he was acting in self-defense. He claimed it was because he was fending off a vicious attack. He claimed his girlfriend was wielding a weapon.

What type of weapon would pose a threat so great to an off duty police officer, that it would necessitate assault against a woman?

  • A gun?
  • A knife?
  • A big stick?
  • A small stick with a sharp point?
  • A rolling-pin? (This applies mainly to Andy Capp’s wife.)
  • Mace, the medieval weapon?
  • Mace, the chemical irritant?
  • MACE, the Middleware Architecture Committee for Education? Sure, they seem like geeks, but they will rip you up.
  • A big rock?
  • A little rock, if you chuck it really hard?
  • An arrow poked into your eye?
  • An arrow shot from a bow?
  • A bow tie? (Wasn’t there a Bond villain named Bowtie, who used bow ties as a weapon? Well, there should have been.)
  • A Ukulele? (You wouldn’t be smirking right now if you’d ever been hit with a ukulele.)
  • A Justin Bieber doll?

That’s right, he claimed she was wielding a Justin Bieber doll.

I imagine the interview between the arresting officer and his off duty colleague, went something like this:

Cop: she attacked you with a what now?

Suspect: you heard me.

Cop: I really don’t think I did.

Suspect: she attacked me with a Justin Bieber doll.

Cop: is “Justin Bieber doll” her pet name for a machete?

Suspect: no. She attacked with an actual Justin Bieber doll.

Cop: is it possible she hit you with a lead pipe, and in a concussed state, you imagined it was a Justin Bieber doll?

Suspect: it wasn’t a lead pipe; it was a Justin Bieber doll.

Cop: was she was wearing brass knuckles at the time?

Suspect: no.

Cop: could it have been a brick with Justin Bieber’s face painted on it?

Suspect:  look, I have little Bieber face imprints all over my body. It’s horrifying; they’re just so smug.

Cop: was the Justin Bieber doll constructed of steel?

Suspect:  no. It was just a regular Justin Bieber doll.

Cop: I don’t want to write that down.

I don’t know whether he was lying or not, but in the entire universe of possible lies, is that the one you would tell? Here’s a short list of things you could be attacked with, that bear less of a threat to your manhood:

  • He-man doll.
  • G.I. Joe doll.
  • Any Star Wars action figure (Including Ewoks).
  • Raggedy Andy doll.
  • Raggedy Ann doll.
  • Ken doll.
  • Barbie doll.
  • Career Day Barbie.
  • Beach-wear Barbie.
  • My Little Pony.
  • Mr. Potato Head.
  • Mrs. Potato Head.
  • Cabbage Patch Kids.
  • Cabbage.
  • Small children throwing cabbage.
  • Tickle Me Elmo.
  • Justin Bieber himself.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to downplay how terrifying it must be to have Justin Bieber’s tiny face, repeating crashing into you. That’s an experience that haunts you forever… just ask Selena Gomez.

bieber doll

Not to be used as a weapon.

Thank You Anti-Toy Gun Zealot for a Classic

christmas story

It was a chance encounter with a woman wearing a button that read: DISARM THE TOY INDUSTRY, in angry block red letters.

It’s all a Government plot to prepare the Innocent for evil, Godless War!  I know what they’re up to! Our committee is on to them, and we intend to expose this decadent Capitalistic evil!

She told him as she handed him a smudged pamphlet denouncing the U.S. as a citadel of warmongers, profit greedy despoilers of the young and promoters of world-wide Capitalistic decadence, all through plastic popguns and Sears Roebuck fatigue suits for tots.

It was this encounter that led Jean Shepperd to recount his youthful almost maniacal desire for a Red-Ryder carbine-action range-model BB gun, and the lengths he went to one Christmas in efforts to obtain one.

He then wrote the autobiographical essay, Duel in the Snow, or Red Ryder Nails the Cleveland Street Kid, which became the basis for A Christmas Story.

So thank you crazy lady for helping give us a classic.

Have a Merry Christmas, I triple dog-dare you.triple dog dare

 

Idiotprufs’ Guide to Gifts not to Give

bad gift

You said you liked my armpits that way.

We all want to give the perfect gift for Christmas. The gift that will brighten a child’s face. The gift that show thoughtfulness and caring. The type of gift that will result in moments that will be cherished forever.

Well that’s not going to happen because frankly, you’re a moron; the best you can hope for is to not screw things up too badly.

Since I’m practically an expert at screwing things up badly–I mean, I am shockingly good at it–I am going to assist you in what gifts not to give.

Don’t give your goth cousin a bottle of skin bronzer. Just because she’s a goth doesn’t mean her flesh will burst into flames if it’s exposed to real sunlight. It’s Holy water that does that.

Don’t give your still single aunt, a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, because the only way she’ll find a man, is if she constructs one herself. She will not find it as amusing as you do.

Don’t give your girlfriend, and I cannot stress this too strongly, a self-help book of any kind. Especially if that book had the phrase “for dummies” in the title. Just don’t.

Don’t give the guy your cousin is dating, this book, when what he really needs is a swift kick in the butt.

bad cousin

Come on man, open your eyes.

Don’t give your aunt a jar of anti-wrinkle cream and bottle of wart remover. Regardless of how badly she needs them, the gifts won’t be appreciated, and the resulting scowl on her face will only intensify the wrinkles.

Don’t give your uncle, who likes to hunt, that bottle of scent-masking spray he’s been asking for. The first thing he’ll do is try it out, and nobody wants to sip eggnog while they sit next to someone who wreaks of deer urine.

Note: Your uncle generally wreaks of some type of urine, but that stuff is just obnoxious, and he wears it like it’s cologne.

Don’t give your uncle that book of vegetarian recipes; he’s just going to use it’s pages to start the fire he uses to roast the woodchuck he hit with his pickup truck.

Don’t get your vegan cousin that Chia Pet. It looks entirely too much like bean sprouts growing out of tofu, and eventually he’s going to try to eat it. He’ll be rushed to hospital, and your entire family will blame you.

Don’t get your aunt and uncle that home drug testing kit. While it may be applicable, your cousin carries a blade, and she will catch up to you.

Don’t get your wife a rat trap.

Note: I have no joke for this; one year my uncle bought my aunt a rat trap for Christmas. True story.

Don’t give anybody, anything that has Justin Bieber on it. Why: because it has Justin Bieber on it. Enough said.

Don’t get your boss this mug; he may not have a sense of humor about it.

boss coffee cup

Why does everybody laugh at me when I drink coffee?

And finally, don’t give your grandmother that DVD of Deliverance; home movies can be so tedious.

Good luck, you’re going to need it.

gift

I don’t know what’s in here, but I’m certain it’s crap.

 

Don’t Say it to Your Boss

The people have spoken, and Don’t Say it to Your Boss has edged out Bad Idea Fireman. You asked for it.

office spaceMonster.com has compiled a list of things not to say to your boss. Let’s take a look at their list:

  1. I need a raise.
  2. That just isn’t possible.
  3. I can’t stand working with__.
  4. I partied too hard last night–I’m so hung over.
  5. But I emailed you about that last week.
  6. It’s not my fault.
  7. I don’t know.
  8. But we’ve always done it this way.
  9. Let me set you up with__.

I know–this list is ridiculous and useless.

I’ve made some subtle changes to the entries. Here’s what you really can’t say:

  1. I need a raise; I can barely steal enough from the office to keep up with the rising cost of cocaine and hookers.
  2. That just isn’t possible. I need to take two hours for lunch; it difficult to get properly drunk in one hour.
  3. I can’t stand working with these voices in my head; they keep telling me to kill again.
  4. I Partied too hard last night–I was almost too drunk to have sex with your wife.
  5. But I emailed you about that last week; I directly indicated to you that a reactor core meltdown was imminent, it’s not my fault if you don’t check your email.
  6. It’s not my fault; how was I supposed to know bringing my pet chimpanzees to work would be frowned upon…I’m sure that feces will wash out of you hair.
  7. I don’t know. I would be better at my job if your woefully inadequate leadership skills didn’t fail to inspire me on a daily basis.
  8. But we’ve always done it this way…you galactically incompetent prick.
  9. Let me set you up with my cousin; she’s one of those genuinely well manner Neo-Nazi skinheads.

Do see how much better this list is?

As prime example of what not to say to your boss, here’s an event that actually happened at a place where I worked, involving my supervisor, a coworker named Bill and myself.

Supervisor: I think I should go on a diet and shed a few pounds before summer.

Bill: You don’t need to lose weight; you’re pleasantly plump.

(Several moments of painfully awkward silence.)

Supervisor (her face turning a shade of crimson): I’m what?

Bill: you’re pleasantly plump.

Supervisor: I’m plump am I? Plump is what I am? I’m plump?

Bill: no, you’re pleasantly plump.

Supervisor: so my plumpness is pleasant to you?

Bill: I like a girl with meat on her bones.

Me: wow, I can’t believe you thought the word meat would make this better.

Supervisor: so I’m plump and meaty. (turning to address me) Do I look pleasantly plump to you?

Me: (frightened): pleasant is not a word I use to describe you at the moment.

Supervisor: but am I plump?

Me: no.

Bill: There’s nothing wrong with having some junk in your trunk.

(She literally became so angry she couldn’t speak.)

Me: you really need to stop the words from coming out of your mouth, Bill.

She tortured Bill for weeks, screaming “watch out, there’s fat coming through,” every time she walked by him. It was funny.

You can now go to work secure in the knowledge you won’t say the wrong thing to your boss.

Christmas turkey

Remember: plump and meaty is fine when describing your Christmas Turkey, but not when describing your boss.

Help Me Pick My Next Post Topic

Wile E. Coyote

Wile E. and I are kindred spirits.

Several months ago I was having a dream.

In this dream my uncle was trying to chop my face off with an ax. He was chasing me through the woods and he seemed very determined in his efforts. He seemed to be enjoying himself a great deal. He was reminiscent of Jack Torrance from The Shining, but much more disheveled and maniacal. As ax wielding maniacs go–he was good at it.

Why would my uncle be chasing me through the woods with an ax? He has issues…and an ax.

Note: if my uncle were to chase me through the woods with an ax, it wouldn’t be the worst thing he’s done to me. He’s a miserable backstabbing rat-bastard of a human being, and I’m sugar-coating it.

Jack Nicholson

Here’s Miserable Backstabbing Rat-Bastard.

Anyway, I awoke from the dream and had a brilliant idea for a blog post, it would be the single funniest blog post ever written.

I quickly jotted the idea down, lest I should forget, and went back to sleep.

The next morning I looked at what I had written: Bad Idea Fireman.

I had absolutely no clue what it meant. I had absolutely no clue what I was thinking when I wrote it down. I had nothing.

Was it a bad idea to become a fireman?

Was it a bad idea a fireman had?

Were firemen a bad idea in general? That seems unlikely unless I was alluding to the firemen in Ray Bradbury’s dystopic tale, Fahrenheit 451. A great book, but not really full of laughs.

It’ll come to me I thought.

It didn’t.

It still hasn’t months later, and I had forgotten about it until I stumbled upon it today in my drafts section.

Then I had a thought (it happens): my drafts section has become cluttered with half-written posts and neglected ideas; it’s time to change that.

Here’s a short list of some of the unfinished posts:

Why do Hillbillies Have Weird Faces?

This search term popped up on my stats page. It’s a compelling questioned that deserves an answer.

Why Sea-Monkeys are Better Than Your Cousins.

I’m not certain why this one wasn’t finished, it practically writes itself.

Don’t Say it to Your Boss.

I found a list of things not to say to your boss at a work relations website. The list was woefully inadequate; I could immediately think of a half dozen ill-advised things I’ve said to bosses, that weren’t on the list.

Where is Bigfoot and Why is He so Damned Hard to Find?

Answering this question would wipe out half of the programming on Animal Planet.

Bad Idea Fireman.

Your guess is as good as mine.

Vote for the post you want to see, or leave a comment, or do both.

Dear Overbearing Parents of Talentless Brats

brat

Isn’t this precious?

Please stop showing me pictures of your baby.

The first fifty pictures of your little bundle of joy were all pretty much the same. If you’re going to inundate me with this barrage of maternal pride, at least mix it up a little. Dress the kid up like a gladiator or a pirate; give me a reason to at least feign interest.

I know you believe every human on the planet desires to see endless streams of photos of your child. You believe we have an innate need to gush over your child, and shower him with flowery praise.

We do not.

What people say: what a beautiful baby you have.

What people are actually thinking: holy crap your baby looks like a lizard. His skin is weird and his face is all smushed. Is his father a sleestack?

sleestack

Daddy?

 

I know it’s popular to refer to your child as a miracle, but your getting pregnant because your half-wit boyfriend doesn’t like to use a condom–not exactly the Virgin birth.

The ugly truth: children grow up to be people, and people are jerks. In fact, I know your kid’s father, and he’s a jackass. That poor kid’s wading out of a gene pool that’s shallow, stagnant and filled with parasites.

And stop acting like everything your child does is precious.

Your child dumped mustard in the fish tank: not precious.

Your child shaved the dog: not precious.

Your child painted clowns on your living room wall: honestly, this one’s funny.

Once on a flight from Buffalo to Syracuse, I sat in front of child who sang the Alphabet Song at the top of his lungs for the entire trip. Unfortunately he didn’t know the alphabet, so he just shouted random letters and kicked the back of my seat.

His mother thought this was precious; I did not. It would have been preferable to be chained to the back of a jeep and dragged over broken glass from Buffalo to Syracuse.

Forget water-boarding, if we had this kid at Gitmo, we would have had Osama Bin Laden years earlier.

Note: do you think the parents of future terrorists think it’s precious when their children make toy bombs from Play-Doh and pretend to blow-up infidels?

It’s advantageous to never discipline your child; who doesn’t love a good “my child did the cutest thing in juvenile court today” story.

Maybe if Jeffrey Dahmer’s parents had made him eat his vegetables, things would have turned out differently.

Let’s all get together and stop praising our children for things that are clearly not praiseworthy.

Parent: isn’t this picture my child drew wonderful?

Friend: it’s beautiful.

Friend #2: your child is so talented.

Me: really, I think it’s crap. The colors are horrible, the lines are all wrong, and you can’t tell what it is. Is it a dog or a horse or a Volkswagen; there’s no way to distinguish. She’s also put the sun and the shadow on the same side of what ever that thing is. She clearly has no aptitude for art or science.

Do you know what happens when you constantly praise your child for things she’s bad at? She wastes three years at college majoring in art, when in reality she’s crap at it. Then she comes home with a giant face tattoo, and informs you she’s dropped out of school to focus on her poetry, which she’s also crap at. Then when she tries to find a real job, and the following happens:

Interviewer: Your application seems fine, and we’d like to hire you, but there’s the issue of your face tattoo.

Her: What do mean? This tattoo is an expression of me, and who I am.

Interviewer: I’m not saying it’s not a brilliant tattoo of a dragon’s penis, but here at Chuck E. Cheese, I’m not sure it would fit our image.

Her: My mother says this tattoo is precious. She says everything I’ve ever done is precious. She even refers to me as “her precious.”

Interviewer: it also bothers me that your mother is Gollum.

gollum

Mommy?

 

Let me be clear, I don’t think you should squelch the dreams and aspirations of children. You should squelch the delusions of talentless brats with overbearing parents.

And we should probably do something about the parents.

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