idiotprufs

Illegal in 38 states–frowned upon in the rest.

Archive for the tag “brat”

A Little Birthday Party Advice

deweySo you want to throw your sweet and precious child the perfect birthday party.

Note: I write sweet and precious because I’ve discovered if you refer to a person’s child as a dull-witted potato-faced brat, they tend to find offense–people are so sensitive.

Because this blog is nothing if not helpful, (I laughed a little bit there too) I’ve decided to publish a brief list of things not to do for a child’s birthday party.

Don’t hire a clown.

Clowns are evil and they prey on small children–most people don’t realize the movie It is a documentary.

Don’t hire a mime.  

Mimes will never break character regardless of how badly you need to speak to them. Whether it’s about something regarding your child’s birthday party, whom to write the check to, or if they would please stop miming inappropriate things about your wife–they won’t break character. And when they start to do that fake crying thing after you’ve become frustrated, you are forced (by law if my ballot initiative passes) to punch them in the gut.

Amazingly, they become all Chatty Cathy once the police arrive.

Don’t hire a guy in a SpongeBob SquarePants costume.

While SpongeBob is a beloved cartoon character, a guy in a SpongeBob costume is a six foot yellow crazy-faced monster that makes small children scream and pee their pants. And when it turns out the guy in the costume has warrants out for his arrest and steals, that’s just an added bonus.

Don’t invite that brat cousin.

We all have that one brat cousin with the overbearing mother (some of us have several) who just ruin everything. She yells, she throws tantrums, and she thinks everything is about her–and that’s the mother. The child is a torrent of shrill screaming misery: wrenching gifts away from her cousin as she screams mine with a voice that shatters glass, eardrums, and occasionally a human soul. She demands more cake even though her first two pieces of cake are spread over the drapes, the dog, the cat, and the inside of your couch cushions. She’s the reason your grandfather is always “losing” his hearing aide.

Also, she has a potato-face.

Don’t do the trick candles.

Don’t tell your child she can open her gifts after she’s blown out the candles on her birthday cake and then use those delightful trick candles that you can’t blow out–unless you want birthday cake smashed all over the wall. (Perhaps it’s time to concede the overbearing mother with the brat child is you.)

Just Listen.

When your charming and intelligent nephew (often referred to as brilliant by friends, acquaintances, and people who have seen him at a distance) suggests you hire a monkey in a cowboy hat, listen to him. Who doesn’t love a monkey in a cowboy hat? If you’re lucky it’ll throw a fistful of feces at that overbearing mother and her brat child. (Again, that might be you.)

Your child’s birthday party is still gong to be a disaster, there’s only so much I can do…your child is a brat.

You are welcome.

monkey

“I’ve got a fistful of feces with your name on it.”

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Resolve Me? Resolve You: 2015 Edition

calvinAs the new year has arrived, the annual acts of introspection, personal assessment and deep soul-searching are effervescing across the nation, inspiring the populace to acts of self-improvement.

Spurred by these acts of self-improvement, the New Year’s resolutions abound.

Some resolutions are to purge undesirable habits: smoking, picking your nose, being Justin Bieber, punching your idiot uncle in the face.

Some resolutions are to adopt desirable habits: a healthy diet, good hygiene, not being Justin Bieber, punching your idiot uncle in the face.

Note: go ahead and punch your idiot uncle in the face; he has it coming.

Some people resolve to simply approach life with a more positive attitude toward their fellow man, by improving themselves, they feel that they can improve others.

To all of this I have one response: Wake Up! Your fellow man sucks. You’re  awesome, it’s everybody else that needs to change.

To that end, here is 2015’s list of resolutions for others:

  • Don’t walk around on December 31st and say, “see you next year” to everyone you meet.
  • Don’t respond to that guy by poking him in the eyes and saying, “now you won’t” regardless of how appropriate it may seem.
  • If somebody says something you find funny, just laugh like a normal human being, don’t say lol out loud.
  • Don’t pepper your speech with the phrase “that’s what she said” in order to turn every innocuous statement into a double entendre.
  • Don’t pronounce the T in the word often, it’s silent, perhaps you should be also.

Note: I know pronouncing the T in the word often is a small thing, but for some reason it really irritates you.

  • Don’t ride your skateboard in the middle of the street; a skateboard has never won a battle against a Buick.
  • Don’t run around showing people pictures of a footprint that you think is indisputable proof of Bigfoot. Your wife’s sister likes to walk around barefoot, and she has hobbit feet.
  • Don’t name your new mooning garden gnome, Willard.
  • Don’t place your new mooning garden gnome, Willard, facing your neighbor’s kitchen window.
  • Don’t act all surprised when your new mooning garden gnome, Willard, is mysteriously smashed to bits in the middle of the night.
  • Don’t accuse your neighbor of things you can’t prove.
  • Don’t inadvertently set your garage on fire, while attempting to rid it of a hornet’s nest. The result is half of a garage and a cloud of pissed off hornets.
  • If you’re a fireman: don’t cruelly mock someone who’s garage is on fire.
  • If you’re a mime: don’t be.
  • Don’t drive around town in a pick-up truck covered with bullet-hole decals.
  • Don’t drive around town in a pick-up truck with a grill guard that reads: Dirty Harry.
  • Don’t drive around town in a pick-up truck, constantly honking a horn that plays Dixie, when you’ve never lived anywhere but western New York.
  • If the following three resolutions pertain to the same person and pick-up truck, and that person is you, just admit that you’re a jackass.
  • Don’t bring the express lane at the supermarket to a screeching halt by getting into a protracted conversation with the cashier, about your brother Alan. We’re all upset that he’s back in jail, but if you’re on probation you shouldn’t smoke crack.
  • If you’re on probation, don’t smoke crack in your car while driving over the speed limit…or on the sidewalk.
  • Don’t post proof of your probationary violations on Facebook with the description: look what I did.
  • Don’t tweet about your incriminating Facebook post just to make sure that everyone sees it.
  • Don’t drive slowly in the fast lane, you are screwing-up traffic in a profound way.
  • Don’t assure someone that you have beer in your fridge, and then hand them a Natural Light.
  • Don’t try to pretend that Natural Light is anything more than beer flavored water.
  • All babies look the same; put the damn photos away.

Correction: all babies look the same except for your baby; your baby looks like a potato.

  • Everything your child does and says is not precious, unless by precious you mean: annoying beyond the ability to be described with words, and possibly illegal.
  • It’s never good to start a story with the phrase: my child did the most precious thing juvenile court today.
  • Don’t get all pissy when you see something on a list you think may pertain to you; it does pertain to you, learn from it.
  • Finally and simply: don’t pretend you’re not a moron, if you are a moron (you all know who you are).
Willard R.I.P.  We barely knew you.

Willard R.I.P.
We barely knew you.

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