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idiotprufs

the blog that made the pope laugh so hard he peed himself.

Archive for the tag “children”

Why You Shouldn’t Show Me Pictures of Your Grandchild

Happy Photo Purveyor: would you like to see photos of my grandchild?

Me: not especially.

Happy Photo Purveyor: but she’s just so precious.

Me: believe me, your voluminous and unremitting descriptions of her are all I really need.

Happy Photo Purveyor: you absolutely have to see them.

Me: I’m certain that’s not the case.

Happy Photo Purveyor: you’ll regret it if you don’t.

Me: I’m feeling the regret already.

Happy Photo Purveyor: let me get my phone out.

Me: so this is happening.

Fifty photos later.

Happy Photo Purveyor: if liked those, I’ve got hundreds more.

Me: great! Let me just remove this ice pick I’ve jammed into my eye.

Happy Photo Purveyor: her name is Liz; can you guess what that’s short for?

Me: I don’t know.

Happy Photo Purveyor: just guess.

Me: I don’t want to guess.

Happy Photo Purveyor: just guess–it’s obvious.

Me: It’s obvious? Is it short for Lizard.

Several moments of uncomfortable silence.

Not As Happy Photo Purveyor: why would her name be Lizard.

Me: she looks a bit like a lizard.

Even more uncomfortable silence.

Unhappy Photo Purveyor: my granddaughter looks nothing like a lizard.

Me: not all of her–just her face.

Still Unhappy Photo Purveyor: people say she takes after me!

Me: I wasn’t going to bring that up…but yes she does.

Several moments of awkward and uncomfortable silence followed by some decidedly unsilent moments.

Pissed Off Photo Purveyor: (growling through clenched teeth) my granddaughter looks nothing like a lizard!

Me: You’re right. There are however some lizards that bear a striking resemblance to your granddaughter.

Apoplectic Photo Purveyor: I’m never showing you another photo again!

Apoplectic Photo Purveyor storming off in a huff.

Me: mission accomplished.

And that’s why you should never show me photos of your grandchild.

This is Liz. Guess what Liz is short for.

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Slacked-Jawed Neighbors and Their Spawn


As the weather turns and provides respite from the bitter cold and the mountains of lake-effect snow that Lake Erie has so generously dumped on you all Winter, you feel a sense of relief.

A sense of relief that is quickly shattered by a sudden realization: all of that cold and snow provided a sort of barrier, a buffer, between you and your slack-jawed neighbors. And more crucially, between you and your slack-jawed neighbor’s slack-jawed reprobate spawn.

You’ve so much to look forward to in the coming months: bicycle tracks through your yard, cigarette butts littered about, bansheelike wailing throughout the night, the occasional acts of vandalism, and stench of sulfur that alerts you to their presence.

In the great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania you are not allowed to taser minors.

What the hell were those pin heads in Harrisburg thinking?

It seems there is no physical barrier that can thwart them:

  • Electrified fence
  • Razor wire
  • Electrified fence with razor wire
  • Moat
  • Moat filled with alligators
  • Moat filled with piranha
  • Moat filled with alligator sized piranha
  • Moat filled with acid
  • Moat filled with acid resistant piranha
  • Moat filled with acid resistant alligator sized piranha

It seems futile until you stumble upon the one thing that makes them scatter like the disgusting little cockroaches they are: Holy water.

Maybe it won’t be such a bad Summer after all.

Why do you think they built that wall in China? It was the freaking neighbor kids.

Let’s All Just Start Accepting the Truth


Wouldn’t life be easier if we all just told the truth?

Wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t sugarcoat things?

Wouldn’t it be better if we just accepted things as they are?

Imagine a world where we didn’t have to censor ourselves; a world where people didn’t get their shorts all twisted up in a bunch over every little thing you say.

Example:

Easily Offended Individual: don’t you think my baby is beautiful?

You: what do you mean–for a lizard?

Easily Offended Individual: I mean beautiful for a baby.

You: a baby lizard?

Easily Offended Individual: for a baby person!

You: your baby looks like a lizard.

Easily Offended Individual: people say the baby takes after me!

You: you have lizard eyes.

Easily Offended Individual: you’re an ass!

You: but I’m an ass with normal eyes.

Easily Offended Individual: you can go to Hell!

See. If people would just accept the fact that they have a creepy lizard baby, everything would be easier and there would be a lot less occurrences of people who were only being honest, being punched in the face by angry women who are most likely suffering from postpartum depression.

I’m just saying.

Lizard like reflexes.

 

Squire Sebastian Senator


name tag
A woman has recently cancelled a baby shower because her family and friends are less than fully supportive of her choice of names for the child.

I personally find it reprehensible for a person’s loved ones not to be fully supportive, regardless of how ridiculous this woman’s choice of names may be.

Sure, her choice–Squire Sebastian Senator–is a bit odd, but just think of the character her son will develop by being repeatedly beaten as a child.

What kind of heartless animals are this woman’s family and friends. 

She posted the following statement to Facebook:

“Dear Members of the Squire Sebastian Senator baby shower. I have a really important announcement to make. It brings me pain to have to tell you this, but I am cancelling the event.”

Exactly what I would do. Screw all those people who want to give you a bunch of free stuff; a baby doesn’t need things like diapers or clothes or formula, when he has such a regal sounding name.

Her post went on to read:

“Y’all have been talking s— about my unborn baby. AN UNBORN CHILD. How can you judge an unborn child??”

Some of you might argue that people aren’t talking shit about the child as much as they’re talking shit the THE UNBORN BABY’S batshit crazy mother. Well, you people disgust me.

Her post continued:

“He will not be allowed to have a nickname, he is to be called by his full and complete first name…”

You may thinking the child will receive nicknames regardless of the mother wishes. Nicknames such as:

  • The Kid Who Gets Punched A Lot
  • Crazy Ladies Kid
  • Squire Sebastian Stupid-Face
  • Seabiscuit
  • Squire of Turdville
  • The Kid Who Runs Away From Home A Lot
  • Dwayne

The woman defended her choice, claiming her family is descended from a long line of “both squires and senators.”

She went on to write:

“If you look back in our family tree, the survival of this clan is literally rooted in squiredom. We are all related to senators too. This name conveys power. It conveys wealth. It conveys success.”

I wholehearted agree with this assessment; I am overwhelmed by its undeniable brilliance.

You may be thinking that while the survival of this woman’s clan is literally rooted in squiredom, the child’s survival will be literally rooted in his ability to runaway very quickly from other children throwing rocks. Shame on you.

I wish I had a name like Squire Sebastian Senator. My name is Larry; its sheer boringness has crippled me.

I applaud this woman and I hope she has a dozen more kids, all named as regally as Squire Sebastian Senator.

Godspeed good woman.

Addendum: I’m considering having my name legally changed to Lord Larry Legislator. Then I can just sit back and wait for the power, wealth, and success to start rolling in.

squire boy

Squire Sebastian Senator, but I call him Dwayne.

Your Children are Loud, Sticky, and Gross

bratty child

Your child in one of her calmer moments.

Your children are loud, sticky, and gross.

So don’t vilify me just because I don’t want to hear them or see them or smell them or just be in their general vicinity. And I most certainly don’t want to touch them–unnecessary and unwanted touching is exactly how the Black Plague proliferated. Flea infested diseased riddled rats have taken the blame for far too long–it was filthy little children like yours.

And don’t try to tell me I should treasure your children’s presence because all children are precious. So is uranium and I don’t want to be around that.

Let’s Compare: it causes weakness, fatigue, fainting, confusion. Bleeding from the nose, mouth, gums, and rectum. Bruising, skin burns, open sores on the skin, and sloughing of skin. Dehydration. Diarrhea, bloody stool. Fever. Hair loss. Nausea and vomiting. Organ failure and even death.

Uranium causes many of those same things.

Uranium, however, doesn’t scream like a psychotic brat at the top of its lungs because you didn’t give it an extra piece of fudge–uranium knows its already had enough and so should its mother.

So you and precious children: just leave me be.

Addendum: If you believe there is the tiniest shred of a chance this post is referring to you and your children–it is!

 

uranium

If you need someone to watch your uranium or your children–I’ll take the uranium.

It’s Just a Fact

Every parent believes their child is an adorable, angelic, bundle of perfection.

brat

You are horribly mistaken!

(You know who you are.)

Dragons, Lies, and Dragonflies

dragonfly

They’re really hard to catch.

You’re at the big family picnic  when you hear a high pitched screeching coming from behind. It’s like some kind of wildly malfunctioning siren, or a giant deranged braying donkey. The noise is so shrill, so piercing, you can feel it in your chest. You wheel around expecting to find some kind of harpy or mythological beast of misery—you’re close.

“Look at my daughter.” Your Aunt Zelda screams at you as she points to a filthy and disheveled child.

“I’ve seen her before,” you tell Aunt Zelda, “but keep up the grooming regimen, it’s really paying off.”

“What I mean is: do you know how your Little Cousin Erina has come to be in this state?”

“I’m guessing the combination of bad genetics and decidedly questionable parenting.” You feel confident in your answer.

“Specifically, the condition of her face,” Aunt Zelda snaps.

“Her face? That’s all on you and her father and possibly a radon leak in your home.”

Aunt Zelda is now visibly agitated—you can tell because there is some color in her normally pasty complexion.

“The gunk around her mouth; I want you to tell me what that is,” she demands.

“The final reason the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania needs to begin proceedings toward the termination of parental rights?”

“You’re full of little jokes today aren’t you?”

“I’d like to think I carry my wit with me everyday,” you tell her.

“It’s dragonflies!” Aunt Zelda screams at you.

“You shouldn’t allow your child eat dragonflies,” you advise Aunt Zelda, “you’re giving the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania ammunition they don’t even need.”

“She ate the dragonflies because you told her to,” Aunt Zelda snaps at you, her face achieving a level of color previously thought not possible.

“I never told anyone to eat dragonflies,” you defend yourself.

“You told the children if they eat enough dragonflies they would turn into a dragons.”

“That was more of a cautionary tale than actual instructions.”

“Well she believed you and now she’s eaten five dragonflies.”

“She’s eaten five dragonflies?” you exclaim, genuinely impressed, “dragonflies are hard to catch.”

“In the future I would appreciate it if you would refrain from telling my daughter lies.”

“You don’t know it’s not true,” you defend yourself.

Your Cousin Bucky notices Little Cousin Erikka’s face as he’s passing by. “There’s chocolate all over your kid’s face, Aunt Zelda.”

“That’s not chocolate,” Aunt Zelda screams at Cousin Bucky, ” it’s dragonflies.”

Cousin Bucky stops in his tracks as he absorbs the information. “Are you sure it’s wise to let your child eat dragonflies, especially with the whole family court thing coming up?”

“I didn’t let her eat dragonflies, you moron.”

“Still, you should probably monitor her insect consumption,” Cousin Bucky says, “because the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania already has more than enough ammunition.”

“Really? Do they have enough ammunition? Do they really?” Aunt Zelda snaps at Cousin Bucky.

“Do you not know…because they have a lot of ammunition,” Cousin Bucky assures Aunt Zelda

“Daughter Erina ate the dragonflies because this moron told her she’d turn into a dragon if she ate enough dragonflies,” Aunt Zelda pokes a crooked finger at you.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Cousin Bucky tells Aunt Zelda.

“I have nothing to worry about?” Aunt Zelda questions.

“I doubt it’s the case eating dragonflies will actually turn her into a dragon,” Cousin Bucky says matter-of-factly.

“You don’t know it’s not true,” you admonish Cousin Bucky. “You’re not an expert on dragons or dragonflies?”

“I suppose I’m not,” Cousin Bucky agrees.

“Obviously eating dragonflies doesn’t turn you into a dragon,” Aunt Zelda says, “she ate five of them and she’s not a dragon.”

“She ate five?” Cousin Bucky says with surprise. “They’re really hard to catch.”

“They are hard to catch,” you agree. “But clearly, five dragonflies is not enough to trigger the Dragon transformation.”

“Should I eat more?” Little Cousin Erina asks.

“I guess that depends on how badly you want to be a dragon,” you advise.

“Yay, more dragonflies,” Little Cousin Erina cheers.

“You’re not eating anymore dragonflies,” Aunt Zelda scolds.

“I think you’re missing the key point in this entire situation,” you tell Aunt Zelda.

“And what would that be?”

“The fact that your daughter desperately wants to be a dragon.”

“I wouldn’t bring that up to the people from social services,” Cousin Bucky advises Aunt Zelda.

“Why do you want to be a dragon?” You ask Little Cousin Erina.

“Because dragons can breathe fire and burn alive any person they don’t like,” Little Cousin Erina tells you with glee.

“That was a bit chilling,” you say.

“I definitely would not bring that up to the people from social services,” Cousin Bucky tells Aunt Zelda.

“Really, Nephew Bucky,” Aunt Zelda snaps. “Are those your words of wisdom for me?”

“Do you really not know…because that sounded horrible.”

“Look, a dragonfly,” Little Cousin Erina squeals with delight as she runs off in the direction of the dragonfly.

Aunt Zelda stares in silent rage at you and Cousin Bucky before she turns to pursue her daughter.

“Look at that,” Cousin Bucky says in amazement, “she’s caught another one.”

“And now she’s eating it,” you reply.

“It’ll be good having a dragon in the family,” Cousin Bucky says.

You just nod in agreement.

dragon

Little Cousin Erina–post transformation.

Don’t Pee on the Electric Fence

Even the cows think you're an idiot.

Even the cows think you’re an idiot.

Never had greater words of wisdom passed over human lips: Don’t pee on the electric fence.

Well, maybe not great words of wisdom, but to a bunch of young boys about to go ramming through a cow pasture on their way to the woods, they seemed like great words of wisdom. After all, he was an old guy, and old guys know stuff.

Of course, to a group of young rapscallions, this was practically a dare to pee on the electric fence.

Note: As it turned out, far more useful words of wisdom would have been: don’t pee close enough to the electric fence that your friends can shove you into it. Don’t trust your friends: another solid piece of advice.

They may not be words that hold the eloquence of the Gettysburg Address or the weight of Churchill’s address to a joint session of Congress upon the United States entrance into the war, but if you had ever been shoved penis first into an electric fence, you would appreciate their significance.

He also told us not to eat any mushrooms growing on cow crap. He was evidently unconcerned with the  myriad of poisonous mushrooms growing everywhere else.

The point is: a few short words of wisdom can save a young man from a lot of misery. Words of wisdom such as:

  • Regardless of how far your super-soaker sprays, you’re still too close to the hornet’s nest.
  • You don’t want to discover the quantitative value for the phrase “mad as a hornet.”
  • It may seem sturdy, but an umbrella is not an adequate substitute for a parachute.
  • When jumping from the barn roof with an umbrella, the hay bales below are much less of a cushioning factor than one might think.
  • Despite the blood, “look what you did to my umbrella?” is the first thing an adult will think to say.
  • Even though most varieties of snakes are not venomous, you still don’t want them to bite you.
  • Convincing your cousin to let a snake bite him so that you find out whether or not it’s venomous, seems like a good idea, but it will really piss-off your aunt.
  • Never utter the phrase “sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never harm me,” to someone who is in possession of sticks or stones. In the jungle that is playground justice, you will be whacked over the head with a stick.
  • Do not ever, under any circumstance, tell a girl that her socks make her look like a rodeo clown.
  • That old children’s rhyme about girls being made of sugar and spice and everything nice–total crap.
  • Don’t melt play-doh on the stove. (What seems like a scientific experiment to you, is just wanton destruction to your mother.)
  • Ditto with crayons.
  • Don’t purposely try to set off the smoke alarm just to see how loud it is–it’s loud.
  • Thinking your mother won’t hear the smoke alarm because she’s in the shower, is a big wet screaming mistake.
  • And finally: don’t pee on the electric fence.

    Don't eat these mushrooms. Leave the cow crap alone too.

    Don’t eat these mushrooms. Leave the cow crap alone too.

Village Faces Lawsuit Following Unfortunate Tumble

falling down

Artist rendition of the incident.

North East, Pa.–The township of North East, Pennsylvania is facing a slip and fall lawsuit following an accident that occurred on township property. It seems a local resident known as Jack suffered a head injury after falling down a hill.

“The village does an absolutely dreadful job of maintaining the path on that hill,” his sister Jill said disgustedly. “We had simply gone up the hill to fetch a pail of water when Jack lost his footing on some loose gravel and tumbled down. I tried to grab him, but then I went tumbling after.”

“You have to be careful when you’re on a hill,” an unsympathetic town official stated. “Besides, that kid is a walking disaster; just last year Jack set himself on fire trying to jump over a candlestick. He thinks he’s nimble. He thinks he’s quick. But he is decidedly neither.”

“He did set himself on fire once,” Jill admitted, “I had to go up the hill by myself to fetch a pail of water just to put him out…what kind of idiot puts a well on a hill anyway?”

“I fell and broke my crown,” was Jack’s only response before adding, “I could see my own brains.”

body cast

Jack after his first attempt at skydiving.

Black Friday: You’re not Doing it Right

black friday

If you haven’t been bitten in the face, you’re not doing it right.

Black Friday: the day even genteel old ladies become MMA cage fighters.

Remember: if you have to commit a few misdemeanors and a stray felony or two in the act of acquiring Christmas gifts, it’s perfectly justifiable.

If you’re not engaging in activities that are at the very least, ethically and morally dubious, you’re heart just isn’t into it.

It’s called Black Friday for a reason. It’s not called Rosy Red Cheery Friday, you pansies.

If you’re not out there causing pain, you’re not doing right.

I have a few helpful tips for Black Friday:

  • The first item in your shopping cart should be a meat tenderizer–you need quick access to a weapon that you can later claim to the authorities, was just an item on your shopping list.
  • Beware of air flow before pepper-spraying a fellow shopper/combatant, you don’t want any of that stuff drifting into your own eyes–it really stings.
  • When grappling with an elderly person over an item, don’t hold back just because they appear to be having a heart attack, in my experience they are faking it at least 38% of the time.
  • Don’t be influenced just because a mother is with her child. That child is either a prop meant to endear sympathy, a diversion to distract you, or it’s an attack dog that she will sic on you the moment you get to close to an item she is after. (Little kids are vicious and they have really sharp teeth.)
  • Bite wounds from small children should be attended to immediately–you have no idea what kind of diseases those filthy little potato-faced brats have.
  • Finally, before wrapping a gift intended for a loved one, be sure to remove the price tag or any blood spatter that may be on the item. It’s just rude to give a gift with the price tag and or incriminating DNA still on it.

Remember: the important thing about the season is that you get what you want at the expense of your fellow man.

Final Note: make sure you keep the receipts; that gift you stabbed another human being in the face to get, will likely be returned.

weapon

And you’ve cleaned the blood from it, it makes a great gift.

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