Jesus stole my WII, so I shot him

The Holiday season has come upon us once again with its usual post Thanksgiving fanfare. The Friday newspaper was full of ads and there are tons of Holiday commercials running across the tube all day long. People toiled in the snow just to be the first to have a PS3 or an X-treme Elmo or whatever bullshit the toy companies are trying to hypnotize your kids with. Whatever happened to sticks and boxes? That’s what I used to play with.
I could imagine the reaction I would have gotten from one of my parents if I asked them to go sit in front of Lionel play world at 3am because they only had fourteen Boba Fetts in stock before Christmas. They would have laughed in my face. Why is it that these days parents are willing to do these stupid things for their fat, unenergetic, blob like children who are already over privileged beyond belief?

I like Christmas, don’t get me wrong, but things are starting to get a little out of hand. I see parents at Sam’s all the time with these demon seeds running around destroying shit. My mom would have only had to give me a certain look, and I would stop in my tracks. Speaking of tracks, she would wait until I got home to smack me with those goddamn Hot Wheels tracks. You see, my mom used psychological warfare against my brother and me. What better way to fuck with your head than to beat you with your own toys. Evil genius. So what’s the problem with parents today? You know I’m going to tell you.

These are a few problems and they are listed here for a reference.

1.Don’t name your kid after a borderline funny T.V. sitcom star. If I here one more mom yell out “Chandler!” or “Ross!”, I’m literally going to whip it out and take a piss on the floor right there. Don’t you realize they will be adults one day?

2.Don’t name your kid something cute just because when it comes out of you it looks like a baby bear. Cody and Dusty are names for horses, not people.

3.Don’t name your kid with a last name. It doesn’t make them smarter or make
them seem more interesting because you named them McKenzie or Carter. Nobody wants to order French fries from a zit faced teenager named Yates or Whitman. A last named child will be destined to be a vegan who lives in the Bywater and does not bathe. He will be a disappointment to you.

4.Stop buying your kid everything he asks for. It will be disappointing to him in the future when his first girlfriend refuses to give him a B.J. This is how you create date rapists who go to Tulane.

5.Stop telling them that they are perfect and are soooooooo goddamn smart. Its good to have positive reinforcement, but for Christ’s sake the kid is not the Messiah and he will make several huge mistakes in his life. Besides, if all of your children are soooooo smart, who’s making all the dumb people?

6.Be sure to give your kids plenty of vitamin D supplements because we all know going outside to play is like sending your child into the fucking swamp for a week. They hate outside because there is too much lazy inside shit to do. Get a refrigerator box and throw them in it. Tell them they can’t come back in until it looks like a submarine.

7. Remember, you love your kids, but we don’t. We don’t like when your kids throw our shit across the room and then laugh. We don’t like when you do not respond to said spastic event. We don’t like or care that much about your stupid kid, so shut up about it already.

8.Teach your kids to love Jesus and all of his teachings. You should bring him to Chick-Fil-A for a Christian Happy meal. Maybe send him to a fundamentalist school so they do all the brainwashing for you. I believe it will make our country stronger in the future. I love Jesus and hope he fixes the war in Iraq. Jesus loves war.

Now you have the basic makeup for creating a perfect childhood for your kid, as long as you keep them away from me and everyone else who has a life. Remember Jesus loves the little children so they can grow up to kill muslims.

Thank You and good night New Orleans! We love you! Rock out wit ya cock out and so forth and so on.

Peace out suckas

The End

10 Comments so far

  1. Hannah (unregistered) on November 28th, 2006 @ 5:48 pm


  2. Laurie (unregistered) on November 28th, 2006 @ 9:20 pm

    We are not Dutch!

    The North sea is a square.

    The Gulf of Mexico is an arc!

    The Gulf of Mexico does not get major wave action

    nor does it have big rocks stopping those waves

    before they hit shore!

    The Dutch Solution is a pretty federal money grab

    not tailored to the real problem.


  3. termite (unregistered) on November 28th, 2006 @ 9:32 pm

    hmm… rug-rats & the Dutch Solution…

    how do they correlate?? thinking..thinking..

    this is hurting my head, going to meet some friends for drinks, maybe they know the answer. (i doubt it)

    ya’ll have a good one – i’m outta here.. ;D

  4. Laurie (unregistered) on November 28th, 2006 @ 9:56 pm

    Night, Termite.


  5. MJ (unregistered) on November 28th, 2006 @ 10:21 pm

    “Get a refrigerator box and throw them in it. Tell them they can’t come back in until it looks like a submarine. “

    Welcome to my childhood! Say it with me.. “Kids these days…”

    ::shakes head::

    Well done!

  6. TM (unregistered) on November 29th, 2006 @ 1:47 pm

    Love #5 and #7….if I have to hear your kid is “gifted” one more time I’m gonna barf all over their little gold stars.

    #7 — nobody really thinks your kid is cute. We’re just being (sickenigly) pc.

  7. Paul p (unregistered) on November 29th, 2006 @ 1:47 pm

    I think some of these responses are the direct result of Tourettes syndrome. Now I hate kids and the Dutch.

  8. Ann (unregistered) on November 29th, 2006 @ 5:06 pm

    My mother locked us out. We had some fabulous adventures involving roofs, trees, and gravity. Oh and railroad trestle and a bayou. and a train.


  9. Minerva (unregistered) on December 3rd, 2006 @ 1:25 pm

    RE: “Jesus stole my WII,” Paul P you are my hero!

  10. Dana (unregistered) on December 3rd, 2006 @ 3:14 pm

    Don’t forget “hang out with my wang out!”
    (That’s for you to say, I don’t have a wang)

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