Pending Children

Lately my friends and I have been running into men who are not owning up to all of their spawn.  We'll ask the fair question of how many kids they have, they'll tell us one or none, only to find out months later that they either just had a baby, or just found out about the existence of one.

To alleviate this unfortunate miscommunication, we now ask men how many children they have, and how many pending children they have.  Bitch, how many women are pregnant with a possible child of yours at this very moment?  How many DNA test results are you currently waiting on?  These are important questions because a lot of men seem to think that just because the kid isn't here yet or hasn't been confirmed, they don't technically count.  Well, yes bitch, they do.  And I need to know about all of them so I can make an informed decision.

The Look

If you follow the blog, you know I have an overall disdain for interactions with the general public.  It stresses me out.  I really think it has something to do with the fact that there are now too many people on the planet.  It's bound to get stressful.

Anyway, I'm in the grocery store today, and I found myself having to administer 'The Look' twice.  The Look is an effective tool used to communicate your complete and total disgust, with a person.  You must remain still while giving The Look, or else it's just a glance.  Your face must be devoid of emotion.  The Look is purposeful...and powerful.  

First, I gave The Look to this 10 year old girl who was coughing and heaving near the meat department.  You know the kind of cough that throws you into a wretch?  That's what this little heifer was doing.  I stood there and gave her The Look, as I was thoroughly disgusted at this point.  Wanna know what happened?  She covered her mouth!  That Look is something else, let me tell ya.  It shames people on site and causes them to correct their behavior.  

The second administration of The Look came while I was checking out.  This toddler was screaming his head off in the basket in front of me.  His momma just ignored it as I'm sure she has grown accustomed to this noise pollution.  So while she's putting her groceries on the belt, he's wailing, and starts looking all around her, looking for backup and reassurance.  He looked at me, and I gave him The Look which read, "You look so ridiculous right now.  No one is impressed.  Shut it The Fuck up."  Wanna know what happened?  He looked down, put his fingers in his mouth, took a breath, and ceased with the bullshit.  

I suggest developing and practicing a 'Look' of your own.  Trust me, you will need it, especially while driving.  

Papoose Boards

Tonight I watched a story on Inside Edition that exposed a dentist for the use of Papoose Boards.  These boards are basically full-body child restraint systems that prevent them from flailing all about when the dentist is, I dunno, trying to drill your teeth?  Anyway, the parents, who all signed waivers, were outraged because their children are now traumatized from the experience.

You've really got to see one in action to fully appreciate this tool.  They may never admit it, but I know there are some parents out there who watched that story and thought to themselves, "Where can I get one of those?"

Some children are so damn bad they need to be papoosed.  It is the ultimate timeout.  It is non-violent, it prevents the child from harming themselves and others, and it prevents the destruction of property.  It could be used in classrooms worldwide to control unruly students.  If they won't sit still or keep their hands to themselves, papoose them and lean them up against the wall.  They can wriggle all they want to, but still they shall be.  And when you are completely restrained like that, all you can think of are your life's choices, and how they led you to this point.

I'm just saying, we could be on the leading edge of a non-violent discipline movement.  Check out the video and judge for yourself:  Papoose Boards

They Don't Care About You

I honestly cannot wait to become a mother.  In due time of course, but I'm really looking forward to the process.  Especially the part when they begin to comprehend and retain what I am saying to them.

I am going to teach them all kinds of life lessons, including a very important one about being a pedestrian.  The lesson is:  Sweetheart, these people don't care about you.  And even if they do care about you, they don't see you.  


Half of the people on the road really do not give a fuck about you.  This is a true statement.  Their sentiment is, "Get your ass out of the road and you won't get hit."  The other half actually do value your life more than you do, but THEY DO NOT SEE YOU.  Either your clothes are too dark or they're texting or you're in their blind spot, or they just passed out, or whatever.  At any rate, you as the pedestrian have the greatest duty to protect your life, so take those earbuds out of your ears and be on the lookout for stupid.

Snatching Kids

Taking other people's kids is a behavior that I will never fully wrap my mind around.  Why in sam hell would I want to kidnap someone else's wretched little monster?  That would require me feeding it, clothing it, entertaining it, educating it, and listening to it cry.  The precious, precious freedom I enjoy now would be no more.  Who goes out of their way to make sure their life is encumbered?  Is it really that serious?  I'll just wait until it's my turn, thank you.

No Whores In The House

As I've stated before, I don't have kids of my own yet, but I have already planned ahead for them.

When my son reaches a certain age, one rule shall be repeated, over and over again, until he gets it, and that rule is:  No Whores In The House.  


Now this rule isn't much different from any other parent's rules, but my reasoning is.  Of course I don't want him having sex in my house, and of course I don't want them in there drinking and drugging.  These are givens.

The main reason I don't want those whores in my house is because I don't want them going through my jewelry. 


By the time I have kids, I intend on being very well off, and as a result of that well-off-ed-ness, I plan on having a moderate collection of fine jewelry.  The last thing I need is those low-classed whores looking at it, touching it, putting it on, stealing it, and/or leaving their dirty little fingerprints all over my Sterling.

Nothing would enrage me more, and this is why this rule will be #1 in my household.