Archive for January, 2010

When Did My Kid Go All Hipster?

January 24, 2010

I didn’t do this.  I’ve been pushing Republican Lawyer Accountant because they have all the money and power.  Harmonica playing “hipsters” are poor and dirty and use foul language.  I know, believe me.

Granted she is good in algebra and geometry but she also plays the “electric” guitar and professes to want to play the drums.  THE DRUMS?!  Sigh my heavy heart.

All this means is I’ll be paying for her “flat” in Williamsburg (not-in-Virginia-Williamsburg) in 11 years while she runs around like Valhurey and Ari.  Sadly, her mother and I were going to retire to the city once she flew the coup.  Now she’s gonna be acting like she owns the shit.

Already got me buying art supplies…

We got dibs, kiddo.  Dibs!


Big Fat Pigs Have Absolutely No Context

January 20, 2010

My dad homie, Mark “the mad professor” in San Diego, sent me an emailing to tell me about a New York Times piece on kids and their incessant snacking.

I’ve been saying this shit for years (at least since parenthood). I tell my kids that a snack in my house (as a kid) consisted of rolling up one piece of white bread (generic “Lady Lee” brand) with a banana pepper in the middle. Or, if I was really lucky, some crackers—Sunshine brand, you know, the makers of the knock-off Oreo known as “Hydrox”—with Nucoa Margarine, that shitty Trans Fat laden tub of yellow muck. That was fuckin’ snack in the lower middle class. My kids get 3 snacks a day–1 in school, 1 in after school care, and then they have the audacity to ask for a snack when they get home. Of course, I oblige.

He’s right here, you know.  Snacking.  No lie, it’s all the little fuckers do.   And they act all entitled about it too.  Visiting kids (don’t get me going on the term “play date”) all creepin’ up on me asking, “do you have any snacks?”  And if they get the wrong shit like bowl of grapes flown in from Chile, they’re all snooty and belligerent.  Nigga what?!

Sign up for some school “volunteering” and you’ll see that it mostly consists of bringing some kind of snack.  I made the rookie mistake of bringing oatmeal raisin cookies one time.  Gingerbread house making activity?  Fuckers eat frosting straight from the can.  Halloween and Valentine’s day was invented by candy moguls, shit!

Three words: Girl Scout cookies.

And we wonder why they are all sedentary, unhealthy, fat as hell, ADD, and suck at sports.  All they do is fucking eat.  Eat, eat, eat.  Gogurt.  String cheese.  “Fruit” snacks.  Muffins.  Cheez-Its.  Cereal up the ass.  They act like candy is one of the fucking food groups.  You ever see the little bastards loot a goddamn Starbucks?  The apple fritter has a fat content estimated to be around 80g.  Hey, hey, hey…It’s fat Adin.  Why does Johnny have diabetes?  Because people can’t cut up a damn apple and tell the little shitheads (in their legal custody) to eat it or shut up.  Maybe that’s the jigsaw piece missing from the autism puzzle: High Fructose Corn Syrup.

My kid asked me, “Why is everybody in Africa so skinny?”  Because they don’t graze on sugar all day.  What recession?

I didn’t even read the Times piece.  What?  I’m going to learn something about the shit I see with my own eyes every day?  And it’s not the kids’ fault at all.  It’s the intellectually lazy, emotionally squishy parents who somehow operate on the “I want my kids to have everything I didn’t” paradigm.  Nigga, what?!  How about give them some discipline.  You apparently didn’t have any of that.  I think I may have had a “snack” maybe once a week.  On Saturdays.  After playing for four hours outside and eating lunch.  Then I went back out for the second shift burning calories like Wall Street executives are burning my taxes on hookers and cigars.

Kids don’t have a context.  Humans are born dependent as Haiti.  Their locus of control is highly external; what parents allow and what friends do is what children learn.  So it’s up to us to learn them little parasites a thing or three.  Next time they ask for a(nother) goddamn snack, tell them to get the fuck outta the kitchen and get back on that damn Wii you bought them.  You’re so close to beating daddy’s high score.


January 18, 2010

These are the 5 stages of Yo Gabba Gabba. 1- I hate Toodee and I love Muno. 2- Wait, Toodee is a “cat dragon” who lives in icicle land? 3- Muno fucked everything up AGAIN. Poor Plex. I would lose it if I had to deal with this moron every day. 4- He’s kind of a rip off of Kure Kure Takora. 5- Toodee’s cool. I hate Muno.

PS: Who is the guy in the snowsuit?

Dolphins & Whales, Hurray!

January 11, 2010

So the kiddo brought home a reading assignment for her “advanced literature” section.  She’s in second grade, right?  I didn’t even have “advanced literature” until high school.  Periodically the kids bring home particular books to read to us “with expression” and to point out “text features” and learn words like “rorquals” and “cetacean” and “hydrophone” and such.  Meh, I got this.

Today’s book was titled, “Whales.”  Shiiiit, negro.  Cute whales and dolphins and such.  I can do this standing on my head.  Look at the pretty little whale swimming around the ocean; smiling.  Isn’t that cute?  Ohhhh, dolphins.  They do tricks!

Naw, son.  This book was the shit.  Had it been about pilgrims or Columbus, I’d be all explaining (and lying) about Smallpox Blankets.  I’m just glad it wasn’t about slavery else I’d be talking about Negro Dialect and whippings and lynching and rape.  I’d have to explain how MLK got aced by an angry white man because he was black.  Oy vey!

Swimming and breathing and body features was cake.  Baleen?  Easy.  Echo-location?  Yawn.  But then came the later chapters…Reproduction, Migration, Hunting, and Protection.  Thanks a lot second grade curriculum jerks.

Today’s Ace Daddy Homies Homework Q&A by Ty Hardaway

Q: [Reproduction chapter] What’s that red stuff?

A: It’s blood.

Q: Why is there blood?

A: Well, when a baby mammal is born, there are a number of fluids involved.  The bubble the baby lives in the mom’s abdomen is called the amniotic sac.  When the baby is born this pops like and lots of fluids, including a little bit of blood, comes out.

Q: What do you mean “pop” like a balloon?

A: Not “pops” but…opens.  OK?

Q: How much blood?

A: I don’t know, I’ve never seen a whale give birth; a little.

Q: How much blood was there when I was born?

A: Very little.

Q: Who was bleeding?  Mommy or me?

A: Uhhh.  Just some blood was…in the process like I said.  There was…this is about whales!


Q: [Nursing chapter] Where does the calf get the milk?

A: All mammals provide milk from breasts.

Q: Like mom’s boobs?

A: Yes, exactly.

Q: How does a whale drink milk under water?

A: Says here that it can’t suckle so it nuzzles for milk.

Q: Suckles?

A: Yes.  To suck.  Mammals–land mammals anyway–suck milk.

Q: Sucks from boobs?

A: Yes. Kind of like that.

Q: Why can’t the whale suckle?

A: Whales have no lips.

Q: So how do the babies get the milk?

A: The babies “nuzzle”–or rub the mom–and the mom squirts it to them.

Q: Cool!  Can mom squirt milk like that?!

A: Uh, no.  Not really.  I mean, should could squirt it a little bit, but not to feed you.

Q: What do you mean?

A: —–

Q: Can we call her at work?

A: —–


Q: [Hunting chapter] What does “whaling” mean?

A: It means to hunt whales.


A: Yes, whales are very useful for food and industry.

Q: But whales are smart, right?

A: Yes, but some people need to eat whale meat, like we eat chickens and cows.

Q: What’s fuel oil?

A: Well, people used to use the blubber to burn lamps.

Q: What?  They burn the whales?

A: Well, kind of–

Q: What are cosmetics?

A: Like make-up and lipstick and stuff.

Q: Made from dead whales?

A: Uh, yeah.  Like I said, some products–It’s like elephants and…never mind.

Q: What about elephants?

A: Nothing.

Q: Pet food?

A: It says that there?

Q: How do they catch the whales?

A: In boats.

Q: How do they get them?

A: What does the book say?

Q: It doesn’t.

A: They catch them in…BIG NETS!  And put them in tanks!


Q: [Protection chapter] What does “extinction” mean?

A: All gone, like dinosaurs.

Q: What happen to the dinosaurs.

A: Long story.  I’ll tell you after we talk about whales.

Q: Are people killing all the whales?

A: Lots of them.

Q: What does “slaughter” mean?

A: To kill a lot.

Q: So we slaughter to extinction?

A: Yes, unfortunately, in some cases.

Q: What else do humans slaughter?

A: —–


I totally suck.  But at least the book saves the day.  Here’s how it ends:

“These days, we do not need whale oil; we use other oils.  We do not need whalebone; we use plastics.  And whale meat is eaten in very few countries.  So we do not need to continue to kill whales.  Whales should be protected by all countries so that no species becomes extinct.”

Thank god for petroleum!  And all those whaling treaties, right Japan?


January 4, 2010

Who is going to go to this? Kids aren’t allowed to go to a movie where the protagonist says cunt and blows people’s heads off. Red-blooded American males don’t enjoy watching a kick-ass tween kick ass. Women hate action movies. Who does this leave? I guess… perverts.