Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Do as I say, not as I do
As I twittered back and forth with Morticia this morning she said something that I thought was interesting. "That falls under the heading 'things I won't do to my own kids'. There is a whole chapter." That got me thinking, and it's always dangerous when I think.
So I got to thinking about my own parents and the fucked up things they did, the things they didn't do, and how I rate when compared to them.
Now I'll be the first to admit I may not be the best father in the world, but none of my kids ever stuck the leg of a Barbi doll up their nose far enough to make them shit the carpet and forget their ABC's. My kids aren't perfect, and just admitting that puts me head and shoulders above a lot of other sperm donors and cum dumpsters who claim to be parents.
And I was all set to write about how much my parents sucked and how awesome I am, but then I got into a conversation with a friend of mine, and he got me all riled up. I can't get some of the shit we talked about out of my head now, so you get to read the shit as I vomit it all over my computer. Lucky you.
I won't go into specifics and name names, not cause I'm scared but because I don't want to make a bad situation worse. So no names.
OK, here is the story; On a New Jersey Pop Warner football team there are things called E-boards. This is made of pathetic sacks of humanity who have no control over their lives, children, or eating habits. People who answer with down-turned eyes and timmid voices when their children scream at them and call them stupid. You know the type; I may be five hundred pounds but when I was a kid I was a beauty queen, and my daughter is going to be one too. She so pretty, look at how much gooder she dances than them skinny girls. She may only be four but she is already a C-cup.
These are small people with small jobs and even smaller minds. They honestly believe their possition of authority as President/vice presidnet/treasurer of a pop Warner team is an honest to god calling, and their authority is akin to that of the Mayor or Governor.
So on this certain New Jersey Pop Wanrer football team (which all three of my kids play for) the treasurer stole $17,000 over the course of a couple years. Gasp. Someone would abuse such a possition of Authority? What about the oath thy surely took? What about the children? Won't someone please think of the children?
No, they won't. Because to these self aggrandized douche bags the kids don't matter, only their position does.
So now the powers that be (haha, powers) are clinging to control of the organization and fighting everyone off so they can keep their position. No one wants to admit the fuck up, no one is admitting knowing about the theft and no one will man up and say that the important thing here is the organization and the good it does for the kids. They would rather remain captain of a sinking ship than grab a bucket and help bail so someone else can put on the captains hat and steer it clear of the rocks.
I am leary of anyone who tries that hard to be in charge of children. Catholic priests spring to mind, (and fill it with fond memories of my childhood; Oh Father O'Malley how I miss your tickley beard stubble and thick trembling fingers) and the countless other officials who abuse kids. This is no different; it's abusing children for your own self aggrandizement.
I'm sorry, but your not a fucking head of state, your a JANITOR.
Believe me, I have nothing against janitors. My grandfather supported his family for fifty years working as a janitor, and I have done my fair share of janitorial work over the years. I have a problem with people who think they are important because they won a minority vote and know how to play the system.
I'm sorry, but I hate people who walk around like they are something special when they are just fucking VOLUNTEERS. They didn't have to apply for the position, they didn't need any special skills, they don't even need any training. So what makes them special?
Special like "I ride the short bus and lick windows" special, or maybe "when I stick enough crayons in my nose I can remember grandma" special? They are special like that.
Special like "I actually do something for the community" and "I help kids because I want to give back to the community and make the lives of kids better" - not so much.
So I got to thinking about my own parents and the fucked up things they did, the things they didn't do, and how I rate when compared to them.
Now I'll be the first to admit I may not be the best father in the world, but none of my kids ever stuck the leg of a Barbi doll up their nose far enough to make them shit the carpet and forget their ABC's. My kids aren't perfect, and just admitting that puts me head and shoulders above a lot of other sperm donors and cum dumpsters who claim to be parents.
And I was all set to write about how much my parents sucked and how awesome I am, but then I got into a conversation with a friend of mine, and he got me all riled up. I can't get some of the shit we talked about out of my head now, so you get to read the shit as I vomit it all over my computer. Lucky you.
I won't go into specifics and name names, not cause I'm scared but because I don't want to make a bad situation worse. So no names.
OK, here is the story; On a New Jersey Pop Warner football team there are things called E-boards. This is made of pathetic sacks of humanity who have no control over their lives, children, or eating habits. People who answer with down-turned eyes and timmid voices when their children scream at them and call them stupid. You know the type; I may be five hundred pounds but when I was a kid I was a beauty queen, and my daughter is going to be one too. She so pretty, look at how much gooder she dances than them skinny girls. She may only be four but she is already a C-cup.
These are small people with small jobs and even smaller minds. They honestly believe their possition of authority as President/vice presidnet/treasurer of a pop Warner team is an honest to god calling, and their authority is akin to that of the Mayor or Governor.
So on this certain New Jersey Pop Wanrer football team (which all three of my kids play for) the treasurer stole $17,000 over the course of a couple years. Gasp. Someone would abuse such a possition of Authority? What about the oath thy surely took? What about the children? Won't someone please think of the children?
No, they won't. Because to these self aggrandized douche bags the kids don't matter, only their position does.
So now the powers that be (haha, powers) are clinging to control of the organization and fighting everyone off so they can keep their position. No one wants to admit the fuck up, no one is admitting knowing about the theft and no one will man up and say that the important thing here is the organization and the good it does for the kids. They would rather remain captain of a sinking ship than grab a bucket and help bail so someone else can put on the captains hat and steer it clear of the rocks.
I am leary of anyone who tries that hard to be in charge of children. Catholic priests spring to mind, (and fill it with fond memories of my childhood; Oh Father O'Malley how I miss your tickley beard stubble and thick trembling fingers) and the countless other officials who abuse kids. This is no different; it's abusing children for your own self aggrandizement.
I'm sorry, but your not a fucking head of state, your a JANITOR.
Believe me, I have nothing against janitors. My grandfather supported his family for fifty years working as a janitor, and I have done my fair share of janitorial work over the years. I have a problem with people who think they are important because they won a minority vote and know how to play the system.
I'm sorry, but I hate people who walk around like they are something special when they are just fucking VOLUNTEERS. They didn't have to apply for the position, they didn't need any special skills, they don't even need any training. So what makes them special?
Special like "I ride the short bus and lick windows" special, or maybe "when I stick enough crayons in my nose I can remember grandma" special? They are special like that.
Special like "I actually do something for the community" and "I help kids because I want to give back to the community and make the lives of kids better" - not so much.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Not everyone gets a fucking trophy
They don't call me Horrorwritingdaddy for nothing.
Yes, I do write horror novels and short stories
Yes, I am a daddy. I have three boys ages 13, 11, and 6. That's 30 years of experience in child rearing. And don't get all pissed off, I don't mean I rear my children. I wouldn't mind it if my wife would let me rear her every once in awhile, not that I really dig anal sex (but of course I do) it would just be nice if I could be a pain in her ass for awhile, you know what I mean?
Anyway, I have kids. I've had kids longer than all of my friends with the exception of my buddy Billy, but he's a FORD RACING fan, so he don't count. And he only has me beaten by one year and one kid, so it's pretty close.
Now that I am getting closer to the age where respectable people have children I find many of my other friends having kids. There is an interesting transition going on because of this: I was always the fuck-up. I had too many jobs, I had kids too young, I got involved with my wife when we were too young, I bought my house when I was too young. Blah blah fuckity blah. Chris is stupid, I get it.
But now all the things that I did wrong, too young, too early, too stupid or whatever are the things my friends are doing now. They are getting married (been there for twelve years) having kids (been there for thirteen years) and buying houses (been there for eight years). So who do they call for help continuously?
Someone they look up to and respect, of course. But that person usually isn't home because he is out doing something respectable, like working. When he doesn't answer they call me. And I answer, cause I have nothing better to do.
How do you un-clog a drain?
How do you hang a door? (paint it black, get some rope... errr...never mind)
How do you wire a socket? An outlet? A ceiling fan?
What happens when my kid throws up?
What kind of medicine do I give my eighty pound two year old with a 98.9 fever? - I don't know, Dexatrim? Your kids fat, try worrying about that instead of their notreallyafever-fever.
Should I let them watch Sesame street? There was some chick on who had boobs once and I don't know if that kind of imagery is right for my eleven year old. He's sensitive.
HOLY SHIT little baby got a splinter, what do I do? - I don't know, fucking PULL IT OUT. Never mind, that's what you should have done in the first place because your too fucking stupid to have kids!
Should I call the doctor now? How 'bout now? Now? NOW?
The same people who whispered about me being a fuck up now call me nightly for advice on their kids and help fixing their houses, cars, careers, relationships, and scared emotional psyches. They cry on my fucking shoulder (news flash - I DON'T GIVE A FUCK) and tell me all about their dysfunctional families.
A little advice for new parents - These tips should help you out, they are the most common ailments, problems, and questions new parents face.
Just because little Timmy skinned his knee doesn't mean he needs a doctor. You got him so wrapped up in helmets, knee pads, elbow pads, mouth guards and bubble wrap he can't get hurt falling off his ten inch bike at the tremor-inducing speed of ONE. He isn't hurt. He probably needs some water though, all that bubble tape is blocking his pores and suffocating him.
Small fevers are OK, just not in REALLY young infants. Kids get sick, it happens If the fever persists for more than a day dunk them in icy water, submerging their head for at least five minutes. This kills the infection.
If I need to tell you that I am joking about that you REALLY need to commit suicide you stupid fuck.
Seriously, after the kids first fever you will know what your doctor recommends. Anything under 100 isn't really a fever.
Let your kids out of the house every once in awhile. No one likes fat pasty kids. They're kind of like plants; they need air and sunshine. Get jiggly thighs outside and teach him to ride a bike Which means you need to get off the couch you shitty example of humanity.
Don't be the over protective douche. Let junior get bullied, but talk to him and teach him how to defend himself. Let him know that fighting isn't the right thing to do, its the awesome thing to do. Seriously, look how famous Chuck Norris is, and he's 71 for fucks sake.
Teach your kids self confidence by allowing them to do things, correcting them when they are wrong and explaining things to them. Talk to them like adults and challenge them. Let them make mistakes and explain to them that NOT EVERYONE GETS A TROPHY.
Not everyone gets a trophy. If you suck you don't deserve one. If your team sucks it doesn't deserve one. Trophies mean a lot LESS when everyone gets one. If I am a natural athlete, which I am not, and a sport comes easily to me and I play and try real hard, then I deserve a trophy. Life isn't fair, and sometimes the kids with better genetics get the prize. Tough shit.
If I am a kid who tries really hard, works out and practices every single day, practices at home at my spare time and seeks out the help of the better kids to challenge me, which I am, then I deserve a trophy. I tried, I made myself better, and I helped my team.
If I am the fat kid who hangs out as far away from the team as possible and tries to skip out on the drills and gets mad when people say I suck and never tries to get better, and I haven't been that kid since second grade, but if I was then I wouldn't deserve the trophy. And guess what? When I was that kid I didn't get the trophy because I SUCKED.
And if you are the parent, and I certainly am not this douche, but if you are the parent who gives the coach shit because your kid doesn't play even though he sucks and skips practice and doesn't listen and avoids all the drills and workouts, then you should also commit suicide, something slow and painful like hanging yourself from your genitals with packaging twine while a pack of sewer rats eats through your peanut butter smeared ass hole.
Kids need to be challenged and encouraged. They need to know that they are not perfect but will always be loved. They need to be told to do better, and to have their questions answered when they ask why. They need to be hugged when they don't get the trophy, and then they need a valid explanation as to why they didn't get the trophy. Then someone with skill and experience needs to help them so they can get better and EARN the trophy next year. They can't quit, they have to push through when things get hard.
Don't be the complainer. Don't bitch about the teachers and coaches and other kids just because everyone says there is a problem with your kid. Guess what? If EVERYONE thinks there is a problem with your kid, there probably isn't. The problem is you ass-hole, not being a proper parent and spoiling the little shit. Smack them every once in awhile when they do something wrong. They need to know there are consequences to their actions.
Oh, and this is a novel idea: talk to your kids. Really. Do that every night, find out shit about them, teach them shit about you.
And teach them that NOT EVERYONE GETS A FUCKING TROPHY. If we all did then trophies wouldn't mean shit. No one would try and we would all start to get weak and fat and lazy.
Oh shit, wait. That's already happened.
Yes, I do write horror novels and short stories
Yes, I am a daddy. I have three boys ages 13, 11, and 6. That's 30 years of experience in child rearing. And don't get all pissed off, I don't mean I rear my children. I wouldn't mind it if my wife would let me rear her every once in awhile, not that I really dig anal sex (but of course I do) it would just be nice if I could be a pain in her ass for awhile, you know what I mean?
Anyway, I have kids. I've had kids longer than all of my friends with the exception of my buddy Billy, but he's a FORD RACING fan, so he don't count. And he only has me beaten by one year and one kid, so it's pretty close.
Now that I am getting closer to the age where respectable people have children I find many of my other friends having kids. There is an interesting transition going on because of this: I was always the fuck-up. I had too many jobs, I had kids too young, I got involved with my wife when we were too young, I bought my house when I was too young. Blah blah fuckity blah. Chris is stupid, I get it.
But now all the things that I did wrong, too young, too early, too stupid or whatever are the things my friends are doing now. They are getting married (been there for twelve years) having kids (been there for thirteen years) and buying houses (been there for eight years). So who do they call for help continuously?
Someone they look up to and respect, of course. But that person usually isn't home because he is out doing something respectable, like working. When he doesn't answer they call me. And I answer, cause I have nothing better to do.
How do you un-clog a drain?
How do you hang a door? (paint it black, get some rope... errr...never mind)
How do you wire a socket? An outlet? A ceiling fan?
What happens when my kid throws up?
What kind of medicine do I give my eighty pound two year old with a 98.9 fever? - I don't know, Dexatrim? Your kids fat, try worrying about that instead of their notreallyafever-fever.
Should I let them watch Sesame street? There was some chick on who had boobs once and I don't know if that kind of imagery is right for my eleven year old. He's sensitive.
HOLY SHIT little baby got a splinter, what do I do? - I don't know, fucking PULL IT OUT. Never mind, that's what you should have done in the first place because your too fucking stupid to have kids!
Should I call the doctor now? How 'bout now? Now? NOW?
The same people who whispered about me being a fuck up now call me nightly for advice on their kids and help fixing their houses, cars, careers, relationships, and scared emotional psyches. They cry on my fucking shoulder (news flash - I DON'T GIVE A FUCK) and tell me all about their dysfunctional families.
A little advice for new parents - These tips should help you out, they are the most common ailments, problems, and questions new parents face.
Just because little Timmy skinned his knee doesn't mean he needs a doctor. You got him so wrapped up in helmets, knee pads, elbow pads, mouth guards and bubble wrap he can't get hurt falling off his ten inch bike at the tremor-inducing speed of ONE. He isn't hurt. He probably needs some water though, all that bubble tape is blocking his pores and suffocating him.
Small fevers are OK, just not in REALLY young infants. Kids get sick, it happens If the fever persists for more than a day dunk them in icy water, submerging their head for at least five minutes. This kills the infection.
If I need to tell you that I am joking about that you REALLY need to commit suicide you stupid fuck.
Seriously, after the kids first fever you will know what your doctor recommends. Anything under 100 isn't really a fever.
Let your kids out of the house every once in awhile. No one likes fat pasty kids. They're kind of like plants; they need air and sunshine. Get jiggly thighs outside and teach him to ride a bike Which means you need to get off the couch you shitty example of humanity.
Don't be the over protective douche. Let junior get bullied, but talk to him and teach him how to defend himself. Let him know that fighting isn't the right thing to do, its the awesome thing to do. Seriously, look how famous Chuck Norris is, and he's 71 for fucks sake.
Teach your kids self confidence by allowing them to do things, correcting them when they are wrong and explaining things to them. Talk to them like adults and challenge them. Let them make mistakes and explain to them that NOT EVERYONE GETS A TROPHY.
Not everyone gets a trophy. If you suck you don't deserve one. If your team sucks it doesn't deserve one. Trophies mean a lot LESS when everyone gets one. If I am a natural athlete, which I am not, and a sport comes easily to me and I play and try real hard, then I deserve a trophy. Life isn't fair, and sometimes the kids with better genetics get the prize. Tough shit.
If I am a kid who tries really hard, works out and practices every single day, practices at home at my spare time and seeks out the help of the better kids to challenge me, which I am, then I deserve a trophy. I tried, I made myself better, and I helped my team.
If I am the fat kid who hangs out as far away from the team as possible and tries to skip out on the drills and gets mad when people say I suck and never tries to get better, and I haven't been that kid since second grade, but if I was then I wouldn't deserve the trophy. And guess what? When I was that kid I didn't get the trophy because I SUCKED.
And if you are the parent, and I certainly am not this douche, but if you are the parent who gives the coach shit because your kid doesn't play even though he sucks and skips practice and doesn't listen and avoids all the drills and workouts, then you should also commit suicide, something slow and painful like hanging yourself from your genitals with packaging twine while a pack of sewer rats eats through your peanut butter smeared ass hole.
Kids need to be challenged and encouraged. They need to know that they are not perfect but will always be loved. They need to be told to do better, and to have their questions answered when they ask why. They need to be hugged when they don't get the trophy, and then they need a valid explanation as to why they didn't get the trophy. Then someone with skill and experience needs to help them so they can get better and EARN the trophy next year. They can't quit, they have to push through when things get hard.
Don't be the complainer. Don't bitch about the teachers and coaches and other kids just because everyone says there is a problem with your kid. Guess what? If EVERYONE thinks there is a problem with your kid, there probably isn't. The problem is you ass-hole, not being a proper parent and spoiling the little shit. Smack them every once in awhile when they do something wrong. They need to know there are consequences to their actions.
Oh, and this is a novel idea: talk to your kids. Really. Do that every night, find out shit about them, teach them shit about you.
And teach them that NOT EVERYONE GETS A FUCKING TROPHY. If we all did then trophies wouldn't mean shit. No one would try and we would all start to get weak and fat and lazy.
Oh shit, wait. That's already happened.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Tattoo's and porkrinds
As many of you know horrorwritingdaddy is a writer. I sit at my computer all morning tapping out horrible things, scaring myself, turning myself on, and banging my head into the desk asking the gods to make me write gooder Thats what writers do, right? I find it funny that because of my appearance (tattoo's, long beard, occasional shaved head) most people don't believe I write. Hell, most people don't believe I can even read, though I tend to tear through a good book in days. I surprise people with my knowledge of books and my vocabulary, often hearing things like "You read?"
Yes Fucktard, I read. I also write I also draw and tattoo.
No one ever doubts that I tattoo. I guess I look the part.
A recent conversation got me thinking about this, which is why I am blogging about it today:
I went to my friend's house last night to tattoo him. He was having a penis permanently etched onto his skin, something I tried to explain was a bad idea, but what you gonna do? The guy loves the cock. Anyway, one of his "friends" came over and I was introduced as the friend slash tattoo artist We shook hands. Everything was accepted and understood. Angry face, many visible tattoo's and scars, overly long beard. Tattoo artist.
After I set up I began to actually stab ink into his skin and the conversations flowed. We talked about the new fire pit my friend had gotten for his fiftieth birthday, the local gossip, and classic cars. I contributed to each conversation until they began to wax philisophical about some show on MTV (remember when they used to play video? If you do, you're old) about a bunch of drunken idiots down in Seaside. Upon explaining I had never seen the show they couldn't believe it. They just couldn't believe me, of many tattoos and the long beard did not watch stupid reality shows
Then we started talking about movies. The friend of my friend mentioned recently watching "The Road". He said it was dark and disturbing and fucked up.
"If you think the movie is fucked up," I said while finishing the wrinkly foreskin on my friends penis tattoo, "you should read the book. McCarthy paints a very grey and desolate picture."
They both looked at me like I was the one with the penis tattoo on his chest.
"You read?"
"Yes I read" I replied, knowing how this conversation would go.
"Books?" It's amazing how smart some people are. Who says abortion is a bad thing?
"No, warning labels on soup cans. Yes Books."
"You don't look like someone who reads."
"Sorry, I left my glasses and pocket protector at home. I'll bring them next time." I went back to the tattoo, adding curly hairs to the dangling testicles that rested just above my friends nipple ring.
"Wait, they have warning labels on soup?"
This blatent stupidity got me thinking anout stereotypes. I went home intent on thinking up something witty and intelectual today, especially after the whole "Boycott Dorchester" post yesterday, but I made the mistake of putting on the news.
It seems somewhere ( I forget where exactly ) there is a Muslim teacher who is suing the city she works for because they won't allow her to take 19 school days off so she can go to Mecca. I'm even capitalizing things like Islam and Mecca to seem open minded, even though I am not.
Anyway, this women has a case filed with the DOJ - the Department of Justice, because she says she is being discriminated agaisnt Sorry, you want how many days off? 19 school days, which is 27 consecutive days off. You want that with pay too right? Of course you do.
The school district said they couldn't spare her for that amount of time. They would have to get a substitute teacher in to replace her, which costs the school more money, and then there is the little matter of the children throwing spitballs at the sub for four weeks while this cooky bitch is out walking through the dessert on her way to a giant phallus. Hurry, I need to throw down my little rug and kneel over these recently exploded corpses while a war rages around me so I can get closer to Allah. Whoops, charlie just ran into a bus and blew himself up. Silly Charlie. Fuck, he was my ride.
I can promise you, all humor aside, that I do not hate Muslims. I think everyone should be able to follow their own religion. If that religion makes you a better person than I don't care if you worship a head of lettuce And I am not one of those idiots who thinks all Muslims are terrorists. I know they are not. I know the true Muslims are peaceful and they hate the assosciations way more than we ever could I get that.
But in no way should a bullshit lawsuit like this be allowed to muddy up the courts. You want too much time off. You can't have the time. Tough shit. There is a funny thing about schools, at least some of them; they like to teach their students things. When you pull a teacher out of school for a month it disrupts this learning. When you have to hire a substitute teacher to cover your ass for a month it costs the school money. Money that could be spent on more metal detectors and nutricious lunches. You are throwing a monkey wrench into a system that is already fucked up and nearly broken, so stop rocking the fucking boat and do your job.
So now pause and think. The first thing that should come to your mind is what the fuck does that have to do with penis tattoos, if I can, infact read, and most of all porkrinds?
Nothing. Everything. It's about perception of the world around us, who we really are and what people think about us, and how their perception affects our reality. I still read, I still write, and I will continue to grow my beard, damnit. People will continue to act like self intitled douche bags and cry religious infringment even when they ask for something they know they aren't entitled to, and porkrinds will stay crispy in milk even though we don't think they should.
Yes Fucktard, I read. I also write I also draw and tattoo.
No one ever doubts that I tattoo. I guess I look the part.
A recent conversation got me thinking about this, which is why I am blogging about it today:
I went to my friend's house last night to tattoo him. He was having a penis permanently etched onto his skin, something I tried to explain was a bad idea, but what you gonna do? The guy loves the cock. Anyway, one of his "friends" came over and I was introduced as the friend slash tattoo artist We shook hands. Everything was accepted and understood. Angry face, many visible tattoo's and scars, overly long beard. Tattoo artist.
After I set up I began to actually stab ink into his skin and the conversations flowed. We talked about the new fire pit my friend had gotten for his fiftieth birthday, the local gossip, and classic cars. I contributed to each conversation until they began to wax philisophical about some show on MTV (remember when they used to play video? If you do, you're old) about a bunch of drunken idiots down in Seaside. Upon explaining I had never seen the show they couldn't believe it. They just couldn't believe me, of many tattoos and the long beard did not watch stupid reality shows
Then we started talking about movies. The friend of my friend mentioned recently watching "The Road". He said it was dark and disturbing and fucked up.
"If you think the movie is fucked up," I said while finishing the wrinkly foreskin on my friends penis tattoo, "you should read the book. McCarthy paints a very grey and desolate picture."
They both looked at me like I was the one with the penis tattoo on his chest.
"You read?"
"Yes I read" I replied, knowing how this conversation would go.
"Books?" It's amazing how smart some people are. Who says abortion is a bad thing?
"No, warning labels on soup cans. Yes Books."
"You don't look like someone who reads."
"Sorry, I left my glasses and pocket protector at home. I'll bring them next time." I went back to the tattoo, adding curly hairs to the dangling testicles that rested just above my friends nipple ring.
"Wait, they have warning labels on soup?"
This blatent stupidity got me thinking anout stereotypes. I went home intent on thinking up something witty and intelectual today, especially after the whole "Boycott Dorchester" post yesterday, but I made the mistake of putting on the news.
It seems somewhere ( I forget where exactly ) there is a Muslim teacher who is suing the city she works for because they won't allow her to take 19 school days off so she can go to Mecca. I'm even capitalizing things like Islam and Mecca to seem open minded, even though I am not.
Anyway, this women has a case filed with the DOJ - the Department of Justice, because she says she is being discriminated agaisnt Sorry, you want how many days off? 19 school days, which is 27 consecutive days off. You want that with pay too right? Of course you do.
The school district said they couldn't spare her for that amount of time. They would have to get a substitute teacher in to replace her, which costs the school more money, and then there is the little matter of the children throwing spitballs at the sub for four weeks while this cooky bitch is out walking through the dessert on her way to a giant phallus. Hurry, I need to throw down my little rug and kneel over these recently exploded corpses while a war rages around me so I can get closer to Allah. Whoops, charlie just ran into a bus and blew himself up. Silly Charlie. Fuck, he was my ride.
I can promise you, all humor aside, that I do not hate Muslims. I think everyone should be able to follow their own religion. If that religion makes you a better person than I don't care if you worship a head of lettuce And I am not one of those idiots who thinks all Muslims are terrorists. I know they are not. I know the true Muslims are peaceful and they hate the assosciations way more than we ever could I get that.
But in no way should a bullshit lawsuit like this be allowed to muddy up the courts. You want too much time off. You can't have the time. Tough shit. There is a funny thing about schools, at least some of them; they like to teach their students things. When you pull a teacher out of school for a month it disrupts this learning. When you have to hire a substitute teacher to cover your ass for a month it costs the school money. Money that could be spent on more metal detectors and nutricious lunches. You are throwing a monkey wrench into a system that is already fucked up and nearly broken, so stop rocking the fucking boat and do your job.
So now pause and think. The first thing that should come to your mind is what the fuck does that have to do with penis tattoos, if I can, infact read, and most of all porkrinds?
Nothing. Everything. It's about perception of the world around us, who we really are and what people think about us, and how their perception affects our reality. I still read, I still write, and I will continue to grow my beard, damnit. People will continue to act like self intitled douche bags and cry religious infringment even when they ask for something they know they aren't entitled to, and porkrinds will stay crispy in milk even though we don't think they should.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
The coming apocalypse
I've been reading about it. I've written about it. I've talked about it much to the consternation of my friends. And finally it looks like it's here. Seriously. The Apocalypse is coming. The end is near. Earthquakes, tsunamis, nuclear meltdowns, wars, famines, snow in late March. Cats living with dogs. It's coming people. Lock up your wives, lock up your kids, llock up your husbands, they be raping everybody up here.
So what do we do? Pray? Yeah, thats worked so fucking well in the past. Prepair? how do you prepair for an earthquake? What boat can handle a Tsunami? Where do we go when the Nuclear power plants erupt?
I'm hiding out in my basement, shotgun ready, axe sharpened, can food and bottled water collecting dust as I write this. I don't know when or how it's coming, but it's coming. My bet is still placed on Zombies, but I'm really worried about the nuclear winter, somethig more akin to Mcarthy's book "The Road" then a Brian Keene novel.
I don't see this as a bad thing though. It's kind of a social Darwinism if you think about it. Most of the population is too stupid to survive, so we can loose a lot of the idiots in one foul swoop. Also, since there will be total chaos, only the strong and better prepaired of us will survive, so thats pretty cool too.
Maybe I am just paranoid. I do spend all day sitting alone in my office writing. A lot of what I write about is dark, so maybe this bends reality for me. Maybe it strightens it out though. My first book, which is up on amazon right now is an erotic horror novel about werewolves. I don't think werewolves will have anything to do with the Apocalypse. I am currently writing another novel about Vampires, and I am fairly certain Vampires will have absolutly nothing to do with the Apocalypse. After all, we are their food source, so what happens when we die off? Ooohh, that sounds like another novel idea. Hahahaha.
I've written about witches and monsters and zombies and Satan worshipers, all in books that will be availble soon. I've read about everything from creepy kids to murdering husbands to Zombies and killer worms. None of that scared me as much as the shit that is happening now, for real. It's all played out on the news, on twitter, on facebook, anywhere two people can communicate.
So what do we do? How the fuck should I know? I just write psuedo porn and horror, why would you even consider turning to me for advice? You should know better. I'm ashamed at you.
But, since the world is ending you should hurry up and buy my book on kindle. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004RR13ZI
So what do we do? Pray? Yeah, thats worked so fucking well in the past. Prepair? how do you prepair for an earthquake? What boat can handle a Tsunami? Where do we go when the Nuclear power plants erupt?
I'm hiding out in my basement, shotgun ready, axe sharpened, can food and bottled water collecting dust as I write this. I don't know when or how it's coming, but it's coming. My bet is still placed on Zombies, but I'm really worried about the nuclear winter, somethig more akin to Mcarthy's book "The Road" then a Brian Keene novel.
I don't see this as a bad thing though. It's kind of a social Darwinism if you think about it. Most of the population is too stupid to survive, so we can loose a lot of the idiots in one foul swoop. Also, since there will be total chaos, only the strong and better prepaired of us will survive, so thats pretty cool too.
Maybe I am just paranoid. I do spend all day sitting alone in my office writing. A lot of what I write about is dark, so maybe this bends reality for me. Maybe it strightens it out though. My first book, which is up on amazon right now is an erotic horror novel about werewolves. I don't think werewolves will have anything to do with the Apocalypse. I am currently writing another novel about Vampires, and I am fairly certain Vampires will have absolutly nothing to do with the Apocalypse. After all, we are their food source, so what happens when we die off? Ooohh, that sounds like another novel idea. Hahahaha.
I've written about witches and monsters and zombies and Satan worshipers, all in books that will be availble soon. I've read about everything from creepy kids to murdering husbands to Zombies and killer worms. None of that scared me as much as the shit that is happening now, for real. It's all played out on the news, on twitter, on facebook, anywhere two people can communicate.
So what do we do? How the fuck should I know? I just write psuedo porn and horror, why would you even consider turning to me for advice? You should know better. I'm ashamed at you.
But, since the world is ending you should hurry up and buy my book on kindle. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004RR13ZI
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