Okay, this isn't a rant about the guy who plays baseball. Although, there is something to be said of CPAs and lawyers and social workers playing baseball. Those guys take it so seriously. Very seriously. But the next group who takes it seriously: the guys who think that by coaching sports they make up for the fact that they cannot play sports.
Yes, you, Mr. I want to coach the World Cup team so I can tell everyone I know about sports. Look, not to brag, but my right leg is more athletic than you. Seriously. Not my left leg, but definitely my right leg. I think I could hop faster than you can run. How can you tell this guy?
1. He talks about his competitive days. He will make claims about 8 hour tests. He will listen to you talking to your buddies and then come over and brag about how he did something better. You ran a half marathon? He ran a full marathon - and back. You biked 20 miles one day? He does a century before 5am. You broke a board with a kick? He broke a concrete wall - by looking at it.
2. His wife is never seen. Oh, he is married and has kids, but you don't see the wife. She is the soft spoken kind. Why? Well, either he bought her in Russia or some other 3rd world country or he has explained to her that she can do nothing without his permission. She will occasionally show up, but only so everyone can see she is a real person. She will not talk, and when she does, it is looking at your feet.
3. His kids are not athletic, but that is not their fault. It is his fault, since it is his sperm! At all. In any way. Seriously, the trampoline would give them trouble. Walking and chewing gum takes tremendous mental focus for them. They have a difficult time not only figuring out how to throw, but they are barely coordinated enough to throw up.
4. He has big toys. Face it - he is compensating for something. Maybe he drives the Hummer. Maybe he bought the Escalade and than raised it up, although that would mean he cannot get in it without making a fool of himself. He has the latest cell phone or some other techy thing. Yes, it is called COMPENSATION!
5. He recruits kids to his sports team. Yes, recruits. And I do not mean like USC recruiting OJ Mayo. I mean, he is trying to find 6 year olds and 7 year olds to play on his sports team. And his motivation? To beat you. And not the generic you, but you the guy who he thinks he is more athletic than. He wants to prove it to you. He wants everyone to see how great his team is. Really? If you ask anyone to play on your team and they are under 14, you are a big, fat, dumb, moronic, wannabe Spice Girl. (Don't ask, it sounded like it would work. It clearly didn't, but think of my analogies like baseball: .300 ain't bad!) Recruiting little kids to your sports team is a waste of time and energy and means you need hobbies - and a ****.
Am I wrong?
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
My Parenting Skills
Memo to the Dou**ebag going in to the tanning salon tonight:
First, you are a guy and you are tanning? Really? You think it helps. Your guy hanging out over your belt is really what sticks out. The fact that you are soft and pudgy is what the women see. You can have a tan like Ricardo Montalban and it won't help you get a date. Lose some weight. Go on a diet. Try the gym.
Second, you really want to question my parenting skills? Let's leave out for a fact that it is none of your damn business what I am saying to my kid. You have no idea who I am. You do not know who my son is. You should not stop and stare. If you don't like how I am parenting my kid, go home to your sad, pathetic kid free life and bitch and moan to your roll playing friends. I am sure the Dungeonmaster is waiting to hear from you and you can tell him all about how I am such a nightmare parent.
And stopping and looking at a parent and their kid is creepy. Normal people don't do it. People with social skills don't do it. I would normally blame Asperger's, but you clearly did not have Asperger's. You had As*ho**rs. That is a newer disease defined as "suffering from being an a**h***." That is what you are.
When you decide to stop and stare, and you are asked to move on, just do it. Do not stay there. Do not start questioning me. My voice was not that loud. My kid was not crying. And my hands were next to me. There is not one single reason you needed to worry, you wanna-be George Michael. And don't ask if he is my kid. He wasn't screaming or yelling "You are not my daddy." You had absolutely no reason to think anything other than your self inflicted disease. Just because I have no hair and he is adorably cute and has curly hair does not mean he is not my kid, you insensitive bastard.
Finally, the next time someone tells you its not your problem and you should go in to your girly tanning salon, I would suggest you go in and get your spray on tan. You probably cry when you see a UFC fight. Did you ever notice that it is all girls going in to the tanning salon and you? There is a reason for that - MEN DO NOT TAN!
So get on with your pathetic life and do not worry about me. You are a worthless, no good role playing loser who should never have kids. Castration for you would really not be a strong enough punishment for your behavior.
First, you are a guy and you are tanning? Really? You think it helps. Your guy hanging out over your belt is really what sticks out. The fact that you are soft and pudgy is what the women see. You can have a tan like Ricardo Montalban and it won't help you get a date. Lose some weight. Go on a diet. Try the gym.
Second, you really want to question my parenting skills? Let's leave out for a fact that it is none of your damn business what I am saying to my kid. You have no idea who I am. You do not know who my son is. You should not stop and stare. If you don't like how I am parenting my kid, go home to your sad, pathetic kid free life and bitch and moan to your roll playing friends. I am sure the Dungeonmaster is waiting to hear from you and you can tell him all about how I am such a nightmare parent.
And stopping and looking at a parent and their kid is creepy. Normal people don't do it. People with social skills don't do it. I would normally blame Asperger's, but you clearly did not have Asperger's. You had As*ho**rs. That is a newer disease defined as "suffering from being an a**h***." That is what you are.
When you decide to stop and stare, and you are asked to move on, just do it. Do not stay there. Do not start questioning me. My voice was not that loud. My kid was not crying. And my hands were next to me. There is not one single reason you needed to worry, you wanna-be George Michael. And don't ask if he is my kid. He wasn't screaming or yelling "You are not my daddy." You had absolutely no reason to think anything other than your self inflicted disease. Just because I have no hair and he is adorably cute and has curly hair does not mean he is not my kid, you insensitive bastard.
Finally, the next time someone tells you its not your problem and you should go in to your girly tanning salon, I would suggest you go in and get your spray on tan. You probably cry when you see a UFC fight. Did you ever notice that it is all girls going in to the tanning salon and you? There is a reason for that - MEN DO NOT TAN!
So get on with your pathetic life and do not worry about me. You are a worthless, no good role playing loser who should never have kids. Castration for you would really not be a strong enough punishment for your behavior.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Octuplet Overload
Okay, so this lady, and I don't remember her name and don't care enough to look it up, had octuplets. You have heard about that. She had six kids and decided it would be a good idea to have more. She went to a crazy fertility doctor who implanted her with too many embryos and she ended up with eight babies.
So, how did she pay for this $100,000 or so treatment? She used money from her $165,000 disability settlement. Of course, that runs out. Oh, and she had her parents watch her other 6 kids. Of course, now they are being foreclosed on. Her first publicist quit after getting threats. That publicist worked for free. Brilliant move for that person. They got more pub than they could buy.
Octuplet mom now wants to go back to school to finish her master's degree. Sure. Right. Like that will happen. What is she going to do, go to school while her kids live in a cardboard box? No, wait, she is going to go on welfare. She already is on welfare.
Now, I don't have a problem with welfare for people who need it, but 14 kids? Really? You do not need welfare. You need to be fixed. Wait, it is called a tubal ligation. Being fixed is for animals. Of course, having 8 babies at once is like a litter so maybe she does need to be fixed.
So, now Oprah wants to talk to her. I am sure Katie Couric will want to talk to her. Hell, she needs ratings. Maybe Maury. Geraldo got going, but had to go open an empty vault. (The alliteration there is funny.)
This lady may be a moron for having 14 kids or 8 at a time. But, she is crazy like a fox. She is in the newspaper every day. Her name, whatever it is, is all over the internet. The tv folks want her. The radio folks want her. Hollywood wants to do the Hollywhore story, er, I mean the story of the woman who had 14 kids.
Look, you want 14 kids, do it the Duggar way. Have one at a time from the time you are 12 until you are 40. Then, when your youngest is born and your oldest is getting married, go on the honeymoon with your oldest. That's normal. Maybe, and here is an idea, you shouldn't have 14 kids. It makes no sense.
Really, it is dumb. Idiotic. Stupid. One kid is a lot of work. Two kids are not twice as much work, but two and a half times more work. Three kids is crazy. And that is doing it with two parents. You want to do this by yourself like you are some supermom. You can't even take care of your current kids. You need your parents to do that. And you have the audacity to have more kids? Sheesh.
14 kids means you are looking for TLC to do a show about you. Maybe you can enter your kids into Toddlers and Tiaras.
Hey, crazy octuplet mom, why don't you enter your kids into that? They can compete against each other. You would probably like that. Maybe your older kids, who are clearly going to be teased at school, would like to whoop on the octuplets in a pageant. You could use the money after all.
Here is my offer to you: I have $5 for you to leave. No, not leave LA. Stay there. Leave the press. Stop talking to the media. Get your parents to close the door, lock it and not open it again. I don't want to see them on tv. I don't want to see you on tv. I don't want to hear from any of you. I don't even want to read about you anymore. Stop. Go home. Leave us alone. Go take your 14 kids and pray every night that they grow up to be good citizens and not sponges on the system like you.
So, how did she pay for this $100,000 or so treatment? She used money from her $165,000 disability settlement. Of course, that runs out. Oh, and she had her parents watch her other 6 kids. Of course, now they are being foreclosed on. Her first publicist quit after getting threats. That publicist worked for free. Brilliant move for that person. They got more pub than they could buy.
Octuplet mom now wants to go back to school to finish her master's degree. Sure. Right. Like that will happen. What is she going to do, go to school while her kids live in a cardboard box? No, wait, she is going to go on welfare. She already is on welfare.
Now, I don't have a problem with welfare for people who need it, but 14 kids? Really? You do not need welfare. You need to be fixed. Wait, it is called a tubal ligation. Being fixed is for animals. Of course, having 8 babies at once is like a litter so maybe she does need to be fixed.
So, now Oprah wants to talk to her. I am sure Katie Couric will want to talk to her. Hell, she needs ratings. Maybe Maury. Geraldo got going, but had to go open an empty vault. (The alliteration there is funny.)
This lady may be a moron for having 14 kids or 8 at a time. But, she is crazy like a fox. She is in the newspaper every day. Her name, whatever it is, is all over the internet. The tv folks want her. The radio folks want her. Hollywood wants to do the Hollywhore story, er, I mean the story of the woman who had 14 kids.
Look, you want 14 kids, do it the Duggar way. Have one at a time from the time you are 12 until you are 40. Then, when your youngest is born and your oldest is getting married, go on the honeymoon with your oldest. That's normal. Maybe, and here is an idea, you shouldn't have 14 kids. It makes no sense.
Really, it is dumb. Idiotic. Stupid. One kid is a lot of work. Two kids are not twice as much work, but two and a half times more work. Three kids is crazy. And that is doing it with two parents. You want to do this by yourself like you are some supermom. You can't even take care of your current kids. You need your parents to do that. And you have the audacity to have more kids? Sheesh.
14 kids means you are looking for TLC to do a show about you. Maybe you can enter your kids into Toddlers and Tiaras.
Hey, crazy octuplet mom, why don't you enter your kids into that? They can compete against each other. You would probably like that. Maybe your older kids, who are clearly going to be teased at school, would like to whoop on the octuplets in a pageant. You could use the money after all.
Here is my offer to you: I have $5 for you to leave. No, not leave LA. Stay there. Leave the press. Stop talking to the media. Get your parents to close the door, lock it and not open it again. I don't want to see them on tv. I don't want to see you on tv. I don't want to hear from any of you. I don't even want to read about you anymore. Stop. Go home. Leave us alone. Go take your 14 kids and pray every night that they grow up to be good citizens and not sponges on the system like you.
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