Start filling jugs of water, dipshits.

"The town of Losantville is without fire protection after the West Union volunteer fire chief and most of the town's firefighters resigned Monday night. Chief David Fisher walked out of a town board meeting, upset that the board expected him to request in writing five days before the monthly meeting any issue that he wanted to discuss. After the meeting, most of the other volunteer firefighters also turned in their radio equipment to the fire station."

Props to these badasses. Firefighters don't ever get the respect that they deserve. People always talk about cops putting their lives on the line, and firefighters rarely get mentioned. Fuck that. I, for one, find this story fucking hilarious. Firemen are always there to help. There's no crooked firefighters, like cops. So fuck Losantville. You bastards can put your own fires out now. Tough shit.

All my dreams died in Lewisburg last night.

Humid weather and cold wind. Then rain and rolling lightning. Just needed a few beers and I was ready for the tornado. But…nothing. After the storm rocked the shit outta Cambridge, New Castle, and Knightstown, and half-assed its way through Richmond I set out to chase the fucker down. Hoping it'd get stronger after it left the Richmond valley. I caught back up to it in Eaton, hail and all, and was right back in it by Greenville, but by the time I hit Lewisburg it was falling apart. So was I.

Then Bear called on my way back and said a second storm was coming, so I double-timed it back to Richmond, and waited for the sky to tear open at Chuck's. Fucked again. On the other hand, I learned what speed my truck tops out at…and what my career should be. While cloudscapes are badass, I'd much rather have a tornado at night, with a thousand flashlights, and then toss them into it.

Edit: Apparently the reports of a tornado touching down in New Castle and Cambridge were unconfirmed. There was only one confirmed report of a tornado, and that was in Lewisburg...10 minutes before I got there. Nice.

Why I'm so damn smart.

I learned to drive from Need for Speed III, I learned about politics from Final Fantasy Tactics, military imperialism from Shingen the Ruler, the medical industry from Dr. Mario, business from Lemonade Stand, teamwork from Rainbow Six, how to survive from Resident Evil, and how simple life really can be from The Sims.

Mortal Kombat and Tekken 3 taught me how to fight, Doom and Halo taught me how to shoot, Morrowind taught me reading is fun (and helpful), Uplink taught me patience, and Jet Moto 2 taught me speed. Final Fantasy VII taught me sacrifice, Track & Field II taught me exercise, Total War taught me problem solving, Tomb Raider taught me feminism, Parasite Eve taught me biology, Dead or Alive: Beach Volleyball taught me anatomy (haha), and World of Warcraft taught me about addiction.

You claim to have so many better memories than me, saying I spent too much time inside playing video games while you were outside. I think it's the opposite. I was testing my reflexes, hand-eye coordination, and problem solving and reading capabilities. You were playing tag. After its release, I played Final Fantasy VIII fifteen hours straight Levi Coffin weekend. I played World of Warcraft thirty-six hours straight, with Kevin and then Tyler joining in, resulting in me calling into work and Kevin quitting his job.

I remember using spread guns in Super C, solving puzzles in D, killer cows in Diablo 2, building race tracks in Excitebike, saving people from aliens in Defender 2, writing history in Call of Duty, rewriting history in God of War, and helping the Aztecs dominate rival countries in Rise of Nations. You remember staring at clouds and chasing butterflies.

The day kids stop playing video games and go outside is a day to pray for our survival as the dominant creature in the food chain. I learned new words, mathematics, history, science, culture, politics, religion, psychology, and economics through video games, and I had a blast doing it.

Baseball is still baseball. Riding a bike feels the same as it did ten years ago. The sun never changes. The grass is always green and the snow is always white. All four seasons come and go the same time of year every year. But new video games are released every Tuesday. I win.

"Hell is other people."

Stop using religion as a crutch. In fact, stop talking about it completely. At least around me. You're not going to convert me. You've failed. Give up. Heaven does not have lakes full of crystals, or whatever the fuck you said. There's no ivory/pearl gates and no streets of gold. If heaven does exist, it's not a physical place, you fucking dipshit. And hell doesn't have the heat way up all of the time. Satan does not pay gas bills. The next time some hypocritical, holier-than-thou-art bullshit spews from your mouth, I'm going to shove it back down your throat with my fist. Drinking, cussing, and enjoying violent movies are not sins. But using God's name in vain, wanting to cheat on your fiancé, and lying all are. And not having remorse for those ensures you have a seat in hell, motherfucker. You are not hot shit. You are not an actor. You do not have friends. You will not amount to anything. You are fucking retarded.

Stop using everyone around you. You want to make yourself happy and get on your feet? Do it yourself. Better yet, stop saying you're going to do something and just fucking do it. Enjoy the moment, and stop the excessive bitching. You had a rough day? Boohoo. I don't give a fuck. I'm tired of pretending to. The truth is you're talking to a wall. You don't want/need my advice. And I don't want to hear your story. So go find a tree to talk to. Isn't it about time for you to grow up? You say you're confused, unsure, and trying to find your way. But actually you're just lazy and let others do the work for you. Stop fucking people over.

Stop pushing people around you away. Alienating your family and wondering why they no longer come around is a little puzzle you've made that doesn't have any pieces. You're fucked in the head. Everyone sees it. Stop blaming medicine, stress, and money. You still have your memory. You just play it off like you don't, and choose to remember what you want. You are not Sammy Jankis. You are not Mother Teresa. You're just slipping into senility. By choice.

Just stop. Stop all of it. I am not like you motherfuckers. I never will be. Just leave it alone. I am not your knight in shining armor. I am not your savior or your golden child. I don't care if you're proud or disappointed. I don't care about how your day went, the bills you need to pay, your (bullshit) plans for the future, how you feel about love this week, which ugly bitch you'd fuck if you weren't getting married, or what God would think about all of this. I don't give a fuck. I don't say much when you talk to me, not because I'm listening, but because I'm trying to figure out a way to murder you and get away with it. So stop talking and fuck off. All three of you are full of shit and I see right through it.


"Hell is other people." -Jean-Paul Sartre (No Exit)

Tuesday zombie movie marathon.

So after work I decided I’d finally go buy ’Black Sheep’. As you can tell by the cover, it’s about zombie sheep in New Zealand. Sounds badass. I figured Hasting’s would have it. But the fuckers didn’t. So I picked up two other zombie movies I hadn’t seen yet instead, and turned my night into a zombie movie marathon. Here’s how it turned out:

1st Movie…

Resident Evil: Extinction

I was hoping for the best with this one. The first was kickass, and though Apocalypse was somewhat disappointing (especially Nemesis), the trailers looked pretty fucking good. I got about the same enjoyment out of it as the second. Nothing spectacular, nothing horrible. It threw in a lot of cool shit, like: zombie birds, a pryo scene that made me think of the Phoenix, and a slight overall feel that reminded me of ’Day of the Dead.’ But I’m tired of this clone kick that everyone in Hollywood seems to be on. It’s fucking tired. And how in the fuck was that mutated scientist supposed to be cool, let alone the main ’boss’ fight at the end? That shit was as fucking pathetic as it gets. Also, why the hell did all 30 people in the band of survivors get out at every stop they made? Oh, so they could kill off everyone from the previous movies and leave an open ending for the next installment which will apparently only have one person in the cast: Alice, one million times over. Good action, good effects, shitty dialog, and piece of shit plot. 3 severed zombie heads (out of 5).

2nd Movie…

Automaton Transfusion

I knew what I was getting into with this one. A low budget and the whole movie filmed in 9 days. I was expecting zero plot, poor acting, but lots of blood and some precision chainsaw-to-the-face combos. It started off like I expected, with a bunch of pansy high school kids like you see in all the clichéd teen flicks. But I knew this was gonna be good about thirty minutes in when a zombie punched through a chick’s stomach, pulled out a fetus, and ate it. Wow. Despite the serious need of more testosterone in these whiny bitches (especially the men), this movie had it all: shotguns, chainsaws, baseball bats, and even brass knuckles. Then the whole movie went to shit in the last 20 minutes with a fucking moronic ending (military-created zombies after Vietnam) and a huge "To be continued…" before the credits rolled. Fucking lame. 2 severed zombie heads (out of 5).

3rd Movie…

Dawn of the Dead (2004)

Ok, so after those two (somewhat) shitty zombie movies, I put in one that was already my own that I just couldn’t go wrong with. One of the only good remakes, ever. You can’t go wrong with the same director as ’300’ (and the upcoming ’Watchmen’); same music composer as ’300’, Rob Zombie’s ’Halloween’, and ’Doomsday’; Ving Rhames, and a guy perched on a rooftop sniping celebrity look-a-likes. This movie just kicks fucking ass all around. Romero started this zombie shit. There’s no denying it. But in my mind, this is probably the best it will get. I really don’t need to say more. If you haven’t seen it, you’re fucking bait. And you’re not ready. Because they’re coming. 5 severed zombie heads (out of 5).


"When there’s no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the earth."

Fuck hard liquor.

I'm done with it. All of it. No more fucking hard liquor for me. This morning about an hour before work I crawled into the bathroom and threw up half a fifth of vodka and Bloody Mary mix, and a few beers. To help paint this beautiful picture much more eloquently for you, some even came out of my fucking nose. I couldn't even tell if some of it was blood or not. So then I cleaned myself up, took a shower, took eight aspirin, and went to work like a fucking soldier.

After holding the rest down and putting up with the bright fluorescent lights and that motherfucker's annoying motherfucking stories and bullshit, I came to the conclusion that I seriously need to fucking stop. No more waking up and forgetting where my truck is. No more throwing up or hangovers. No more drunk dials. No more cleaning up my puke or being carried out of bars. No more fucking road signs. No more Everclear, Jaeger, vodka, scotch, whiskey, absinthe, tequila, and yes, no more rum or 151. I'm out. I'm done. Fuck hard liquor.

But I'm still down for a round of beers. There's no way I'd stop that shit a week before St. Patty's. I'm taking shit easy now. So be prepared.

Fuck my truck.

So, today, two days after paying a tow bill and for a new tire, which would best be described as blown-the-fuck-open, not flat, I came out to find my back passenger tire locked up from the emergency break. Nothing fucking new. I usually just gunned it and it would kick off, no problems. Not today. Today, instead, I gave it hell and nothing was working, except completely burning my fucking clutch. That worked.

Now I'm paying another tow bill, and over a grand apparently, for the clutch and the new break line. Seems a bit fucking steep to me. Then again, it wouldn't truly be my vehicle until I paid more in repairs in less than two years than what I paid to begin with. It's getting very close to being as great of a vehicle as all of the rest of pieces of shit I've had.

I came up with the idea this morning that I should drive it into a quarry. Then I realized that would be impossible since I can't shift fucking gears. But if I had it towed to the quarry, I could just push the damn thing off. Then I realized that the back wheel was locked up and I couldn't even do that. So my new idea is to set up a stack of bricks and spend all day throwing them at my fucking sorry excuse for a truck. Fuck my truck.

On a side note, some of you fucking assholes are more than welcome to sit in the cab/bed while I throw the bricks. Just a thought. Kill two birds with one stone...

Fuck this blog.

I've come to realize that all of the trivial things in life really aren't. Nothing is trivial. It all really just adds up to stereotypes and genres that everyone fits into. No one escapes a label. It's sad, but fucking true. If you think you don't, just ask someone who doesn't care what you think. I've come to find that I'm everything I've ever hated. I live in black and white. In extremes. The only line that's truly blurry is the one between pessimism and wisdom. And even that starts to clear after half a bottle of Dark Eyes.

I'm so fucking naïve. I believe in fake honesty. It's my Achilles' heel. And whether people realize it or not, they definitely take it for granted and use it to their own advantage. What the fuck compels people to walk all over me, as if they think they have something to gain by it? A fucking enemy, that's what. Truth be told, I'm full of shit. I give everyone a hard time about their beliefs, test them, and make them question themselves. But when it all comes down to it, some of the few things I believe in, I don't even have. I'm not sure how I could believe in something that I don't have, but I think they call that "blind faith." Meaning I'm a hypocrite.

I'm tired of spending my money on unneeded shit, like $3.00 a gallon for gas and going on long drives just thinking, drinking, and doing absolutely nothing. Like $4.00 beers at bars that I'm fucking sick of. Like the 12-16 cigars I fucking smoke everyday. I pretend I'm not addicted to these things, but I know I fucking am. I'm tired of putting up with people's shit, like listening to stories about how they love to brag about themselves. Like how people enjoy telling me what to do with my life. Like how people pretend to understand "the answers" to the shit I go through when they're worse than I am. I'm tired of shit resurfacing that I thought I was through with. I'm tired of shit haunting me. It's fucking killing me.

I'm tired of my parents pretending to be something they're not, like happy. Like when they act like they're decent role models and try to make me feel ashamed for being young. Like when they think they're responsible without a job, more debt than I can imagine, and don't feel guilty for alienating their own fucking family. I'm tired of their shit.

I'm sick of watching promises get broken. I'm sick of the daily fucking grind and it all amounting to jack shit. I'm sick of drama. It's getting so old so quick. I feel like I never even graduated high school and it's what I get up and go to everyday, like I never even fucking left. I'm sick of these same assholes telling me to grow the fuck up. I'm sick of feeling like my mind is that of an eighty-year-old grouchy asshole who's fed up with life and the bullshit it has to offer. I'm sick of pathetic people telling me I need to do something with my life. But trust me, not being like them is motive enough. If I really need to better myself, the best way would be to distance myself from them.

I'm sick of not having the balls to tell people to just fuck off. Or when I just stand there and listen to their bullshit and I don't kick them in the fucking groin. If I just sit there and listen, they start to think I care what they're saying, instead of a hook to the face, which would really tell them what I'm thinking. Maybe I should stop procrastinating and start fucking some people up. Maybe I should start making an effort.

Sometimes I just want to wash the world in gasoline and flick my cigar from a safe distance to watch it spread, and burn completely. Sometimes.

Well, I'm done getting hammered and being emo for the night, so eat shit.

What I believe in.

For those who are confused or just never know what the fuck I believe in:

1. Family - My brother and sister have always been there for me. When my parents didn't, I helped raise them. I helped teach them to read, long before I ever did. And even though I never had the twin I was supposed to have, two and a half years later I think I did. My cousin (my other brother) has always been there for me too. His home was our second.

2. Friends - Some old ones and some new ones. Some of the things they've done for me have been more than I ever would have asked for. I consider them family and I'd do the same for them without hesitation. Family and friends probably shouldn't even be two seperate things.

3. Happiness - The kind that you feel deep inside, not fleeting glimpses of temporary joy. I've felt it before. I know it exists. It's simply a choice, which is completely up to me alone. All I have to do is decide.

4. Love - It's not simply given. It has to be earned. All that's really needed is effort. If I have the first three things, then this one comes with time. I've felt enough hate to know love is real. And I've felt this too. Need a deeper meaning to life? Logic is overrated. To feel is why we're really here.

5. Myself - I've never doubted myself. I've never had problems with believing in myself, which I can say with complete honesty. But I've come to realize that I put others above myself in most situations, and it tends to get taken for granted. So I'm taking a different approach. I call it the 'fuck you' method. I think it's going to work out. At the same time, for those who appreciate me, and I know which ones, I won't change. Why let a few selfish cunts fuck it up for everyone else?

I don't believe in much. Life is subjective. But if you find something to believe in, and you understand it completely, then stand true in your convictions. Uncertainty is worse than being wrong.

Beef for dinner, everyday.

For those not in-the-know, it was recently announced that the FDA “has ruled that it’s safe for meat and dairy manufacturers to use such (cloned) animals as sources for food products. Consumers are wary of the idea of cloned food. But advocacy groups opposed to the use of cloned-source food haven’t come up with a strong reason to stop it. To make sure there isn’t one, any company using cloned animals should label clearly—and monitor what happens as its products go out into the world. Responsible drug companies, toy companies, all sorts of manufacturers do this.”

I don’t know. Comparing a package of cloned hamburger to a Spongebob action figure probably isn’t the best fucking example. Does anyone else think this is one of the most bizarre ideas American fuckheads have come up with in a long time? Sure, this steak is the same as that one, but that doesn’t mean it’s not completely weird. But does that mean we’ll have one fatass cow living in a laboratory that we can just clone over and over? And does that mean we’ll have a shitload more meat to go around, leading to $2.00 t-bones? Fucking doubt it.

“There’s no evidence that cloned food should be prohibited. After all, humans have been eating genetically altered organisms for 10,000 years plus. Wheat, for example, was once a wild grass, cloned and cultivated over hundreds of human generations. Livestock breeding is just low-tech genetic modification. Cows are designer meat and milk factories.”

Good point. We’ve cloned plants, now we’re cloning animals. What else should we be cloning? Can’t have children? Here, we’ll clone mine. Dog got hit by a car? Bring him back. This is so fucking stupid. So, theoretically, if I was a cannibal, could I clone myself and then eat me? Gives new meaning to ‘go fuck yourself.’ I’m personally against cloning because I don’t think we need to be cloning any Americans, since most have shit for brains. Then again, I guess Tyler will never run out of milk again.


"There are more fools in the world than there are people." -Heinrich Heine

Bad whiskey & bad weather.

I normally like winter and never bitch about the cold. But this shit has got to end. I'm sick of it already. Half-assed snow and stupid fucking people that can't drive. If it's gonna snow, it should be enough for me to enjoy it, ie. can't go to work because I have to dig 6ft down to find my truck. And how in the fuck can you people not drive in 1-2 inches of snow? You live in motherfucking Indiana. You should be used to it by now. Jesus.

So you dumbfucks and Mother Nature got me drinking shitty whiskey to stay warm and calm the fuck down. The next dickhead that pulls out in front of me on 35 when I'm doing 55 is gonna have to think up another New Year's resolution. Cheers, fuckheads.

Merry Christmas, fuckers.

Just wishing a bit of half-assed holiday cheer. I hope you all get lots of nice, badass, useless shit that will collect dust and be in the same spot next year. Spike the eggnog and start family drama.

The price to play.

The first recorded practice of taxes was in Ancient Egypt around 3000 BC. I hate to be the one to say this, but “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” This old concept is really fucking simple. Stop all this bitching about paying your taxes. I’m not going to pretend that I enjoy doing it, but I’m smart enough to understand the alternative and its consequences. So you don’t appreciate paying taxes to house and feed convicted felons? That’s cool. Let’s tear down the prisons and fire the jailers, and from now on DUI, larceny, rape, and murder carry only hefty fines. You get caught molesting little boys? No sweat, just pay your ticket. Why lock up killers and perverts when we can just let them roam free with the rest of us? I mean, that’s not worth any kind of money you want to pay, right?
I know most of you ignorant fucks probably couldn’t even find the United States on a world map, so I’ve circled the important part for you on this complex bar graph of income tax from 2005. Of course, this is just income tax, and doesn’t cover others (i.e. sales). But it will serve as a good comparison. To further assist you hairy apes, notice the average percentage for corporate tax in the U.S. is 10% higher than personal tax. You may also notice that the U.S. has the highest corporate tax in the world, just above Japan. Also, you'll see that personal tax in countries like France, Germany, and Belgium is almost twice as high as the United States, and their corporate tax is roughly half of their personal tax. Do you know what all of this translates to? Well, I’m no mathematician, but I think it adds up to: “stop your bitching or someone is going to stuff you into a small box and mail you to fucking Belgium, dickhead.” Again, that’s just my educated guess. Tea parties are for little girls and their stuffed animals. So just keep paying your taxes and shut the fuck up.

A grab bag full of bullshit.

In Washington: The Bush administration has apparently changed policy and cleared the way for the Justice Department to restart an investigation into the government's no-warrant electronic surveillance program, a department official told Congress on Tuesday. Hinchey and other Democrats have been asking for a probe into the legality of the domestic spying program. It involves using the National Security Agency to eavesdrop on international phone calls and e-mails from people inside the United States with suspected ties to terrorists.

Why the hell does any of this matter? Didn’t they change the law on this back in August (‘Bush Throws Another Donkey Punch’)?

By changing the legal definition of what is considered ‘electronic surveillance,’ the new law allows the government to eavesdrop on those conversations without warrants.

Yes, they did. But I see what this really is then. This is to make the administration look more ‘legit.’ Well, after the investigation ‘discovers’ that they never broke the law or some shit. Very creative, Orwellian even. Beneath the Bush, there’s a dirty pussy.


In San Fernando: A nearly indestructible pit bull menaced a pumpkin patch, claiming the lives of an innocent cat and rabbit, before police overpowered it with brute force, authorities said today. An officer arrived and tried to ensnare the pit bull with a leash, but it knocked her over and bolted down Celis Street. "It became evident that the Animal Control officer was unable to recover from her fall and that the officers were forced to take immediate action," the police report read. The officers elected to ram the dog, running over it three times before it gave up.

Yes, you read that correctly. The cops said that stubborn dog refused to give up twice before finally surrendering after the third passing of two tons of metal. But I bet if you asked the dog, he gave up after the first. Or he’s a fucking robot.


In New York: A young man carrying what turned out to be a hairbrush died Monday night in a hail of bullets fired by New York police. The teen put an object under his shirt and told his mother around the time she phoned 9-1-1 that he was going to say he had a gun. Twenty shots were fired; Coppin was struck eight times. Kelly said the teen's mother reported he had not taken his anti-depressant and anti-psychotic medication.

The shooting came a year after unarmed groom Sean Bell, 23, was killed hours before his wedding in a shooting involving New York police. In 1999, unarmed African immigrant Amadou Diallo, 22, died when police in the Bronx shot him 19 times (the latter being the subject of the song “Contempt Breeds Contamination” by Trivium, in which police fired 41 shots total). Bystander Dyshawn Gibson described Monday's shooting to CNN affiliate WABC-TV. "He dropped the brush," Gibson said. "He put his hands up. Police just started firing."

Not much needs said here. Cops shot a man who never showed them his ‘weapon’ or fired one round, even if the bystander is full of it. Apparently it happens a lot with the NYPD. “This isn't justice, this is corruption.”


In Grinnell, Iowa: The college student who was told what question to ask at one of New York Sen. Hillary Clinton's campaign events said "voters have the right to know what happened" and she wasn't the only one who was planted. She said a senior Clinton staffer asked if she'd like to ask the senator a question after an energy speech the Democratic presidential hopeful gave. "I said 'Yeah, can I ask how her energy plan compares to the other candidates' energy plans?'" Gallo-Chasanoff said Monday night.

According to Gallo-Chasanoff, the staffer said, 'I don't think that's a good idea, because I don't know how familiar she is with their plans.' He then opened a binder to a page that, according to Gallo-Chasanoff, had about eight questions on it. "The top one was planned specifically for a college student," she added. "It said 'college student' in brackets and then the question."

Topping that sheet of paper was the following: "As a young person, I'm worried about the long-term effects of global warming. How does your plan combat climate change?" While she acknowledged "it's possible that all campaigns do these kind of tactics," she said that doesn't make it right.

They say kids don’t care? There’s why. That’s Maple Nut Crunch you’re smelling after waking up in front of Laurence Fishburne. Don’t get mad. Do what I plan to do in the ’08 elections: absolutely nothing.

Former presidential adviser David Gergen said the front-runner's campaign could take a hit from the incident. "When a campaign plants a question, it's a pretty minor infraction of the rules -- like a parking ticket," Gergen said. "The problem here is it feeds a damaging perception of Hillary Clinton that she can't quite be trusted.”

Actually, how about this instead? If you lie to the public about your integrity and honesty, it’s not quite like getting a parking ticket. It’s like having DUI’s and becoming a driver’s ed teacher. Get bent.

These lazy bastards we call kids.

This is from PeoplePC news: Jesse Lackman says his son spends a dozen hours a week waging medieval combat across the dreary dreamscapes of computer games. Just don't expect to find Lackman sitting beside him battling ogres and dragons. “It's just such a waste of time," said Lackman, 47, a power plant operator from Center, N.D. "I tell him, 'Do something that has some lasting value.'"

I couldn’t have said it better. Well, unless I tried to. But Mr. Lackman has a point. His son could be doing so many other, more productive things, such as: watching television, reading the shitty local newspaper, avoid spending time with his family by working 60+ hours a week at a power plant, or even complain to interviewers about how pathetic kids are today. Lead by example, I guess. But Mr. Lackman’s son can’t be the only kid in America to play numerous hours of video games:

"I don't think it's good for them, the violence, the obsession," said Karen Kimball, 55, of Hale, Minn., another nonplayer who estimates her 17-year-old son plays 25 hours weekly. "No longer is it, 'Let's go out and throw a football.'"

That’s a very good point. Stop playing violent video games, and play a relaxing sport like football. Kids are just so fucked up today. They don’t respect their elders or authority, they don’t care about politics or religion, they don’t plan for their future or understand the concept of money, and they’re too lazy to leave the house. Wait a minute? Was I talking about kids or adults? Damn…

I guess it’s my turn to bitch. Know what I’m tired of? I’m tired of post-baby boomer, free love hippies who rebelled more than any fucking generation in history, who’ve never fought in any wars, who did more drugs than mankind as a whole, caused the divorce rate in this country to triple within the last thirty years, started a gluttony epidemic with obesity, and without having ever attained a college degree, proceed to lecture children on their mistakes and being apathetic and spoiled while they smoke the cigarettes they’ve tried to quit more times than years they’ve been alive as they sit in the middle of their sixth straight hour of watching shitty sitcoms and fake ass reality shows.

But maybe I’m being too harsh. I’m forgetting that most of these parental critics spend their spare time as actors on Broadway, volunteering aid in Africa, assisting local political campaigns, and fostering multiple children at a time. I hope you shallow fucks all burn in your irony and self-admiration.

Update (11/13/07):

Here's an article from a mother promoting video games. Doesn't happen too often: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/danielle-crittenden/why-your-kids-should-play_b_32365.html

She says the more her son plays "Call of Duty," the more he wants to learn about WWII. So now you all know how I got to be so fucking brilliant.