Sunday, July 19, 2009

Son of a @#$%^#%&!!.....

I’ll never know the true nature of my six year old cousin, his intentions, or most importantly, how incredibly annoyingly and stupid he really is. He insists himself and his bullshit on you whether you like it or not. It’s almost incredible how something so small could be so powerfully nerve-wrecking, maybe to the point of having the super human ability to make a grown indiuvidual become retarded, from being so stupid. Not just that but I come to find more and more that so far, all of the children I've met to this day are plain and simply, insensitive, selfish little assholes. They want and want and want and gimmie gimmie gimmie, now, now, now, me, me, me. The boys may be even worse than the girls, which isn’t saying much; it's like saying the herpes have been worse than genital warts: they’ve both still been a bothersome annoyance that you have to put up with every day. (I dont have herpes or genital warts) I don’t even know why the people who've made them, think it's a great idea, to continue making more of them!!

There are good young mothers in the earth who are smart and conscious and know when to quit, and then there are young, dumbass mothers who just have them so they could have like a little Mattel doll of their own to play with, like if it was something fashionable to show off to their Pilates friends at Starbucks when they run out of things to say about their iPhone, Twitter and celebrity news convos. That or they crap em out cuz they swear this is going to fix the hole in their lives that Jesus and the gym couldn’t and now this is going to solve all their problems.

But then the craze passes, and the kid turns 7, and now he’s old news, so Crap Mommy bought a Yorkie and is spending all the time at Starbucks with her other young Crap Mommy Pilates friends and their Yorkies cuz that’s the new little thing that needs feeding and changing and burping, from Mattell! But now they can’t return the kid (that was sooo “yesterday"!), so what do they do? They stuff it in a room, chalkfull of Wii and Spongebob, just so the little fucker could go away and leave them alone. Alone to tend to their shopping and Kindling and ebaying and combing their purse puppies, and talking about the boobs their husbands bought 'em. And that’s where people like me get (surprise, surprise!) tangled in the middle, because when jr. sees that daddy’s always too old and busy, and mommy, well, mommys at the “spa” again, and Spongebob and Super Mario got tiring, they run out of, I guess, a role model, or something they can waste their overconsumption of sugar (that the nanny keeps letting them have) out on, and, for some reason, I’m the first thing that pops up. Shit. It’s like being the Pied Piper, but I never cared to play the fucking flute, and these mice and fucking intrusively running my last nerve ragged more and more as the days pass, every day from sunup to sunset, from the first thing when I wake up, to the last thing when I try to go to sleep! And very rarely does anyone jump in, since Spongeme is so much more convenient for these mommies and daddies. I love kids, but a week straight sunup to sunset, moonup to moon..umm, set, especially with ones that aren't even yours or mine, will completely well, make you think thoughts like this:

I think, that all the young, caring, and conscious mothers, of the western hemisphere (or at least this island- the number would be faaaarr less!), should get in a big car (I drive!), and in this car, there would be a shotgun for all of them, and we should go around the island, and find these crap mommies, and shoot them. Shoot them in the vagina! (was that too much? The voices didnt think so). This may not really do much to fix the problem, but it would sure make a lot of us feel much better.

I love my six-year old cousin, but every now and then, not every now not then. Hey, I also like going to the crapper, but if I was around the crapper all the time on a mostly daily basis, anyone would say, that that can't be a good thing, because eventually, shit is going to overflow and hit the fan!

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