Thursday, August 30, 2007

Bringing up Baby

Many of you know my dealer......uh..."friend", Karla. She recently shot a kid out and it's the cutest darn life form I've seen in quite some time. In fact, seeing that baby's squishy face has brought out the care-giver in me. Since the birth of her daughter (son? what did she have again?) I've felt the sudden and oftentimes sickening urge to make the world a better place. Now I'll be the first to admit that doing so could be accomplished through the mere act of choosing not to scream obscenities at old people driving half the speed limit during my morning commute. However, I'm never one to take the easy way out or into any situation. Not to mention, I clearly have next-to-no interest in changing my life too overly much. Logic dictates I should choose something that would look good to the average person and yet not require a great deal of effort or consistency on my part.

Which is why I chose to buy my way into the illusion of a clearer conscience which, in the end, feels the same to me. It's pure genius really. I'll buy something for the little rugrat that outwardly shows my feigned interest in it's future health and well-being. I come off looking like a saintly optimist who's completely in touch with the needs and direction of the average American Family, plus I'm helping out the economy or something-or-other by contributing to local commerce, free trade and if I play my cards right: a year's salary for some 9-year-old working in a sweatshop in Bangladesh. It really is a win-win.

I'm fully aware that given who it is we're talking about here the most likely scenario is she'll just end up hocking a Diaper Genie or set of Baby Einstein DVDs for some smokes and another month on her Valtrex prescription. But I can't worry about that right now. I have to stay focused on what's really important: making myself look better. So, be that as it may.... I'm growing quite confused over what to get and whether the baby will ever set eyes on it if it turns out to be of some monetary value. Clearly I can't get anything too overly expensive or with high resale value not to mention an active trading history on the black market. So it begs the question: What do you get someone like Karla; a lady with everything but class, a clean police record and a year's worth of sobriety since she was like 7?

For me, liquor's simply out of the question...I know first hand that she's got at least 60 bottles hidden in various places at any given time. And trust me, her ingenuity in camouflaging them is only matched by her ruthlessness in their retrieval. It cost me $4,000, 2 surgeries and a month's worth of rehab to get over her last game of "peek-a-booze". I still cringe when I see a bottle of Grey Goose......

So I may not be emotionally capable of contributing to what her husband and friends refer to as the slow inoculation of a nicer, sweeter Karla. At least not ever in that way again. But, since I am in the "giving" spirit, I figure I can help assist the next generation in learning for themselves the arts that are binge drinking, addiction and the morning-after clean-up. As luck would have it, I ran across a series of books I feel best demonstrate the direction today's youth should lean both in education and life-preparation in order to better care for their parents when that time comes. And for this child, that time most likely will come much sooner than she thinks.

Now I know what you're saying: "But Patti, shouldn't the child learn the differences between distilled and fermented liquors and when it's more appropriate to offer pure grain alcohol over something more subtle?" and I do see your point. My gift is only meant as a starter course for the average infant/toddler and is no way meant to supply any child with ALL of the necessary skills required to fully provide the self-medicating assistance so vital to the care of today's stressed-out parents. I only wish it were easier and the information more readily available. Unfortunately, this beginner's manual will simply have to be a good enough place to start. Perhaps this generation of future addicts will do a better job of creating more suitable tools for teaching these valuable life-skills, provided they're not all too hosed to even recognize that spark of innovation when they see it.




I am actually rather fond of the illustrations and the way the author seems to meld the needs of the parents with the type of artwork and content that most appeals to small children. It's virtually flawless in it's design as it provides useful guidelines on a cardboard structure enabling the teething youngster to assist parents without wasting time and attention on their own overly personal impediments. The fact that the author then goes out of her way to acknowledge and reward the efforts of the child with a most gracious display of appreciation at the end....well that is what makes this item well worth it's price tag.




There are other titles in this series, I simply chose this one since it requires no real means of mobility or skill other than the ability to grasp large objects. And we all know she's already doing that!

Thursday, August 23, 2007

So she's always on top....

Man with 78 kids plans 22 more
Monday, August 20, 2007

A one-legged, sixty-year-old father of 78 is lining up his next two wives in a bid to reach his target of 100 children by 2015, according to reports from the United Arab Emirates. Daad Mohammed Murad Abdul Rahman, 60, has already had 15 brides - although he has to divorce them as he goes along to remain within the legal limit of four wives at a time, Emirates Today reported on Monday.

'In 2015 I will be 68 years old and will have 100 children,' the local tabloid
quoted Abdul Rahman as saying.

'After that I will stop marrying. I have to have at least three more marriages to hit the century.' The newspaper splashed its front page with a picture of Abdul Rahman surrounded by his children, the eldest of whom is 36 years old and the youngest of whom is 20 days old. Two of his current three wives are also pregnant.

Abdul Rahman said his large family lived in 15 houses. He supports them with his military pension and the help of the government of Ajman, one of seven emirates that comprise the UAE, which includes the Gulf trade and tourism hub of Dubai.

Islam allows men to marry up to four women at a time, though most marry only one. The UAE is a Muslim country, but is home to migrants from around the world.
I don't even know where to begin so give me a moment to collect myself.


okay. *whew*

the fuck people!? One leg? Seriously. Most guys have three though right (or am I measuring wrong)? HA! I kid I kid!*

No, I'm just baffled I guess. How is this one-legged old man able to get so much poon and people who are far more bangable continue dating "Rosey" night after night... after night? I guess it's possible that one leg is hot in Dubai kinda like getting deathly levels of bacterial nerve toxin injected into one's forehead is hot here. Wait, did I say "hot"...I meant fubar.

Obviously, I can't imagine it but I can admit that it could happen.
Of course, I can't admit to such a thing without feeling like Dubai isn't just another one of them there seven United Arab Emirates (love that last word by the way....looks like "Pirates" if...you know, you're drunk and can't spell or read); it's instead part of a parallel universe where rich people actually go to jail and handicapped porn sells faster than Karla can entice the degenerate friends of hers to make it. It's basically a land made entirely out of cotton candy clouds and licorice trees where people fart cherry blossoms and shit bucket loads of skittles.

This place....this haven for the unfuckable....it's like imagining a world where your day starts precisely at noon, you work exactly 2 hours each day and that includes 1 hour for lunch, you're then whisked away to the spa for the afternoon where if you so choose your massage comes with a "happy ending"...then as you're sipping drinks poolside your boss calls to tell you that your one-hour-a-day performance is phenomenal and he's honored to have you on his team...so honored in fact that he feels compelled to not only offer you another 100-grand a year but also the services of his 22-year-old trophy wife and her twin sister who he reveals, have had their eye on you for some time and never one to deny his little darling what she wants, he's taken the liberty of commissioning a limo to pick you up and take you to a privately chartered plane where a team of Asian porn-stewardesses are standing by ready to fluff you all the way to Bora Bora at which time your plane will be met by none other than his bimbo wife and her "identical-except-for-the-beauty-mark-on-one-twins-no-no-special-place" sister who not only both enthusiastically encourage you to find said beauty mark without using your hands.....but are also......wait for it.....

NAKED!

GOD, yeah.....It's really THAT difficult for me to imagine. Where was I?....

Oh yes, Pogo. Don't get me wrong, I love me some turban-wearing gang bangers (a term used here to imply multiple sexual partners at once and not an affiliation with 'da west-si-eeeeeee-d') just like the next person. I just hate to break it to Daddy Ramen up there but the likelihood that ALL of those kids are his is pretty slim. His brother, his neighbor, one of his elder sons hittin' it with his younger step-mom? Yep. All more likely to have happened than the mind-numbing lies he's trying to sell. In fact, I believe even I am more likely to have fathered some of those kids and I readily admit that 1) I don't have a penis and 2) I haven't been to Dubai in like 3 years and that trip was the result of waaaay too much tequila at a high altitude. Regardless, dude is kidding himself and he should feel lucky the closest thing they have to a paternity test over there is eye-witness testimony from whatever family members sleep closest to you every night.

Which reminds me....I used to have a 10-gallon tank of guppies I bought basically because they didn't bark, wouldn't shit on my carpet and were highly unlikely to regurgitate anything into my favorite house shoes. Originally, I bought like 2 males and maybe 5 or 6 females and thought it would be cute to have little guppy babies swimming around in there....sort of like playing God and choosing who would breed. Fun stuff. Anyway this experiment of creationism stayed cute for all of about 3 months when I began to notice that there were just a lot of fucking fish in my pansy ass little $20 tank. I'm not talking "here a fish there a fish everywhere a fish-fish" either. HELL no! I don't even think there was water in the tank at one point...it was just this gyrating sea of reflective scaly bits writhing together like the churning tides as they answer the call of the moon....only it smelled like the Poop Sea and instead of the moon I just had a flickering florescent bulb that cast this eerie green haze into the depths of the tank, which now that I think about it reminded me a lot of Swamp Thing...don't know why. But I digress....it was a filthy hovel of a fish tank because I refused to reach into the thing to clean it out. Fish were getting pregnant by the sheer accident of not having enough room to go around each other. Brothers were fucking their sisters, dads had their daughters....it was the slum of all slums and I finally had to admit that I made a positively horrible God-type-thing. Fish bodies started floating to the top where I'd skim them off hoping none of the other fish had noticed. Fearing that they had and were launching a surprise attack in order to free themselves from the grip of their evil Overlord (namely, me). I had to sleep with one eye open for the entire last week I had them! It was
THAT.BAD.

Anyway...anytime people like this damn-near pull a hammy trying to impregnate everything not quick enough to flee, it reminds me of my fishy ghetto and all of my impoverished guppy families forced to nibble at each other's tails for nourishment. It's not that I didn't feed them, mind you...the food simply never reached the ones at the bottom (but...ain't that always the way???)....

true story.



*I'm so not kidding

Friday, August 10, 2007

Organization...not just for ugly losers anymore


that's right...in spite of the company I keep and the things that entertain me, I'm really quite intelligent...educated even. Well, not in the "legitimate" sense but hey, look at where our great country would be if we required everyone to live by legitimate means. Besides, I can whip up a degree or two to get me by in my sleep...well, actually my kids can but who do you think pays their bills? Well, okay the older one has his own "chemistry" business in his bedroom and that seems pretty profitable (it got me these new shoes and this ring.....OH! and some cute little pill looking things that help me stay up so I can watch my stories: The Real Wives of Orange County and Jerry Springer's Most Shocking. They're also really good at dissolving those pesky clogs in the tub.....I got such great kids ya'll.....). But back to me. I am one organizational machine. As a part-time mom and full-time Wife-for-a-Night...I have to be!

Anyway, before long it'll be time to send the little crotchlings back to detention..I mean school! Where the seeds of knowledge will take root in their little minds and quite likely cause a tumor. But, what doesn't kill them will, by golly, make them stronger and more capable of providing for me in my old age. (I'm a giver) However, with the addition of their school schedules I find it benefits the entire family if I do a few things to help limit the amount of clutter and basically streamline the daily processes we each undertake as we prepare for our individual days. I likewise delegate and correlate the evenings activities so that Mommy's "business meetings" don't get interrupted and the kids get their daily tasks done.

Friends and fiends, I'm here to share my knowledge with you! May you benefit from my expertise.....

Step 1: De-clutter. You might be saying "But Patti, what constitutes clutter?" to which I reply "Jesus people!. How retarded do you have to be to not know when some thing's messy?" It's simple: if it's in your way and it doesn't belong to you, it's clearly trash. This isn't the time to be sentimental either. Grow some balls and then, just like your crusty shorts, stick to 'em. Your spouse might complain about not having "their own things" and your kids might feel like they're "no longer loved" but your ability to free your family space will eventually help them to feel freer to look outside the home for companionship and safety. And that's what being a parent is all about: teaching our kids how to be independent as soon as possible. Which brings me to my second step.

Step 2: Learn to Conserve. This applies to everything from food to electricity and even laundry. It's a common misconception that kids need several sets of clothes. I mean, get real. They only have ONE body right? I've found that by throwing away all of there clothing except one complete set, I free up hours of my time every week that used to be spent sorting and resorting mountains of clothes just to have them get dirty the next week. So long as your child bathes regularly, there's no reason they can't wear the same thing day, after day, after day. Yes, they'll resist this logic at first. But, if you also implement my de-cluttering and food conservation ideas...before long, they won't have the energy to expend on back-talk and sassing. Not only that, but the decreased intake of food will help them get the most use out of their clothes over time. Another common misconception is that people need 3 meals a day. By giving my family safe, over-the-counter sleep aids I've found that they'll naturally sleep through breakfast and lunch. Conserving food in this way has saved my family more than $700/month! Wow! Don't continue to buy into the government and corporate propaganda surrounding nutrition, health and safety. They spread lies such as The Food Pyramid to instill fear and further separate you from your hard-earned money. It's time you reclaimed your financial freedom!

moving on...

Step 3: Delegate. This idea that the parents or adults in the household are responsible for it's upkeep is not only medieval but it's dangerous! How are our children supposed to learn how to re shingle a house, unclog a sewer line or install customized strobe lighting over Mom's vibrating bed if we don't teach them? I am sick to death of watching other parents slave over their children as they happily poop their pants and just expect that someone will come along and clean it up. The time has come for us to stand together and say "No....it is not okay for you to cry between the hours of 8:00pm and 8:00am. No...it is not okay for you to continually force us to take time away from the things we enjoy just so you don't feel alone. And No...it is not okay for you to shit yourself." As adults, we deserve to be happy too and if we continually buy into this ideal that kids can't take care of themselves...well, we simply never will be.

Step 4: Take time out for you. The previous steps might confuse some people into believing that after systematically removing all of your family's possessions and finally getting the kids outside to clean the gutters and fix that flickering porch light that you surely have found more than enough time for yourself. Well, that's simply not the case. Would it surprise you to learn that 97% of all people ever to have lived desire more time?* Moreover, would it surprise you that 85% of women choose to spend their free time on other people?** See, by freeing up your time with my earlier tried and true methods, even the most highly motivated and selfless individuals can get sucked back into their old ways. Study after study *** has proven, when given a window of inactivity we quickly race to fill it with more work. The type of work might vary; it might be binge drinking, fornicating with multiple loose women of questionable cleanliness or simple All-American porn...every one's different. But what isn't different and what can affect us all should we grow careless and lax is what I consider a Global Crisis of Giving. You can hardly throw a stick in a crowded orphanage without hitting a handful (of children mainly) of charities. They all either want your time or maybe your blood....some want money, some want your soul and some even want your wife.

I'll leave it up to you if you want to dispose of family members in such a way. However, there are two things you simply cannot part with; one is obviously your money (crack won't buy itself), the other is your time. Regardless of the cause, it's highly unlikely anyone at the receiving end of any charity even knows you exist. Therefore, it stands to reason that if you choose not to donate of yourself or your money these people will likely starve to death or go blind or something. This is perfectly normal. The important thing is that they do so never knowing it's because of you. It's vital to your own health and sense of well-being that you strive to retain a clear conscience at all times. So please, feel free to discern the truth in whatever way best achieves this goal. However, do try to remember that while "idleness is [indeed] the glove into which evil slips it's hand"... it's also true that "candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker".




Goodnight and good luck.

*99% of all statistics are made up on the spot.
**You can interpret "on people" in whatever way amuses you.
***of course there's no study...idiot!

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Cynicism...the other white meat

I'm old. In fact, I just turned one year older last month (only because the alternative was considered the worse option I assure you). What did I get, you ask? Well, I thank you for caring to be sure. I in fact most graciously received the abundance of:

1) elevated cholesterol (Body by Bacon)
2) a prescription for Lipit0r (now with more anal leakage!)
3) a grey hair in my eyebrow (the fuck?)
4) a rather bad case of constipated diarrhea (the double fuck?)
5) and a pissed off partridge in a pear tree (couldn't give me a happy one could ya?)

Amazing! Yes, yes...I know. I would've settled for a card quite frankly...there was no need to get excessive.

Getting old isn't for sissies, I'll admit that. But the lengths some people go to in order to fight the fade is entertaining, yes, but also buck-ass CRAZY! From slicing-and-dicing to shooting up with other species and even drinking some one's pee (their PEE goddammit!), it's clear people will do damn near anything to at least feel like they're still young. Notice I said "to feel like" and not "to stay" because it doesn't work...none of it. Go ahead...slather on huge vats of fetus cream and plump your shit up with stewed hot wheels and fermented silly putty if you just have to. But know this: you look re-fucking-tarded. Not to mention you smell funny. I mean, whose bright idea was it to bathe in pureed babies and then go tanning anyway? What did you think it would smell like?

Honestly people.

It's with a great sense of redundancy that I feel I even have to say...fuck Clinique, Merle Norman and Este Lauder...your shit's going to wrinkle, crinkle and eventually makes it's way to the complete opposite side of your body. Duh! And it won't matter how many babies you've eaten or how many gallons of urine smoothies you ingest. Nobody dies looking 20 unless they are, in fact, 20 and even then a lot of those look 40 once you remove the perks of PhotoShop and spray-on makeup. So give it up. Instead of focusing on shit that's so useless as to be depressing, why not spend all that easily-won, hard-stolen (whatever) money on things that stand a snowball's chance in hell of making a difference. Like liquor and a relatively decent satellite teevee package.

It's not just that I find this sort of nonsensical behavior in others irritating. No, with age it seems, comes an equal-opportunity, nothings sacred, cynicism. Yes, I'm beginning to realize I hate quite a lot of things and most of those things coincidentally have something to do with people. In fact, the odds are pretty damn high that I'm hating you as I type this and am doing so with every confidence that I'm making the right choice. My cynicism isn't what really bothers me though. I mean, it certainly isn't that others might think less of me or that I'll lose your friendship. Fuck your friendship. We all know you suck so that's not the point. The point is, however, that day by day, year by year, it's becoming clearer and clearer that this is how Old Lady Rage is born. I'm turning into a bitter old hag right before my very eyes and I'm not even sure I care! All the signs are there: I'm overly critical, habitually pessimistic, righteously angry, offensively opinionated and the balls of it is........eh, so what.

It's my cynicism that keeps me from buying into the marketing hype that surrounds most "miracle cures" for aging though. So it has it's benefits. Which reminds me: "miracle"..."cure"? Does someone, somewhere honestly believe that god (buddha, jehovah, allah etc.) gives two shiny shits about saving anyone (let alone you!) from aging? Moreover, would he/she/it consider it a disease in need of curing? It's nothing more than time passing you by. And saying "time is a disease" is like saying the month of June hates you. If it could I'm sure it would, but that's not really the point here. No, the point is I'd rather put a stripper through community college than spend one penny buying into the fraud that is the cosmetic side of Commercial Whorism.

It's already well-known that Americans will buy anything. If you don't believe me check out some of these interesting yet disturbing items.

Oh and next time you go in for that collagen injection, consider THIS. Collagen from cadavers huh? Gee. Sounds so "third world" doesn't it? Not so fast....it happens in the US too.

Yeah, I'm a cynic. But at least I'm not walking around sporting a $1000 set of Dead Hobo Lips and feeling like I've never been more beautiful.

Somehow, getting this













from this














just doesn't seem....I don't know...what's the word?


Oh yeah!

SANE!