thank god for Diego and Dino Dan

Hey turds. How’s your morning? My kid’s a fucking maniac today. He’s running around and destroying things as though he’s out to prove that Dick Masterson’s theory that there’s nothing so inherently masculine (and awesome) as destroying something is a gospel-esque maxim (look up Dick Masterson and particularly his example about waiting in line to get a sandwich…it’s pretty good…no, actually, don’t bother. I’ll tell you. Dick Masterson is the guy who started and he’s a youngish bald guy with a mustache and aviators who’s very articulate and funny, which makes me almost positive that the whole thing is an elaborate ruse that’s designed to just anger the shit out of people [though I’m nigh positive he’d deny that to his dying day] but essentially, he extols the superiority of the masculine over the feminine in all ways, all matters, all possible situations or subjects. Some of the writing gets really dense [or longwinded, I guess would be a slightly more accurate way to describe it] but generally if you can keep yourself from flying off the handle at his over the top misogyny [remember! It’s most likely a joke meticulously crafted to make you angry] it’s pretty entertaining. He mentions something about how a man’s impulse to destroy is so great that he’ll happily stand in line to get a sandwich just to throw it in the street and then follow that up by standing in the same line to get another sandwich just to throw that one in the street too. And that’s awesome for some reason [and THAT is awesome, because uh, well, if you were a man you’d understand how awesome it is to destroy sandwiches, I guess {that’s where the title of this blog coulda come from, folks. It’s a shaming device, like “bad dog!” but, you know, for doomed sandwiches}]).

Anyway, so this kid’s going nuts. He’s got Jelly on his nose. He’s pulled every petal off every one of the flowers on the table. He’s screaming and running around. He’s just opening the fridge and pulling shit out haphazardly and then eating it…at least he’s a good eater though, right?

That’s a big thing with kids: being good at eating. Lots of kids don’t want to eat, which, as Louis CK will tell you, makes you an insane person, because there’s an instinctive need deep in your soul to feed them, and if they won’t eat, it shorts your circuits. It’s like not getting laid when you think it’s about to happen: you get all hot and crazy and sometimes you’ve gotta go walk around the block in the snow just to calm down enough to do something as simple as just sit there and watch tv. Not that I’ve ever had this problem (I’m a level seventeen cocksmith, after all). Just saying. That’s what I’ve heard.

So anyway, yeah. My kid’s a good eater and it’s generally not a problem to get him to try new stuff (yesterday he tried salmon salad [made with hummus and siracha instead of mayonnaise…he hated it, said it hurt his teeth, but whatever. He tried that shit folks!]). It’s a small victory.

My friend was over last night and he was talking about how his daughter doesn’t really eat much because they used to let her watch tv during dinner (which led to her just kind of watching tv and pushing her food around), and now when she has to sit at the ‘big table,’ away from the tv, she’s pissed and won’t eat in protest. It’s a rough scene, but I can sympathize.

Kids are hard as shit to deal with because they’re people, and even when they’re little, even when they can barely speak, they’re as mentally complex as you or me. That leads to major difficulties in getting them to do things they don’t want to do. That’s why grown ups who need to get other grown ups to do shit they don’t want to do invented waterboarding and nipple clamps for car batteries and shit like that. But most people won’t do shit like that to their kids. They’re kids, and torturing kids is uh…wrong. It is. It’s just wrong. You heard it here first.

SO, you give up. You just look at the spot where you’ve gone tragically wrong as a caregiver, they won’t eat or they’re constantly showing off their dick on the playground or they piss in the potted plants or whatever it is, and you say, “ah, fuck it. I’m done trying to fix that particular problem. At least he says ‘please’ and ‘Thank you’ at the right time”, and you move on and pretend you have even the slightest idea of what you’re doing as a parent (you don’t. How could you?…unless you’re that Duggar woman in which case you’re fucking nuts and gross with a big flappy tent for a vagina). That’s why everyone you meet is fucked up and weird. Your parents gave up on you being a nose picker when they realized that your penmanship was at least pretty good.

And now you’re a total pervert because of it. Sigh.

See y’all at Sub T tonight? Cool.

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