There is no big mystery to raising kids.
Obviously this isn’t coming from any personal experience regarding child rearing. I’m twenty years old and like to think I’m fairly aware of the poor quality of my fatherly abilities. In other words I have none, which is why I don’t make stolid, reckless decisions to impregnate women. I’m a stranger to motherhood or fatherhood, but my decision to remain out of that arena has allowed me to see how horribly incompetent and moronic a lot of you mommies and daddies actually are. This includes but is not limited to those of you who thought it would be a fun and trendy idea to fertilize with or become fertilized by the hardy sperm at the ripe age of 16. My grievances with your stupid impulsiveness also encompasses the parents who should be old enough and mature enough to know how to take care of their brood.
I’m not pretentious enough to think that raising children is a cakewalk, because taking care of sticky, smelly, goblins sounds dreadful. Those little bastards are demon-spawn that wreak havoc on the mental integrity of anyone they come in contact with. I do not like children. But that’s probably why I’m choosing not to have them now isn’t it?
First off, I’m getting a little tired of these adolescent cum-repositories skittering around their high schools with a fatass gut protruding from their torso. While this degeneration could also include people who can’t put their Big Mac’s and syrupy bubble water down long enough to take a fucking walk, the degenerates I’m referring to are the one’s carrying around Tims, Jennifers, and Steves (though the names some of these shit-balls are given these days are usually far more fucking goofy) inside of them. Since when did pregnancy, an aesthetically similar condition to obesity, become “cute” and “trendy”? Once upon a time it’s only purpose was to keep the human species alive. Those were the days when men were men; Hairy, smelly brutes who slaughtered furry elephants and lived in their carcasses. Women carried units inside of them at all times, but for a very essential purpose. Nowadays there is no reasonable scenario I can think of where an immature 16 year old girl would be preparing to raise a child of their own. They can’t even take care of themselves yet, and they expect support on their decision to ruin their own life and the life of a child? Get fucking real. Oh you’re dropping out of high school? Maaaybe finishing it and getting a GED so you can work 80 hour weeks for the rest of your life while your child gets obese off of the leftover burgers you take home from McDonalds? Get your own shit straight before bringing someone else into the world who has to share in the rotten fruit of your indiscretion.
Now, provided that you’re a mother or father of modest means who got their life in order before deciding to start a family, don’t think that you can just walk away and expect your kid to just turn out fine. It’s worth clarifying that my idea of a “life in order” is more than just not living with mommy and daddy anymore. Your life isn’t in order until you make an annual salary sufficiently above the poverty line, and you actually have some quality of life. Sadly just because children today are being raised in a potentially adequate environment, doesn’t necessarily make it so. This is where the title of “parent” actually comes into place.
The television is not a babysitter.
Any parent who dumps their kid in front of a TV to play video games or watch shows and movies, deserves to be kneed in the mouth. You wonder why your kid is an unsightly pile of sagging protoplasm? Maybe it’s because he’s 10 and still hasn’t traversed ten feet of your four acre yard, you stuck up yuppie faggot. Plop your kid outside, give him a stick, and tell him to go have some fun. That’s all you need when you’re a kid. A stick. When I was little I spent hours pretending I was a knight, digging to China, or making stick forts. Send your kids outside to play with the neighbors so they can develop social skills that reruns of CSI can’t provide.
“There’s no manual on how to raise kids!”
That’s actually a lie bigger than the craters on your cottage cheese ass. Turns out there are literally thousands of books and manuals on child rearing.
Pick one (or all) of them up and read it. I know that may be hard because you actually have to do something that involves minute amounts of comprehension, but I have faith that you can do it. Unless you’re just using the “There’s no manual” argument as an excuse to slack off of your duties. Pussy.
Don’t sue someone every time your kid gets a boo-boo
Ever wonder why there’s no more dodgeball in school? Because these rich, greedy asshole parents like to sue schools whenever their child gets hit with a ball in gym class. They throw thousands of dollars at lawyers who make a horse-shit case about how the school was participating in “exclusionary and violent acts that negatively impacted the child’s self-esteem” which forces the school to remove dodgeball from the gym class curriculum. This trend continues and before you know it there won’t be any gym class at all, freeing up an empty class period which then becomes nap time. At least until their kid has a bad dream and the parents sue the school for “attempting to conduct psychological warfare” on the students’ so GOOD BYE NAP TIME. Ever think that participating in strenuous activities could actually do your kid some good? Instead of crying to your lawyer every time something minor happens to your kid, maybe you should tell the fat fuck that they’re WRONG. The all powerful character building words of “wrong” “loser” and “do better” go a long way. Maybe if you took your faggoty bluetooth phone out for long enough to talk to your kid and tell him that he’s not always a winner, he wouldn’t be quite as large of a drooping vagina as you are. It’s your fault that school sports don’t have winners and losers anymore. EVERYONE wins, because if they don’t you’ll explosively defecate law suits all over the place accusing the school of being “exclusionary”.
Take care of your fucking kids because when you don’t, the burden lands on me; the taxpayer. Whose taxes do you think go to the schools to update their curriculum every time you cornhole it with your lawsuits? Mine.
And you, little miss “16 and Pregnant Cuntflap”. Where do you think this money you’re getting as welfare is coming from? Me. The taxpayer. Your impulsive immature actions put a strain on you, your child, and everyone else in your country.
Knock this shit off.