9-5

Don't get me wrong, usually I have a lot of fun writing these rants. But this week I just haven't been into it, which is dumb because this just happens to be the week when I've had a flood of ideas. See, I've been covering for a 9-5 guy at work this week and by the time I get home, all I want to do is jack off, take a shit, and go to bed. 9-5 is balls, I tell you!

Seriously, I've done the 9-5 thing before and every time it makes me completely understand why people go postal. Here's why.

-I hate going to bed when I'm not ready for bed. I'm not one of those people who can say, "Damn, I have to wake up at 4:30am. I better be in bed by 9 or 10." I go to bed when I'm tired or too god damned shitfaced to retain consciousness. If I force myself to go to bed, I lie awake until I'm actually tired and fall asleep. The voices in my head are seriously entertaining though.

-I hate waking up to repetitive electronic shrieking saying "Fuuuck...god damn it" over and over and over.

-I hate that it takes me 2 hours to commute to work, driving or taking public transit. Fucking horseshit. Either way, it's 2 hours of my life I'm wasting along with hundreds of other morons. Wow, I just had a brilliant idea. Just now. I'm going to donate my entire paycheque each week to any top-notch scientists who are working on teleportation. If they can get me from my house to my work instantly without all the fucking brake lights or subway transfers, they deserve some funding.

-I hate the fact that I'm actually required to shower and change my clothes every day. Are you serious?! What the fuck is this crap?!

-I hate dealing with bitter co-workers. I guess it's not entirely their fault, I mean, they work 9-5 and probably have been doing so much of their lives. I'm friggin' 23 and I hate everything about 9-5. How do these people feel at 55? I guess I can't blame them. But still. I just wish they were as optimistic about everything as I am.

-I hate being the most awesome person in the office. If any co-workers happen to be reading this, honestly, return to your offices. I don't need people constantly asking for a signed photo and I really have no use for the daily office parades you throw for me. Look, I'm really blown away by the fact that you made a golden chariot for me to ride in while a tall, white stallion pulls me down the hallway to my office. But the seat is a little too lumpy and one ass cheek always rides lower than the other and it feels weird. Like I might be curving my spine inappropriately. I mean, I'm flattered, but with my salary I can't afford a chiropractor.

I guess that's about it for now. I can't wait until next week when I don't have to work 9-5 and I can show up to work piss drunk every day. Unless...

Also, the answer to the title is four. Four...
As in "Four...the love of God, man, get yourself a fucking girlfriend already."



UPDATE: Literally less than a minute after posting this I discovered I beat Listman to a topic. I'm so fucking awesome!

Fashion Shit

OK, maybe I'm ignorant, I don't know. If you want to defend fashion shit, be my guest, but for now, here's my take on it.

One question: why does anyone pay attention to this meaningless garbage? Ah hell, here are more questions. Why is there a television channel devoted solely to fashion? Who is watching it? Can we find them a soul?

Why do people need to be told what to wear? Why do they need to be told what's in and what's out this fall season? Are these people insecure? Why do they need to obsess over fashion styles?

Christ, it's clothing. Put a fucking shirt on, go out, and find yourself a job. Fashion flair is not important. Have you seen some of the things these models come out wearing? Some of them come out dressed like peacocks or mermaids or some shit. Seriously, I never see anyone wearing this stuff besides the blank people on the runway. And if I ever did, "stylish and sexy" wouldn't be the first thing that comes to mind. It would be something more like "rich, snotty cunt."

And why do catalogues have massive sections with endless pictures of coats? They're all the same. You've seen them, the perfect smiling family of four wearing their winter coats, tossing fake snow at each other. That's not even reality. Reality would be a picture of the two kids rolling around in the slushy driveway fighting over a DS with half a snow-fort in the background. And dad would be inside watching syndicated episodes of Two and a Half Men while chain smoking Newports.

Back to coats though. You want to know what my coat looks like. Picture a brown, corduroy jacket from 1976 with half the ridges worn away. It has no buttons left and there is a big gash that has grown out of a small hole where one of the buttons used to be. This is pretty much my coat, only mine is way shittier. It truly is the jacket of a homeless man. But I stick by it because...right, it's a fucking coat. It keeps me warm. It's doing it's job. I'm not attempting to impress Her Majesty here.

Stop treating these fashion experts all over the media like they're walking capsules of class and sophistication. They're wasting their time with nonsense and someone needs to find them a real hobby fast.

Biker Gangs

This is some terror on two wheels, man. Now that the warm weather is here, the gangs have their bikes out and they're roaming the roads, pouncing on the weakest of the herd. And you'd better keep your nose up because their next victim could be YOU!

Scary shit I tell you. I don't trust biker gangs one bit. They're always smiling as I pass cautiously in my car. It makes me think they're up to something. I'm afraid that they know that a half a mile down the road a monstrous swarm of bikers will emerge from a hidden driveway and swoop in on me and kick my ass. Biker gangs are like wild hunting dogs. Lean, mean, and fierce as a motherfucker.

And they're armed to the teeth too. Oh yeah, you didn't know? Let me tell you, under each biker's faggoty yellow spandex suit lies an arsenal of no less than 12 deadly weapons. You'd never know it by looking at them, but they're there and the bikers DO use them. Semi-autos, crossbows, even some of these daunting things. Serious fucking business.

You see biker gangs a lot, but every so often you'll see a rider travelling alone. Or so you think. For every lone rider you see, I guarantee you there are at least 25 bikers covering him from the wings. You never see them though. They're like ninjas. You fuck with the lone rider and your ass is grass before you even realize what's going on.

Biker gangs, you come from the worst part of hell, and I'm onto you. I hide my family in the attic when I see you rolling slowly down my street like a swarm of locusts in protective headgear. You frighten children without remorse. Alas, there is not much we can do. We're the prey and you're the predator and you're simply too powerful for us to fight back. So for now the only thing we can really do is to not poke the bear.

I've said what I need to and I'm happy with it. Oh, and stop taking up so much space on the damn road. Honestly...trying to drive here.

Paid Programming on the Radio

Jesus Christ, is this shit boring or what? The younger folks may not even be aware of this, listening to their iPods or iPhones or whatever spooky device they get their music from. Help me out here, I'm so utterly out of touch! Anyway, this paid programming is not meant to sell anything like TV infomercials. It is usually a half hour segment, usually happening on weekend mornings, dedicated to discussing some of the most boring crap ever.

I can think of lots of paid programming shows that air regularly on all the AM stations I listen to (because I'm 23 and I'm that fucking cool). Out of all of them, I can't think of a single one I enjoy listening to. Let's see. There's a computer/software/virus protection show, a gardening show, a car show, a Christian show, a "woman's perspective" show, a travel show, a home improvement show... Shall I continue? Please say no. This is so god damn boring.

The worst though, the absolute worst show...the show that makes me want to set fire to myself to lessen the agony...is called the Buddha Lounge. This show is perfectly dreadful. It makes me fully understand why people hate hippies. By hippies, I don't mean the traditional counter-culture people, but the people that seem to get associated most with the term these days. I'm talking about these pansy-ass, pussy-ass, gentile, "alternative-lifestyle", yoga-practicing, organic-food-eating, meditating people. These are the people that make up the Buddha Lounge.

Whether they're talking about Feng Shui or spiritual vibes and energies, they make me want to puke because they always speak in sort of a hushed manner. It's hard to describe, but if you group together the words "yoga", "lifestyle", and "pansy" into sort of an idea to describe the way someone speaks, you're on the right track.

Enough Buddha Lounge bashing though. The point is that all of these shows are excruciating. They all have people phoning up and asking for advice. Who listens to this shit? I couldn't care less about other peoples' difficulties in the garden or the hardships they're running into with their plumbing. Snore. SNORE. SNORE!!!

Unfortunately these shows will continue though because the station makes money off of them. I just wish a cool one would finally come along. Like "The Suicide Hotline Show!" Or "The Kick Tim Geithner In the Balls Over and Over and Over Show!" Well, maybe that one's better for TV. I'd watch it though.

Husband/Wife Commercials

Sometimes it will be a male/female friendship, but mostly it is a husband and wife team. I'm sure you've heard this type of commercial even if you don't know it. Why? Because they are everywhere and they've become one of the most cliche forms of a two-person spot. The format is ALWAYS the same and I'll lay it out for you now.

-It starts out with a perfectly reasonable conversation between the husband and wife. Partway through the husband says something stupid or just flat out acts like a child. The level-headed wife sternly shoots him down and the commercial always ends with the husband sheepishly apologizing or realizing he's been acting like a dumbass.

-The man is always the animated moron. The wife is always the sane one. It's never the other way around. The man is always a peppy, younger guy. The wife always comes across as having just a hint of "complete bitch" in her personality. And yes, I realize that makes no sense at all. Just try to play along. It's almost gotten to the point where I'm starting to wonder if this is some big conspiracy being played out by feminists to make society believe that men are completely insane and women are always smarter. It may be time to shut off my radio and get out the proverbial tin foil hat once again...

-The guy always apologizes at the end. It's supposed to be for comedic effect apparently. To me it just seems like a Simpsons gag that has been done several times before even though I can't pinpoint a specific case. It was probably funny when the Simpsons did it. I mean I think it's great that a lot of today's humor is Simpson-esque. The Simpsons came up with a lot of brilliant stuff and I've often seen it rub off on the way people act in everyday life. Sometimes you look at a scenario and think, "If the Simpsons never existed, this situation would play out completely differently." I'm getting off topic though. This type of apologetic ending really seems Simpson-esque to me. But it seems like it was written by a Simpsons viewer who maybe thinks they should have been writing for the Simpsons, but in reality they're just not that creative.

Just change it up already. Make the woman the insane one for once. I'm not saying this because I think women are insane, just because this type of commercial needs some variety for heaven's sake. That's if this type of commercial even needs to continue at all. I wouldn't miss it.

I don't know...have the insane guy at the end stand up for what he believes in instead of always apologizing. "Screw you! Screw you all! I am who I am and I like it! You're not going to ruin my fun just because you're a tall, frothy mug of cold, frosty bitch!" And then have We Are the Champions kick in or something. Well...maybe this isn't such a good idea. It doesn't seem to have any relevance to anything. But at least it's more fun.

Please, commercial writers. You're often referred to as the creative department. So USE SOME DAMN CREATIVITY FOR A CHANGE! That is all.


*Special thanks to MG for supplying the commercials*

Ghost Ridin' Da Whip

Dayum! Is "dayum" still relevant? Regardless, ghost riding is yet another aspect of "urban culture" that I simply do not get.

You put your vehicle in cruise control at 5-7 km/h, exit your vehicle, walk beside it dancing like a complete prick (grabbing your crotch with one hand and swinging the other hand in the air like you just don't care), and somehow you're badass. How? It's not that hard to do. It's just that most people don't because they understand how completely pointless it is.

This would be so much easier to rip into if I actually understood why people think this is cool. But I just don't get it. It's not like you're showing off an amazing talent that few people have. You're engaging in a meaningless activity and labelling it as cool.

This behaviour is nothing new, may I remind you. People were ghost riding 100 years ago too. Back then it was referred to as "leading your horse." If you maybe wanted to have a conversation with someone without shouting down to them like they were a peasant, you'd get off your horse and walk beside him leading him by the reins. Of course, back in those days, if you fucked it up the horse wouldn't crash itself into a ditch.

Don't you just love that?! When these 17-year old ghost riders realize their car is on a collision course and they don't quite make it back in time. I love seeing them pay the price for their stupidity. It always ends with the car facing sideways, well off the road or crashed into a pole. Likewise, it always ends with the pea-brained driver doing one of these numbers only without the helmet. Needless to say, they probably should be wearing one at all times.

What can I say though? When you finally fuck up your car really good or get your license suspended for being completely irresponsible, enjoy the scooter!

Billy Bob Thornton

Billy Bob, you need some common sense. CBC Radio is generous enough to invite you and your band (which I'm guessing would go unheard of if you weren't already famous) to the station in order for you to promote an album. Something apparently got lodged up your ass during the interview and you got all prima donna on everyone. I say prima donna only because it seems like nobody has ever heard of the male counterpart, primo uomo. I'm a fucking nerd, I know.

Getting back on track. Thornton, you lost it because...oh yeah, the host of the show referred to your acting career. Aw, hail no. Not that. You might try using some logic sometime. People don't know who the Boxmasters are. People know who Billy Bob Thornton is. If the host introduced you without even mentioning your acting, people might start to believe there are two Billy Bob Thorntons or that the host did not mention your acting career because of his own ignorance of who you are. Neither is true. It makes perfect sense to mention that you've been in movies.

You then proceed to make the host's job a living nightmare. Interviewing someone of such fame is, I would imagine, at least a little intimidating even for the pros. This is when they're co-operative. Maybe the host doesn't care all that much for you but he has to come up with things to ask you and pretend to be interested because the boss told him so. When you pull this crap, you piss them off.

If it were my show I would politely tell you to "Get the Fuck Outta My Studio if you don't want to do this." The station does you a huge favour and you crap all over them. Get over yourself.

For someone who's a Boxmaster you sure seem to suck a lot of dick.

Cell Phones

I am a 65 year old man living in a 20-something year old's body. Some people say I'm living in the 60s. To some extent that's true, but I'm not a "Heeeeyy man...groovy." sort of person. I'm just kind of living in the past. I'm a young person who hates young people. Well, not all of them. Some of them are pretty sensible. But to get onto tonight's topic, some people can use cell phones responsibly, but (it seems) the majority of young people cannot.

PUT. DOWN. YOUR. FUCKING. CELL. PHONE.

I don't know how I can surpass that intensity on the internet. I feel like I'm still not getting the message across. Just put the fucking cell phone down for the love of God.

I can see how cell phones can be useful, don't get me wrong. Like when a jackass comes a-shooting up your American Citizenship class. Cell phone...pretty fucking helpful.

These empty-headed young people though...there are too many of them that flat out abuse their cell phones. Jesus Christ, every 10 minutes they're on their phones checking for messages or some shit. I really have to cut into the internet on cell phones. Why? Why? Again, unless you're being attacked by a crazed gunman and you have to get a final Rickroll in as you grasp for your final breaths, what is the fucking point? Wait until you get home to waste your life. I'm pretty sure Harry Truman never said, "God, I'm just going to lose my shit if I don't get on MSN like fucking IMMEDIATELY."

What is with this need to always be clicking phone buttons? People are so impatient. Everything has to be instant, real-time, high-speed, gimme gimme, now NOW! Fucking relax. People from 1910 are awesome. Why? Because they wrote letters with (HEART ATTACK WARNING!) a fucking pen and paper! And they expected that it would be a little while before they got a response to what they wrote. And when they got that response it was meaningful because they knew someone had taken the time out of their day to write them back. It wasn't some dim-witted 15 year old kid typing "LMAO" into his phone, standing next to the speaker at an Alexisonfire concert.

What am I trying to say? I get cell phones. I can see how they can be beneficial. But, goddamn, Louisiana trailer-park women with alcoholic husbands don't see the kind of abuse that kids give to their phones. Lay off the phone for five minutes and maybe you can look a few inches above your screen and finally see the face that goes with the voice that's been talking to you for all these years. Holy crap, that's me! I know, I totes sound different than I look!

I think I may have just discovered why nobody under the age of 50 pays any attention to me...

Obama Chia Pets

The Obama Chia Pet is in the news because it's being pulled from Wallgreens stores supposedly because it's racist. It is racist. I don't see how anyone can think otherwise. This hate-toy should not only be pulled from shelves, it should be straight up outlawed. What kind of person thinks this is harmless?

Today I waited on hold for my lawyer trying to see if I have a case against McDonalds because I ate their food and I got fat. As I waited, I sent several angry letters to my MP urging him to ban Harry Potter books. They encourage children to practice witchcraft and if you can't see that, you're an idiot. I had Fox News on in the background and I almost missed the Obama Chia Pet story, being so engrossed in my important affairs.

But when I saw Obama's orange head on my TV with green shrubbery coming from the scalp, I was just livid. This is unacceptable. Am I supposed to just laugh this off? How dare you speak condescendingly to me when I take outrage to the fact that Chia has made a Pet that reflects Obama's and millions of other black peoples' natural hair type.

This is racism at it's finest. If I had made an Obama Chia Pet I would at least have the common courtesy to give him a mohawk and not draw attention to his actual hairstyle: short and wiry. This is just plain racist and it's baloney.

What kind of message does this send to my kids? That it's perfectly okay to create likenesses of the U.S. President and be completely realistic about it? I think not. I will not have my children running around in a world of truth. If they aren't outraged, they aren't paying attention.

I just thank God I have a lot of time on my hands or nobody would ever notice this unbelievably hateful toy. Thank God there are people like me who bring things like this to everyone else's attention. I'm dumbfounded by the number of people that just don't care though. They should be thanking me and kissing my feet. I'm doing God's work and most people tell me to shut up. I hate ignorant people.

Sorry I have to scram so soon, but I have an anti-homosexuality rally I simply must be at. You're welcome.

Flat-brimmed Hats

If Bizarro World actually does exist, I'm quite sure I've unknowingly ventured into it at some point in my life. The tip off would have to be flat-brimmed baseball caps and if they never came to be, I'd never have known.

Let me tell you something. When I was a kid, if you had the balls to pull this crap off, your ass would be kicked before second period was through. Flat-brimmed caps were the fashion statement that announced to your peers, "Look at me! I'm a complete square! Fresh meat, right here!"

When I was a kid, this was your baseball cap and often times it looked even worse. If you weren't rocking a torn-up, sweat-stained, dirty Leafs cap with a curve that looked that the top of a coffee mug, you weren't cool.

But time passed and urban/hip hop culture prevailed and here we are in an era where this shit is the bee's knees. When I was 10, black kids didn't even wear hats. Then again, I live in the whitest town in Canada. But now every unenlightened Soulja Boy wannabe is walking around with these fashion atrocities on their heads. I mean, if flat-brimmed hats are an undisputed absolute necessity in our stupid world, give 'em to the black kids. They still look ridiculous wearing them, but they pull it off a thousand times better than any white kid. White kids wearing flat-brimmed hats are a sure sign that inbreeding is running rampant in our society. I can think of no other reason for this shit.

I must be getting older. When I was a teenager, I didn't understand teenagers. At this point I understand them even less. I understand that they do these things to be cool and fashionable, but I don't understand WHY people find these things cool. Why is no curve in your hat cool? Why are spotless, white shoes cool? Why are grills cool? Grills, holy fuck. If it takes you five minutes for you to explain to me why flat-brimmed hats are fashionable, it's going to take you about 9 days to get grills through my head.

This is actually starting to make my head spin so I'm just going to go ahead and blame Soulja Boy. I'm lazy and I need a scapegoat. So screw you, Soulja Boy, you're the reason our kids are so fucking goofy looking. While I'm at it, I'll blame the economy on you too, for no particular reason. I'm sick of thinking of that as well so I might as well kill two birds with one stone.

Sports "Experts"

I was downtown riding the subway last night minding my own business, when all of a sudden the doors slide open and I realize immediately that a hockey game has just ended at the Air Canada Centre. Hoards of loud, drunken, semi-intelligent, 20-something alpha-males pile on board and my quiet night vanishes.

"Here we go again," I thought, "give it about 7 seconds before any hint of intellectual conversation that might have been happening on this train is drowned out by this mob of hockey know-it-alls." Was I correct, you ask? Come on now, of course I was! I'm never wrong.

I just don't understand the appeal of sports talk. Some people can go on and on and on forever talking about something as trivial as a game. I'm looking in your direction, TSN. How can they do this and why would they want to? My God, just enjoy the game and move on with your life. I don't need hours of post-game commentary. Trust me, you're not doing me any favours by rattling off a bunch of scores and player names and sports jargon as I sit there gaping at you, trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about. It's just not important, Brock, it's just not important.

Remember, I'm talking about post-game here. I haven't touched on these walking sports encyclopedias that won't keep their comments to themselves during the game. God, if you do exist, I'm sorry I ever doubted your existence, yada, yada, but I beg you to make these people shut...the fuck...UP! Every 8 seconds, for Pete's sake, they've got to chime in with some meaningless piece of information about a random player.

And I think deep down they know it's meaningless. But they spout off these short bits of trivia anyway because they think other people will hear them and think, "Boy, this guy really knows his stuff." It's a status thing, nothing more. They won't admit it, but I think deep down all they want is for their dumb buddies to get on the phone with ESPN and rave. "Have you heard of my buddy? He really knows a lot about football. He does critiques of different plays and posts them on Youtube. They get ranked pretty high every time. He's really good. Can I give you his Youtube address?...Hello?...Hello?"

Just go home. You're not impressing anyone. Put the beer mug down, hang up the Cheeto-stained jersey, and get a damn job, Brock.

Guitar Hero

This is it, folks. Guitar Hero is never going to end. It started with Aerosmith and then Metallica. There are rumours of a Van Halen game and a Hendrix game. I think you can see where this is going. They're just going to keep making Guitar Hero games for every guitarist who ever lived. Guitar Hero: Clapton, Guitar Hero: Zeppelin, I'm pretty sure you'll see them eventually.

When I'm 70 years old I'll still be hearing morons shitting a brick over the new Guitar Hero. It's never going to end. Well, not never. It'll end sometime, but not in the near future. They'll run out of good bands eventually and I hope when that happens they'll call it in. The minute I hear of Guitar Hero: Jonas Brothers I'm going to get my knife.

Why do idiots think they're God's gift to the world when they can finally play Dragonforce? It's stupid. It shouldn't even be called Guitar Hero. It should be called Faggoty Plastic Toy Hero. Morons post videos on Youtube of their friend playing "Through the Fire and Flames" and get all worked up about it. It's always some wiry teenage fucker wearing a baseball cap over his eyes and the whole video is just him standing there going click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click-click. He doesn't whoop or cheer when he finishes the song, no, he puts on his "I'm such a badass" attitude. Congratulations. You are now adequate at manipulating a children's toy. I bow down to you, sir.

I'm not going to waste my time with paragraphs telling these people to pick up a real instrument and do something useful. It's been done, just like complaining about Guitar Hero. But I strongly suggest that these people re-evaluate their hobbies.

Seriously, enough Guitar Hero. Just give it a rest. This also goes for Rock Band, or as I like to call it, Faggots Bashing Plastic and Rubber Rhythmically.

Washing the Dishes

Man, I really have to start doing my Friday entries earlier in the day. I've often skipped Fridays because it comes down to crunch time and I just want to get the fuck to the bar. So here's an entry that I "put a lot of effort into."

Washing the dishes. It's not that I have a problem with having clean dishes. It's not like it's torture either. There are just a bunch of little things about doing the dishes that make me wish I didn't have to do them.

1)I don't have time. I'm a very busy person. I simply don't have enough time in my schedule between procrastinating and being completely unproductive to squeeze in something like washing the dishes.

2)When you have long curly hair, looking down is a bit of a chore. Hair sticks to other hair and becomes a mess in front of your face. When you keep brushing it away with soapy, wet hands, pretty soon you look like you've been trying to shampoo only the hair that outlines your face.

3)I'm kind of like a cat. I really don't like to get wet I don't have to. I feel entirely different when it comes to getting girls wet, however.

4)I live with people who eat some disgusting things from time to time. It's hard not to at least cringe when you pick up a plate that looks as though somebody took a beer shit directly on top of it.

5)The towel gets too damn wet before I'm finished drying. I don't want to bust out a new towel with 4 dishes left to dry, but on the other hand, I don't want to feel like I'm wiping them down like a donut shop employee wipes down a table.

Seriously, I hope someday I have a robot that can do the dishes for me. Someone should work on that. A robot that does peoples' dishes. Imagine if you never had to never had to wash dishes again! It would all be done by machine.

My god, what the future holds for us, folks...

Consensual Living

Holy jumpin' shitballs, I want to puke.

Consensual living has been a hot topic in Toronto today. I was not aware of it until today and a part of me wishes I could go back in time one day and warn myself, "For the love of God, man, do not absorb the media in any way tomorrow. I won't tell you why, but it's for your own good."

Now, if you don't know, consensual living is a really, really dumb parenting technique that focuses on negotiating with your child instead of setting rules. Here's an example from a Globe and Mail article from today:

Recently, the principles of consensual living have helped her cope with her son's hitting stage, she says.

When Kiernen strikes another child, Ms. Keller asks him what he's feeling and whether he'd like to express his anger or frustration in another way, such as using words or hitting a pillow.

She tells him it's not okay to hit others, but she and her husband, Josh, do not force Kiernen to say he's sorry. "If he's going to apologize, we want it to be authentic," Ms. Keller says.

Are you getting this? Jesus, grow up and learn some responsible parenting, you hippie. These fucking parents' judgements are so clouded over. For some reason they think the best approach to raising their precious little snowflakes* is to be their friend and their equal. Bullocks! You are a parent. It is your job to have authority over your children and set guidelines that must be followed in order for them to grow up with a sense of reality and to be decent people.

Wait until these kids actually grow up and have to face the real world. The world where rules exist and there are things that won't be negotiable. Where everything is not handed to them just because they want it. If you keep pampering them like this, they're going to have a hard time later in life. Discipline your kids. When they grow up and move out, then they can make the rules.

This is just so ridiculous they way parents get pansier with each generation. Back in the day if you did something wrong your father took off his belt and gave you a few good whoops. Back in the day parents spanked their children. Then we started becoming complete pussies and decided it was cruel and spanking went bye-bye. We started punishing kids with "time out." That oughta teach 'em. Make them stand in the corner for 10 minutes.

Wait a second. No...time out is a bad thing. The child isn't getting the attention they need and it might cause them to rebel. Let's not punish the child. Let's talk to the child about their feelings and get them to open up to us. That's surely the best and most healthy thing to do in our parent-child relationship. After all we're equals. Let's compromise without being too forceful. Being forceful is not good for the child's behaviour and could damage the bond we share.

Bull-shit, I say. When I acted out as a child, my father would pick me up and heave me head-first right through my second-story bedroom window. As I picked the shards of glass from my face I would say to myself, "Christ, I ain't doing that shit any more." And of course the old man would hear me and give me a few jabs to the teeth for swearing.

There was a bit of pain and a few broken windows in my childhood. But you know...I never committed the same crime twice.

*Thank you, Mike Stafford.

Announcement: Get the Fuck Outta My Office now on Twitter

I'll have a real post later on today, but I thought I'd mention this separately.

Fuck it. Bob Dylan was right. "You better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone, for the times they are a-changing." If I keep saying no to advances in technology, pretty soon I'll be a guy who, by today's standards, still uses a rotary phone.

Go ahead, get it over with, say your "Ha!" But Get the Fuck Outta My Office is now on Twitter. Mostly because I have a shit ton of things I'd like to address on my list but they just don't warrant a full posting. As much as I don't like them, there simply isn't enough to write about to make it a full entry without making it sound contrived.

So check out the list on Twitter and who knows, there could be multiple tweets per day on different mini-subjects.

Follow me, yo! www.twitter.com/getthefuckouttamyoffice

-Get the Fuck Outta My Office