Your Kid is Fat

I recently heard about a lady in California that is suing McDonald’s over the fast food company’s use of toys in Happy Meals to lure children into eating their food.  Monet Parham, the 41-year-old mother of two small children filed the lawsuit in a San Francisco court.  Parham states, “We have to say no to our kids so many times and McDonald’s makes that so much harder to do.  I object to the fact that McDonald’s is getting into my kids’ heads without my permission and actually changing what my kids want to eat.”

Is this bitch fucking serious?

Parham is complaining because McDonald’s is getting into her kids’ heads without permission but she says nothing about letting it happen.  Maybe she should sue her own fat ass for letting her two young kids get everything they want.  Why is it when something happens to a child, (i.e., getting in trouble at school, getting fat) everyone else is to blame but the parties that should be held the most accountable.  I’m assuming Parham’s children are not old enough to drive or make educated decisions.  So, why is McDonald’s to blame for Monet Parham’s lack of parenting skills?  Should McDonald’s also be to blame for her lack of keeping a husband?  And, what is Parham’s excuse for being cow?  Does she blame her lack of assistance in raising two uncontrollable fat little hell raisers at home forcing her to eat McDonald’s just because that’s all her kids want to eat, as her reason for being huge?

These kids don't seem too concerned about toys

Parents blaming everyone else is part of the backwards society in which we now live.  I’m not a parent myself, but I can’t imagine it’s difficult to tell a kid that he/she can’t have McDonald’s and if he/she keeps asking about it they will be punished.  Parham needs to stop being a lazy bitch and cook something.  If toys are such a big part of your children’s meal then you should hide a couple of marbles in their salad.

As someone who works in education I’m aware that there are parents out there that are good, and they teach their children the right things.  But there are also parents out there that never feel their children are to blame.  These are the parents that are far more detrimental to their children’s health than a toy in a fucking Happy Meal.

 

“Do You Believe in Now?” Nope, not really.

 

We are fast approaching the best time of year for sports fans.  In the next few weeks it will be the official start of football season, both college and professional.  Not to mention there are baseball pennant races, the start of NHL and NBA training camps, and for you equestrian fans out there, the WNBA playoffs.  Let me put this time of year in perspective.  It’s like if soft porn movies on HBO, Cinemax, and Showtime had their own “Sweeps Week” only the “week” is more like several months with the culmination being the Super Bowl in early February.

Of course, it all centers around football.  Football has become the national pastime of this country.  It’s a sport that is followed immensely in every part of the United States.  The only other sport that can say that is America’s former pastime, baseball.  Everywhere you go, every city, town, village, or abortion clinic,

Former Lions fan

a football fan can be found.  And, the state of Michigan is no different.  Michigan has some of the most passionate and loyal football fans anywhere.  From the high school to college to professional levels, football is big in this part of the world.

And nobody knows this better than the Detroit Lions.

If playing on the loyalty and gullibility (I don’t even know if that is a word) of professional football fans could win Super Bowls, the Detroit Lions would be the New York Yankees of the NFL.  Lions fans are some of the most loyal in sports.  Sure, you can talk about Red Sox or Cubs fans.  But fans of those teams can celebrate the fact they have either won a championship recently or in the case of Cubs fans, just root for the White Sox. 

The same cannot be said with Lions fans who haven’t celebrated a championship in 50 years, along with only one playoff victory in that time.  And, the franchise knows it.

It isn’t as simple as the fans boycotting the team.  Ford Field could be empty for every Lions game this year and the Lions would still turn a profit thanks to NFL profit sharing.  So, the Lions have their new brilliant marketing campaign for the 2008 season: “Do You Believe In Now?”  I’m gonna have to say no.  And really, why should anybody else? 

Just like the Lions

Being a Lions fan is like dating a chick from Bridgeport, she sucks just good enough to keep her around, but becomes a big disappointment as you wait around for her to finally be pretty.

I’m tired of all the bullshit that comes with this organization.  They draft horribly with the exception of  less than an handful of potential great players (like Calvin Johnson and…..um…..well, I’m sure there are others).  They coach horribly (if I hear Rod Marinelli talk about having good character guys one more time only to have them get arrested for non-good character reasons, I’m gonna scalp somebody).  The General Manager is a complete fuckhead.  And, the owner only typically shows up to one game a year.

All that said, the Lions have had a good start to the pre-season which means the bandwagon is filling up quickly.  Not me baby, my Bridgeport girlfriend won’t fit.

Go Lions anyway!!

Leavin’ on a Jet Plane

I love to fly, I really do.  I also like to sit in the window seat so I can pretend I’m an angel, floating through the clouds.  Usually, I don’t like sitting next to or talking to people.  But, as I waited to board my flight from Detroit to Tampa, I couldn’t help but notice that there were an unusual amount of hotties waiting for the same flight.  I figured my chances were good that I would get lucky and actually enjoy the conversation of a fellow passenger that was better looking than any passenger with whom I had previously traveled.  I would look at one lady and wonder what her name was and that maybe I’d soon find out.  Or, I’d look at another fine woman, and wonder if she smelled like cocoa butter.

I wonder if she smelled like cocoa butter?

Yup, I was more excited than usual for a two and a half hour flight.

I took this pic of the hottie sitting across from me in the terminal.

Unfortunately, as the hotties started to board, some passed by and others stopped short to take another seat.  Then, my female travelling companion finally arrived, AND she was European.  Jackpot, right?  Wrong.  This lady hasn’t been hot since the Allies liberated her village during World War II.  Then, the unoccupied middle seat soon became occupied with a Mexican businessman.  Great! This once promising adventure was turning into a slow boat to hell.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the old lady and the Mexican switched seats – for what reason I’m not quite sure – with the old lady’s daughter and five-year-old son.  And, of course the kid sat next to me, and, of course he was wearing a Pittsburgh Penguins hat.  I don’t care how old that kid is, he should know what fucking airport he is at.  Anyway, the kid got hyper and started moving around in his seat.  Then, he bumped me…then he bumped me again…then again.  He kept squirming despite his mother’s attempts to strap him in his seat.  Finally, ten minutes into the flight, the kid taps me on the shoulder and asks, “can I sit near the window?”  I looked at this kid like he was fucking nuts.  After a brief stare-down, I replied with a question of my own. “Kid, we’re on the wing, what are you going to look at?”  The kid gave me that look of puzzled disappointment young children often get when they are denied something after being used to getting their way on a regular basis.   He was quiet the rest of the way.

The little bastard that sat next to me on the plane

So, if there is a lesson to be learned by the experience it was this: I hate five-year-olds.

You’re on welfare…I’m in a hurry

Sometimes, I’m amazed at just how different Florida is from Michigan.  For instance, the weather is better, the bars are better, the food is better, and the women have smaller asses.  But some things are similar, namely people on welfare and their illegal use of the express lane at the grocery store.

Look, I’m not criticizing people on welfare, everyone has to do what they can to get themselves and their families through tough economic times.  I’d love to get food stamps, I get hungry a lot.

But for fuck-sake, why is it every time I go to the store to buy a couple of items, there is always a food-stamper with more than the required 10 items in the express lane?  And they always have some screaming kids that are loaded up on candy.  This has happened at least twice since I have been in Florida.  It happened many more times when I lived back in Michigan.  But my latest experience really pissed me off.

All I wanted to buy were two birthday cards and some sun block.  I was in a hurry because I wanted to make it back to my apartment to watch the Wings game.  But Nooooooooo.  I had to wait for fatty fatty 2×4 to finish paying for her 15 boxes of Macaroni and Cheese, 4 cartons of ice cream, 5 cases of Mountain Dew and 1 box of maxi pads.  That’s 25 items in a 10 item maximum express lane.   That, by grocery law, is illegal.  Maybe the reason she is on welfare is because she can’t count.

I shouldn’t just jump on food-stampers for this egregious violation of grocery law, there are regular people just as guilty.  But food-stampers never use other lines, no matter how many items they have and that is just wrong.

Food Network Porn

Food Network has often been called “Porn for Fat People”. That may be true, I mean, fat people do love food. But what many don’t know is that Food Network could also be considered porn for regular sized people too. The best example may just be the best show on TV, period. Everyday Italian, is a show by Italian chefette and sexual dynamo, Gaida De Laurentiis. Gaida is a sexy little tart that always seem to cook up something special in my bathing suit area. See, Everyday Italian is like soft porn on basic cable. The best part is the show includes two of my favorite things, food and tits.

It is virtually impossible to not stare at Gaida’s tits while watching this show. I’m sorry, that’s tasteless. I should stick with a more themed appropriate term….melones. But it’s not just Gaida’s physically pleasing looks that satisfies my pallet. It’s the sensual way she prepares then taste tests the food. And just when things couldn’t get any hotter, porn music cues in the background just when she is about to take a bite. “Mmmmm,” she often moans as she tastes her latest creation. “I just love how those little tomatoes explode in your mouth. Then she continues with, “This tastes just so creamy as it goes down the back of your throat.” All the while, porn music is playing in the back ground.

If you think I’m exaggerating, I’m not. This is what happens in every episode. The best part is, HAB has a big flat screen HDTV. So, it’s almost like Gaida is giving you a lap dance while getting sexual with her pasta. Since I’ve started watching Everyday Italian, Gaida has replaced Delta Burke on my list of ultimate dream women.

Florida: Finding Paradise In America’s Penis

At the end of January, at around 4:30 in the morning, I decided to pack up my shit and move to St. Petersburg, Florida. I visited HAB in Florida last October and decided it was a happening place and the best option for starting a career. Not that I was discouraged by Michigan’s now 7.1% unemployment rate and record snowfall. Did I ever question why I was taking such a big risk? Of course. I had just sold most of my belongings and was leaving my family and friends. I knew I was taking a risk until the sun came up and I looked around and realized I was halfway through Ohio. Nothing like a drive through Ohio to make you realize your dreams.

Now, I didn’t just pack up and leave without doing a little research about where I was going. I spoke with HAB daily so I could get reassurance that it was still warm in Florida. He assured me that it was still warm and that the women of the greater Tampa Bay area were very pretty, even prettier than the ladies in the greater Flint area. How could I resist warm weather and hot ass? I can’t, so I left.

Now, there is nothing wrong with being content. Many people are with their lives. But I wasn’t. Working over 50 hours a week at two part time jobs I couldn’t build a career from just wasn’t working. Whenever I find myself questioning my decision, which is almost never, I just look outside at the palm trees and realize I’m wearing shorts in winter. There were less than a handful of things that could have kept me from leaving, but those factors were almost mathematical impossibilities. Most of the people down here are not actually from here. Most are from the Midwest or Northeast and are here for the same reason, to find something better than where they came from. It’s kind of like the Old West.

Even though it’s been frustrating finding a job that isn’t part-time retail, things don’t seem so bad anymore. Some risks are worth taking.

Doughnut Warrior

For a while now, I’ve been trying to exercise more and eat less unhealthy food.  Anyone who has seriously tried to diet knows it’s easier said than done.  I’ve had to cut many things out of my regular unhealthy diet that I otherwise would eat on a regular basis.  Items like Pop Tarts and cheddar cheese have become mere delicacies, food that I only eat at Superbowl parties or at Harris’s parents’ house.  But, there is one food that I consider to be my heroin, doughnuts.  I fucking love doughnuts.  Glazed, cream filled, powdered, cinnamon, and even those little doughnut holes.  When I attended Lake Superior State University, my roommates and I would drive over to Canada on a Saturday afternoon and visit the nearest Tim Horton’s (at the time they were only in Canada, like Mike’s Hard Lemonade and slavery).  When at Tim Horton’s, I would order a half dozen doughnuts and try to eat them all by the time we got to U.S. customs.  Why am I telling you about my love of doughnuts?  Just the other day, I had a Vietnam veteran-like flashback and I would like to share my tale.

When motivated, I like to go for a nice 5-mile jog at the Clio Bike Trail near my apartment.  I take a lot of pride in being able to get out and exercise, knowing that I’m doing something good for myself for a change.  However, when my pride is tested, bad things can happen, very bad things.  When I approached the Clio Park, there was the usual mix of people.  Parents watched their children play on the swing sets, couples rode bicycles, and the skateboard park was filled with stoned little skaters.  While jogging (I mean walking because I’m really out of shape) I encountered two kids who looked to be about 15.  I walked by and one of them decided he wanted to have a harmless conversation with me.  It was during the short conversation that the situation turned from harmless to harmful for the little bastard.

“Hey man, nice day for a walk,” the kid said to me sounding like Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High.  I responded with a simple “Yeah”.  “Good day to be out walking.” he says to me.  I respond with a “Yup, sure is”.  “Have a good one, man,” the kid says.  “You too,” I reply.  It was at that moment that the conversation turned serious.  As I’m walking away the kid says, “Lay off those doughnuts, dude.”  What?!  What?!  Did that little crackhead tell me to “lay off the doughnuts”?  I did a complete 180 and got in the kid’s face.  “What did you just fucking say to me?”  I asked.  “I said…” he tried to reply but it was too late, I had already smashed his face into the wall he was leaning against.  His friend tried to help but I grabbed him by the throat, ripped out his nose ring, and threw him into the creek that winds along the trail.

“Don’t you ever tell me to lay off the doughnuts, you little bitch,” I yelled at the kid as I picked him up and slammed him against the wall.  “You don’t know a goddamn thing about doughnuts.  You don’t know a goddamn thing about me!” I yelled.  By this time, the police had shown up as I was about to deliver the final blow.  I threw the kid’s bike into the creek and watched as it sank all three feet to the depths below.  The cops grabbed the kid and threw him to the ground and when he started crying they arrested him for being a bitch.

I hope I never have to experience another situation like that again.  Doughnuts are no joking matter.  It has taken years to get over my addiction to doughnuts, and I am very proud of myself.  Now, I only enjoy doughnuts at fancy parties or when I have been drinking heavily.  But, I will defend my love of doughnuts until the day I die.

Dwyane Wade is a Vagina

What is the definition of a superhero? Webster’s defines the word superhero as, “Someone who can fly and shoot fire from his or her eyeballs.” Well, I believe there is a new definition of “superhero,” Miami Heat star Dwyane Wade. For those that do not know who Dwyane Wade is, he is former college standout at the University of Marquette and could have potentially been a Detroit Piston. Don’t get me wrong, I wish Wade played for Detroit, but the Pistons selected Darko Milicic with the 2nd overall pick in the 2003 NBA draft instead of Wade.

Despite how great Wade is (many NBA “experts” call him the new face of the league) he is actually a fucking pussy. Many consider Wade to be some kind of warrior because of how “fearless” he plays. If you have ever seen him play, then you have seen how good he is at flopping around and getting fouls by running into people then falling down. A couple years ago, there was a commercial showing Wade, at different periods of his basketball career (i.e. high school, college, NBA) getting “knocked down” only to get back up again, every time. Wade almost seems indestructible.

So, why would I call Wade a pussy? Well, recently when the Heat played the Houston Rockets, Wade tried to block a shot and ended up dislocating his shoulder. When Wade was helped back to the bench, he could be seen crying in pain as the team doctor and trainers came to his aide. Don’t get me wrong, I know a shoulder dislocation has got to be extremely painful; I had a slight separation of my shoulder and that hurt like a bitch (of course, it was from something much cooler than blocking a shot in a regular season NBA game; mine was from reaching to a high shelf after sleeping on it wrong when I worked at the fudge factory). But what I saw next was more disgusting than watching the replay of Wade’s dislocation. A wheelchair was brought out to carry Wade to the locker room. The trainers covered Wade in towels, apparently because he was cold, and then wheeled him to the locker room.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The T.V. announcers kept saying, “The refs need to stop this game until they can get Wade to the locker room. Why aren’t the refs stopping the game?” Are you fucking serious? Any other athlete in any other sport would have just walked to the locker room, but Wade has to be covered in towels and pushed in a wheelchair. He dislocated his SHOULDER! Not his legs. And the next thing I heard from the announcers was about how Wade is such a warrior that showed such incredible courage. They only thing that prevented me from throwing up was the talk that Wade might miss the rest of the season and the playoffs if he has surgery. But no, Wade is a "superhero" remember?

So why don’t you make like a tree, and get outta here.

Wade has decided to rehab so he can be back for the playoffs. It is a risky decision because if he comes back and further injures his shoulder, it could end his career. But surgery was never really an option Wade considered seriously. His attempt to come back only enhances the superhero-like status the experts and the NBA want him to have. Heat coach Pat Riley said, “There was no way Wade was having surgery, this is his team, that’s just the kind of guy he is.” Fuck you Riley! To quote a line from Back to the Future , “Whooo Dad, time to change that oil.”

If you have seen Pat Riley and Back to the Future, you know what I’m referring to.

Anyway, I’m fucking sick and tired of people thinking Wade is such an ultimate warrior and the ultimate team leader. If you want the real definition of a “superhero” athlete, look at Steve Yzerman. Yzerman had his knee completely re-aligned and never needed a fucking wheelchair. Dwyane Wade is not a “superhero”; he fits the description of a pussy, or, at best, a sandy vagina.

 

Holiday Time at the Birch Run Mall

Big Baby Jesus is the reason for the season.

Ahhhh, the holidays. The holidays are a time to spend with family, friends, and other loved ones. It is a time to celebrate and reflect upon the end of one year and the optimistic beginning of another, as well as that baby Jesus kid. But have you ever wondered what truly makes the holiday season so special? Unless you work at the Birch Run Mall or any other retail business, you have no fucking clue. For me, the holiday season begins at a time called “Deer Widow’s Weekend”. This glorious occasion takes place the weekend before the first day of rifle hunting season in Michigan. “Deer Widow’s Weekend,” or as I like to call it “Bitch Fest ’06″, is like being forced to watch a Tracey Gold marathon on Lifetime in a room full of feminist lesbians.

For hours, I am forced to listen to ungrateful hosebags bitch about why I can’t give them a special deal if they buy two $7 watches. Here’s a deal: how about if you buy two $7 watches, I won’t kick you in the box. The worst is when I have a woman who comes in my store and spends an hour trying on t-shirts and jeans. After she makes up her primitive mind, she pays for her new wardrobe and leaves, only to return two hours later and return the items with the excuse “I just don’t think they’ll fit”. You just don’t think they’ll fit ? What the fuck were you doing in the fitting room?

Another favorite of mine during the holiday season are the people that shop with their best friend/significant other. There is no better way to have a sale fucked up then by having the friend of a customer show up and explain why they don’t like the choice their friend is making. During “Bitch Fest ’06,” I had a lady sold on a $200 Armani watch, (I must admit, the watch was pretty fucking sweet) to the point where she had her credit card out and ready to purchase. Just then, her best friend showed up and said, “Ewww, that watch just looks tacky, I don’t like the orange second hand”. Well, thank you very fucking much, bitch! Things were going great until that cooze showed up, now her friend just wants to “think about it”. This second opinion bullshit is only common in two types of people: the woman who has her friend fightsher battles, and Canadians.

Pretty sweet, huh? It’s digital AND gold!

Fucking Canadians. (if you have read some of my previous articles then you had to know I would get to them eventually) As if they weren’t bad enough, they get worse during the holiday season. You see, Canadians don’t come to celebrate “Deer Widow’s” because they have gun control. Canadians don’t have guns because they used disease infested blankets to eliminate their “Indian problem”. During the holidays, Canadians come to the mall because our goods are much cheaper and we don’t have the large tax burden that plagues our northern neighbor. When Canadians come into my store, they want everyone to know where they come from, whether it be a pin with a Canadian flag or just a shitty Canadian “I’m slightly better than you because I’m slightly further North” attitude. My favorite Canadians are the ones who arrive at the checkout counter and state, “Does your store have any additional discounts?” To which I respond with, “No.” To which they respond with, “Well, I’m Canadian so I just though I’d ask.”

Apparently in Canada , if you ask that question, the store just gives you stuff. I asked that when I went to (the nastiest strip club ever) the Dime and came home with two free lap dances, a dozen Krispy Cremes, and a pint of moose milk.

I got her for a loonie.

Even though Canadians buy a lot from my store, they also like to return a lot too. The reason they give is usually that they just don’t need what they just purchased. When in reality, they returned the item because they will have to pay taxes on it when they cross the border. The money they will lose in taxes means they can’t afford to pay the government mandated “.one toonie a month for possession of an Eskimo slave.”

I could go on and on about working at the mall during the holiday season, but I just don’t have the time to pay homage to every type of customer (including Asians, Arabs and the occasional old man that comes into the store with his 19 year old “boy slave”). So, when you’re sitting around the fireplace on Christmas quietly bitching about the ugly ass watch you received as a gift, just remember: you can always return it, you fucking prick.

 

What You Talkin’ Bout?

I know, I haven’t written anything for this site in a while. My apologies, but I’ve been suffering from writers block, laziness, and student teaching. Actually, I’ve developed good ideas for articles but when I start typing, it just doesn’t sound good anymore. Of course, my goal as a member of this site is to keep the masses entertained. Well, I’m back fuckers lets get to it.

 

As I stated, I’m doing my student teaching and one thing has become clear; times have definitely changed. I’m actually teaching in my hometown so I have a reference as to what life in school was like 10 years ago. Students today have quite the attitude I must say, an attitude that comes with it an entirely new vernacular. The new terminology that is thrown around in the hallways and classrooms has changed in the last decade. So, for this article, I’d like to introduce everyone to the terms and phrases I hear on a regular basis.

Rough or Rougher -This is a term used to describe something that is difficult. It can now be used as a reactionary term to something the students do not want to do because it requires work.

 

EX: “Mr. Tripp! What is this? A worksheet? Man, this is rough !” Or the term could be used like this: “Man, Mr. Tripp, that test was a real rougher .”

Key -The term “key” has two different meanings depending on which class I am teaching. “Key” can either mean something that is either essential or awesome and cool. 10 years ago, we either used “sweet” or “tits”.

Above: the average high school kids at prom in 1996. Below: the average high school kids in 2006

EX: “Mr. Tripp, that movie about the Constitution was so key .” Or: “Mr. Tripp, watching the movie Almost Heroes with Chris Farley is key to understanding Lewis and Clark.”

Bad Move -The term “bad move” is used by one student when he/she explains to another that they just fucked up.

 

EX: Andrew: “Mr. Tripp, you look like a fish from Spongebob Squarepants .”

Kevin: “Awwww shit, bad move Andrew, bad move .”

There you go kid -This is a phrase a student uses when they offer praise to another person.

 

EX: Student: “Mr. Tripp, did you get a lot of girls in high school?”

Mr. Tripp: “You know I did”

Student: ” There you go kid !”

You just got dominated or I dominated you or it -This phrase can be used for a variety of circumstances. For instance, when a student did well on a test or when they just ripped on another student and made them look stupid in front of the class; much like the movie You Got Served .

 

EX: “Mr. Tripp, I just dominated that test.” Or: “Mr. Tripp, I went hunting last weekend and you should have seen how I dominated, like, three pheasants .” Sometimes, I have heard the phrase used like this: “Awwww shit, Mr. Tripp called you fat, you just got dominated .”

So, for anyone preparing to enter the field of teaching, or any other profession that involves working with teenagers; these are terms and phrases you might hear. Feel free to use this article as a guide.