Fatherhood has yet to provide me with any kind of spiritual awakening. After speaking to the other expectant fathers in my various babying classes, I was expecting angels to descend from heaven and play a harp rendition of "MMMBop" while I recognized the kinship of all living things when my son was born. Instead, I was relieved that the boy arrived with no serious health/birth defects and his mother did not go all 19th Century on me and bleed to death during childbirth and leave me and the boy to resent our stations in life and grow bitter over the years while tending to the family farm. It is cool to have an entire life dependent on you. It is also scary as hell. I think the true measure of whether or not I was a successful parent will come when it is time for me to go into a nursing home. If I did well? The boy will come visit me with his family on a semi-regular basis and take me out for a steak on occasion while tolerating my rants at the waitress for being too slow with the side order of gravy. If I did not do well? I will suffer in a multi-level town house in Thornton and eat Alpo out of the can and call my son "a fucking pussy" when he makes his annual call to wish me a happy birthday. Right now the boy is much like a zombie army; singularly focused on food, growing at an exponential rate and adverse to any kind of a rest. I am debating the Boggins Window Crib to make nap time more interesting. Not sure if that will get me the steak dinner or the Alpo. Only time will tell.

Labels: bad parents, family, l-i-v-i-n, music, pop culture, the boy, tomfoolery, wife

This past year has been rife with big happenings including planting a spawn in my wife's womb and career upheaval. My mentor once said, "The best way to learn on how not to do things is by being around people who consistently fail and learning from their mistakes." My former mentor was once fired from a job for looking at porn on his work computer, but that is neither here nor there. The point is he is right. I have a solid understanding on what not to do professionally provided by a bevy of past employers. I have great examples of unsuccessful parenting skills thanks to former friends and coworkers (i.e. buying your kids beer only if they "drink it at the house" does not keep them "safe"). I am hopeful I have learned enough from these bad examples to forge onward and do the right thing. If I have not learned enough, I look forward to an illustrious career as a bartender and snorting cocaine with my kids.

Labels: babies, bad parents, career, drugs, porn, wife

• Hulkamania is apparently not about lifting your weights and eating your vitamins but slathering baby oil inappropriately all over your daughter's ass.
• Bill Geerhart wrote letters to some of the most infamous figures in the country posing as a ten year-old boy named Billy. Hijinks ensue.
• Just when I thought Tyra Banks was in another stratosphere with her insanity she proves that there are others even more crazy than her. The best (saddest) part of the feature? When Summer's dad hands her a bottle of lube for her first day of whoring.

Labels: bad parents, link goodness, perversion, pop culture

• Mother of year turns tricks while her kids are in the back seat and snorts coke from the stomach of her newborn son while breast-feeding him.
• Today marks the anniversary of Tim Allen being arrested with one and half pounds of yam-yam at the airport and rolling on his longtime friend to get a life sentence reduced only to go on to make shitty situation comedies and Santa Claus related films.
• Members Only jackets for $10. I may have to pull the trigger on one of these badboys and wear it over my Queensryche Operation: Mindcrime concert shirt.

Labels: bad parents, drugs, link goodness, music

• Thailand is portraying imagery of bad teeth, tumors and death instead of verbal cues as warnings on cigarette packs.
• "Cool Mom" Silvia Johnson (reacquaint yourself with the saga here and here) is moving to scenic Canon City, Colorado for the next 30 years. With that haircut I think she'll fit right in.
• I did not know it was so easy to get Mormons to jump from moving cars. Any Latter Day Saints out there need a ride? (In all honesty, we probably would not make it to backing out of the driveway).

Labels: bad parents, colorado, death, link goodness, mormons, perversion, silvia johnson

You may remember Silvia Johnson, the pride of Arvada's parenting community. After learning life altering lessons from her previous legal misadventures (read: giving teenage boys free dope and sucking them off), Silvia filled an SUV with adolescent children and gave the wheel to a young, unlicensed driver. Hijinks ensued.

Labels: a-town, bad parents, colorado, silvia johnson

This kid got off easy. As a youngster, my parents never gave me the option of getting out of the car. If they pulled over solely because of my antics they would have smacked me, called me a spoiled brat and told me to behave.

Labels: bad parents

Arvada, Colorado is the place where I grew up, attended school, played little league baseball, rode my bike to the swimming pool during the summer and went to Cub Scout meetings. It is also the place where I developed a penchant for whiskey, made a living on girls with low self-esteem and watched alcohol-fueled punks fight almost every weekend. It is the same place where Silvia Johnson, self-proclaimed "cool mom," just got busted for providing teenagers with drugs, booze and sexual favors.

Yeah. That is my hometown.

Labels: a-town, bad parents, childhood, colorado, drinking, drugs, silvia johnson

All I want to do is smoke up, baby. What is with this annoying neighbor kid? He keeps asking to drive my car? Here are the keys, kid. Now leave me alone let me burn this bowl in peace and quiet. What is the worse that could happen with him driving, anyway? Oh, right.

Labels: bad parents, drugs, inner-monologue, stupidity

"I whipped him with a switch and a belt. I never beat him. You beat someone with a stick."

Labels: bad parents, pop culture, quote of the day

Despite the objections of the Five Man Electrical Band and Tesla, signs seem to work. When most see a No Smoking sign they abstain from lighting up their dirt sticks. Most people will not park next to a No Parking sign. Society tends to obey signs with a Pavlovian reflex. In Santa Cruz, the Deputy District Attorney ordered all dumpsters be adorned with the sticker No Baby Dumping in hopes that it will discourage reluctant mothers from throwing their babies away. I think this is a good idea and hope it works. If we see a decrease in dumpster babies we should try signs like Absolutely No Murder. Or Gang Rape Strictly Prohibited. Or Do Not Masturbate On The Dairy Products. Why not try it out? My junior high school gym teacher once said that it never hurts to try. Of course, he liked to watch us shower after class but that is not the point. The point is signs work.

Labels: america, bad parents, dead babies, music, pop culture, tomfoolery