Mano a Hombre

Because my son is going off to industro-socialization (kindergarten) this fall, I thought it was time that we had our first man to man talk. Incidentally, have you ever noticed how everyone says "mano a mano" when they really mean "man to man?" "Mano a mano" translates to "hand to hand", as in combat. Further, "hand to hand" really does not need a Spanish replacement in the English language, does it?

So, you can see how our pre-school discussion got off to a bad start. But, before my son went off to dip his wick in the big candle that is life, I wanted to explain to him a few ways that one can get burned.

1) "No" means "No" only in LOSERVILLE. Did Alexander the Great take "No" for an answer? Ok, perhaps a homosexual warrior megalomaniac is not the best role model for me to choose for my son. How about that guy that invented all of that stuff? When someone said, "Hey, why don't you go invent some stuff, did he say "No?" Or those other guys? Did they take "No" for an answer? I highly doubt it.

2) Whenever you get in a fight, if you don't want to get into trouble afterwards, you can give yourself a bloody nose by banging your face with your knee. Then, all of the teachers will be pretty busy dealing with that. Also, remember to always push it one step farther than anyone else. Eventually, people will recognize that you are insane and they will avoid you. This is how we won the cold war.

3) If you find a flask of booze or a bag of weed in your teacher's purse, don't pull it out to show off. This information should be carefully stored for later use. It is what is known as "political capital" and will become invaluable.

4) Crayons up your own nose = funny, crayons stuck up other people's noses = priceless. Other timeless classics; farting, farting noises, acting like someone farted, and acting like something smells like someone farted. However, a person should really save himself until he is older, more mature and really ready to commit before lighting his own fart.



5) If someone is bullying you, go tell the recess monitor that the bully has been trying to put his wee-wee up your bum-bum. You'll have to spend a few sessions in counseling, but there you'll be able to refine your storytelling skills. And, the bully will get the worst of it.

As for the birds and the bees, I told him that their jobs were to shit on and sting him, and then I referred him to the Love Engine.



Oh, in other news, they've found Jesus. The Holy Bastard has been holed up in a cave for 2,000 years, so apparently it wasn't his flesh that everyone has been munching on. But, then, whose flesh was it? Anyway, I think we can call off Easter. Maybe that Bunny would work out on MLKing Jr. day instead. It seems a shame to waste him.

Bold New Plan Unhinged

During his much anticipated remarks last night, Rusty announced his new strategy for winning the hearts and minds of followers of other major religions.*

"Our strategy of religious conversion through bombing and killing is not working, and I recognize that," explained Rusty, "what do you think I am, an idiot?" Rusty then outlined his bold new proposal. "Obviously there is only one way to convert these fools to the one True Churck, and so here is my plan - more bombs and more killing."

In order to break the dumbstruck silence following the description of his “plan,” Rusty continued nervously. "Sometimes you have to die to be saved, and that is just how it is. The people need to recognize that faith is hard, and it requires sacrifice. And so we will increase the sacrifice until we arrive at faith. That is just how it is. No further questions."

Rusty is suffering from dismal public approval ratings which have, for the first time in recorded history, fallen into negative numbers. According to the latest redemption poll, there are less than zero people who approve of the direction Rusty has taken the First Unichurck. Rusty knows he is in a hole, but he will dig himself out of it come Hell or, well, I guess it is just come Hell.

Rusty’s poll numbers have been declining since release of his youth education plan – “No child’s behind left untouched.” Designed to address growing youth violence, Rusty’s approach of sending teachers into the homes of children to attack them violently seemed to have the unintended consequence of actually increasing resentment, hatred and violence. The approach, known as “beat them at their home so that we don’t have to beat them at our school,” is generally understood to be moronic.

It is hoped that Rusty's new conversion “plan” will halt his sliding poll numbers and postpone the inevitable until some other deity is on watch.

*Targeted religions include: Anglicans and curvicans, Bahais, Bapto-methodists, Catholics and assorted sex-based sects, Confucianists and fortune cookieists, Congregationalists (Assorted), Druids, Falun Gongers, Gabars, Guys with the white shirts on bikes, Jains, Jews, Martin Lutherans, Mahayanists, Mega-churchists, Mormons, Muslims, Old-timey peoples, Pagans, Parsis, Pentecostals and other reptile enthusiasts, Rastafari, Scientologists, Shaivists, Shintos, Sihks, Spiritists (Assorted), Svetambara guys, Taoists, Tenrikyos, Theravedists, Vaishnavists, Vajrayanists, Voodoo dudes, and Zoroastrists.

Also includes “Neo” all of the above, “Orthodox” all of the above and “Reformed” all of the above. However, the Churck will not accept anyone with a nationalist denomination such as Buddhofascists or Voodonazis.

Happy Hollow Wiener

Best of luck to all of you in the candy-acquisition process; feel free to shamelessly use your offspring to attain your goals.

Teach Your Children, Well?

For once, I was at a complete loss for words. Today I had the pleasure of playing chaperone on a pumpkin patch field trip. Keeping track of 45 3-4 year olds is not so much like herding cats as it is like herding mice. They are small, quick and virtually indistinguishable, and they are able penetrate any opening through which they can fit their heads. They also refuse to keep their hats and mittens on in complete disregard of the cold or of the threats of severe corporal punishment.

But this was not the troubling part. While the children were assembling at the preschool pre-trip, the teacher gathered them together to sing some of their favorite songs. The first was an innocuous greeting song about "welcome everybody" or some such shit. Then, the wheels came off.

I should have told you that the kids and teacher were singing along to a CD. This means that someone recorded, published and distributed this collection of auditory fecal matter.

Song #2 filled me with shock and awe. Those of you who have not heard this particular number may have difficulty believing the following retelling, but I swear on a stack of award-winning "What Color is My Pair of Shoes - Career Advice for a New Millenium By an Award Winning Award Winner" books that this is true.

McDonalds, McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Pizza Hut.
McDonalds, McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Pizza Hut.
McDonalds, McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Pizza Hut.
McDonalds, McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Pizza Hut.

Etc. There were verses about Wendys, Arbys, Burger King, Dairy Queen and always the above refrain. I shit you negative.

Not only that, there were gestures. Both arms arched to form the golden arches, and so forth. AND, the kids all knew the song and the gestures.

I must admit that I sat dumbfounded and silent during the entire excrutiating event. While we were shuttling toward the bus, I asked the teacher, "Uh, what is the deal with that McDonalds song."

She shrugged sheepishly and said, "I know its not the best kind of food, but the kids really like it."

Again, I was speechless. Sure the kids need constant advertising bombardment in order for us to spend our way out of this post-911 slump. But must they become part of the advertisement? Am I missing something or is this what it sounds and appears to be?

While I pondered, weak and weary, her words came back to haunt me: "its not the best kind of food, but the kids really like it."

Mission FINALLY Accomplished--thanks to Sesame Street

In a much anticipated move, Sesame Street's Bert, of the famed duo "Ernie and Bert", revealed the accomplishment of an ongoing covert mission to assassinate Osama Bin Laden. Or is it 'Usama'? Bert, who has always been considered the more responsible, stern, serious-minded and perhaps downright mean of the two--the SuperEgo to Ernie's Id, if you will--held a press conference yesterday in Paris, France where he revealed the nature, duration and an overview of this mission accomplished.

When it became clear that the Administration wanted to capture and/or
assassinate Mr. Bin Laden, the Executive Producers of Sesame Street were
unable to ignore the similarities between the current Head of administration and
a certain orange-faced, silly laughing colleague of mine. They approached
me to play on my experiences with Ernie and take control of the situation.
Now, unlike on Sesame Street, where Ernie's shenanigans ultimately bring him out
on top at the end of the scenario and my being humiliated for being such a
tight-ass as a representation of the inherent value of youthful, innocent and
playful attitudes triumphing over the oppressive, regulated, adult world
a-la-the counter-culture movement of the Sixties, in this case, my cold-blooded
strict tendencies managed to win out as I jabbed my syringe full of Typhoid
innoculum into Mr. Bin Laden's right lung. Eat that, Ernie. Who's
the man now?

When asked how the Sesame Street team were able to locate Bin Laden and then further infiltrate his inner security circle, the pointed-headed assassin responded,

It was diabolically simple. It has been known for some time that
Mr. Bin Laden is a big fan of my colleague, Grover. We simply extended an
offer to meet, have dinner and view previously unreleased episodes of "Super
Grover saves Islamabad". What Mr. Bin Laden didn't realize, obviously, is
that some of the cast of Sesame Street such as myself and colleague Oscar the
Grouch, actually have quite unpleasant dispositions. Hey--I'm no Elmo, if
you know what I mean. That was the Bin Laden team's critical error.
The irony of it all was my ability, even after the Typhoid had been injected, to
get one of Bin Laden's henchmen to snap this picture of me in action.
Poetic is the only word that comes to mind. Thank you for your
attention.