Now if only they’d open a Babies-And-Mayonnaise franchise in Indiana…
Until they do, though, I can continue to kill all existing free time (nowadays, that accounts for roughly 23.5 hours of my day) by visiting Why The Fuck Do You Have A Kid. Dotcom.
Personal favorites include the centaur, the Asian cam show, the raw chicken on the Playskool slide, the baby in the microwave and the not-so-subtle scatterings of racism that I do not condone, but do laugh at. Which I guess makes me part of the problem, not the solution. Although I would argue that the larger issue present here is that some of these parents were born with functional genitalia. Seriously, there has to be some poor bastard out there with broken sex parts who would make a wonderful parent. Yet the power of reproduction is placed in the hands of a 15-year-old girl’s MySpace account. There’s just no justice in that. Except when I later get to laugh at it and remind myself that, no matter how lame I am, there are roughly six million rungs on the social ladder oozing with ignorance and borderline mental retardation…all beneath my limited edition K-Swiss kicks. Which I’ve kept pretty clean for a couple months now.
Oh, internet. You capture pictures of everyone at their lowest! I hope someone finally got all my nudey pics off the Pokemon Snap forums. I turn on my Charmander pants come right off.
Yeah, I’ll go out on that one.