Monday, July 15, 2013

The Buttnerd Files, Vol. 2


I was thinking about writing an article called "Fuck Florida" today.  I'm sure the reasons are obvious, but just in case you're not aware, I'll sum it up as best as I can.  In Florida last week, one man was found not guilty after murdering a teenager for pretty much no reason at all, while a mom was sentenced to twenty years in prison after firing warning shots at her abusive husband who had violated his restraining order.  Also, I have a more personal reason.  I live in PA.  We get a lot of traffic from NY and NJ here.  Yet, of all the close calls I've had on the road where somebody does something idiotic and nearly hits me (such as getting into the left turn only lane at a traffic light and then turning right, cutting in front of me as I'm already accelerating) the license plates were Florida plates.  What the hell is going on down there, Florida?  I guess this is what happens when you turn a swamp into a state.

Anyway, I'm sure everybody needs a reprieve from all the "Let's give Florida back to Spain" sentiment, so today, for the sake of writing a positive distraction instead of an angry rant, I'll share some more ridiculous stuff from the mouths of my kids.  Can it be more ridiculous than the original set of quotes?  We'll see.

Should I be proud of Maggie or sad for our nation that even she, at nine years old, can see how ludicrous it is that we outsource our jobs and import almost all of our goods?  While she was visiting my sister recently she found out why a former steel mill was now an empty building, she got fired up, and she proclaimed her desire to fix the country with this speech:

Maybe I'll become President so I can talk people straight.  I'll give you some money.  You can come live in The White House, and maybe I'll see Abraham Lincoln's ghost!

Okay, the first sentence was great.  The second part is questionable: she's just going to give my sister money.  I hope that's her own money and not tax dollars, but either way, at least she's honest and up front about it.  The third sentence is where the whole thing goes a little off the rails.  Still, it's fairly sane compared to most of the garbage our politicians spew out on a regular basis.

You can't argue with Maggie's first point, though.  A lot of people need to be talked straight.  While our greedy 'representatives' are lining their pockets and steering this country into hell, many of us choose to live by the mantra "ignorance is bliss".  As Dr. John said, "If ignorance is bliss, why more people ain't happy?"  That's a good question.  I am not ignorant, and I am certainly not blissful.  Sometimes I just want to punch everything.  Oh, how I want to punch everything!  A few months ago YaYa expressed exactly what I frequently want to do:

I will just punch this bullshit!

She actually wasn't angry when she said this, merely trying to make me and Ginger laugh.  We laughed.  Yes, our five-year-old daughter knows some of the 'bad' words, but we don't believe that words can be 'bad'.  Society decided that a certain set of words shouldn't be used, and we've been breaking our own rule ever since.  Ginger and I just made sure that she knows she can't say those words at school or in public because she'll get in trouble.  It's funny that anything she's heard me mutter while I'm pissed off is assumed, by her, to be a curse.  Sometimes, through gritted teeth, she says, "Piece of junk!" as if it's the worst thing to ever be said by anyone.

While "Piece of junk!" may not be very threatening, I have been threatened by a dangerous Lego man.  Maggie was making the little guy act like quite the punk to me.  And I found all I needed to know about the dude when 'he' said:

I've got an axe in my car.  What else do you want to know about me?

Nothing else, Lego guy.  I know enough already.  Since this happened I have been considering putting an axe in my trunk so I can use this line on people I don't want to talk to.  Man, axes are so cool.  You know what's not cool, though?  Getting farted on all the time by little buttnerds.  They think it's so damn funny, too.  They're lucky I'm tactful enough not to fart on them, but the day may soon come where I hit my breaking point and let 'em rip.  And in case you're wondering why I can't just take the farts off of me, YaYa explains:

Haha!  I farted on Dad.  You can't grab my farts off you and put them back in my butt!

Very practical knowledge.  I wish I knew that years ago.  I tried putting a fart back in my brother's butt and I ended up with a funky rash.  It still flares up to this day, and the only cure for it is listening to death metal and eating too much Chinese food.

Speaking of my brother, we finished everything we needed to for Series 2 of The Super Pancake Bros. Super Show.  (That's why the blog is about my kids today and not Robert Stack.)  Look for Series 2 episodes on Video Vednesday starting sometime in August.  Yeah!!

Alright, I hope you've enjoyed this reprieve from all the bogus crap in the news.  Do you feel reprieved?  Can you feel reprieved?  Is that a thing?  If anything, I hope you follow these simple bits of advice found in this article:  Vote for Maggie, punch bullshit, carry an axe in your car, and don't try to put farts back into somebody's butt.  Who says ya can't learn nothin' from a blog?

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