January 31, 2012

Nerditry Within

Seriously. Dawg. I spend a few minutes making fun of Ron Paul, and then it's all about nerd bullshit. Awesome nerd bullshit, but I would think so.

Sorry I rant in the middle of the podcast. Normally I save that for the end, but I got worked up, and it is hella late as I record, so my brain isn't working right, and I only just thought of moving the track. It's not hard to do. Take me about ten seconds. But I saved and exported the file already. I take that as my point of no return (I don't really have such a point, but it's helpful when I don't want to do something). I hope you enjoy, and can understand, the podcast anyway (I refer to my notes several times, but I eventually gave that up), and that it's not just a bunch of incoherent rambling.

Late Facts: while recording this I had that song that goes "And it feels, And it feeeeels like, Heaven's so far away" ("Gone Away", the Offspring) stuck in my head. Listening to it now is like scratching the best kind of itch. 

January 7, 2012

Keep the Faith

The Podcast:

And since I didn't feel like doing a real post, here's an excerpt from my upcoming fictional book:

Raising Kids, or: So you’ve decided to share your home with a retarded wolf for 18 years.
Kids are like retarded wolves. They run in packs, have obvious alpha and omega positions, do not care for the laws of god or man, and hunt anyone not part of the pack. For the parent it is necessary to assert status as alpha continually; kick your kid over a lot when they are learning to walk, just to let em know what’s up.

They are retarded wolves because children are useless, understand nothing, but it’s a crime to leave them out in a thunderstorm. They can’t bring in food, bitch if you make grilled cheese “wrong”, and are horrible little
miscreants. While wolves grow quickly and can support themselves after time and get along with the pack (or get kicked the fuck out) you have to keep your kid alive for 18 years, during which they go from horrible, to okay, to awful, and during the first and last stage their “pack” is either other smelly, small, abominable beasts, or teenagers. And if the fucker gets hooked on drugs or booze, you look like the bad guy if you beat it, even if it deserves it.

So that doesn't sound very wolf-like, you say. Ahh, but they bite. And they are supremely adaptable, despite constant complaints that "this sammich has too much bread". They run in packs, greet new things with hostility until said new thing has proven useful, and despise baths. So they are wolves, just not useful like wolves. You can't put them in the backyard to thin out those damn deer that eat your garden. With that in mind, I wrote this book to help parents keep a handle on the monsters.