Call me Ishmael.
Who the hell names their kid Ishmael?
No wonder the kid ran off to sea.
Half the people reading this have no idea where that came from.
The other half has no idea where I’m going with this.
Well I’ll tell you.
There’s an expression, “Our children are our future.”
I’m just a tad worried.
Yesterday my twenty two year old son bought fifty orders of french-fries from McDonalds.
He said he wanted to see if he could win a prize.
He won twenty-six more orders of french-fries.
So much for the “Intelligent Design” theory.
Then I remembered my oldest son spending over a thousand dollars at Sea World cracking open oysters to get pearls.
He said it made him feel like a pirate looking for treasure.
So much for a “private education”.
Which reminded me of when they were little, and I’d take them to 7-11 with me. While they were getting Slurpees, I was buying California Lottery Scratchers.
They would watch me scratch and swear, scratch and swear, scratch and swear…..
At least they ended up with some fries and some pearls.
All I got was grey shavings from Lottery Scratchers all over the kitchen counter.
It might have been different if I hadn’t lost my lucky quarter.
I think I used it to buy french-fries.
Thank god I set a good example.
Because someone needs to help the next generation out.
So I’m here to help.
I’ll start with the music.
Um… Here are a few rules.
First of all it has to actually have a “tune”.
Secondly, if you “say” it it’s not a “song.”
Third, if you’re six miles away from me, I don’t need to hear it.
Although I must admit I think there were a few times my father blasted “Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture” or Wagners "Ride of the Valkyries" as we drove around the Safeway parking lot looking for a space up close.
“I love the smell of Safeway in the morning. It smells like…. bakery.”
Oh god…..
I am turning into my father.
So I guess it’s true.
Our children are our future.
So I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to my sons.
I am your future.
Paybacks a bitch.
No wonder the kid ran off to sea.
Half the people reading this have no idea where that came from.
The other half has no idea where I’m going with this.
Well I’ll tell you.
There’s an expression, “Our children are our future.”
I’m just a tad worried.
Yesterday my twenty two year old son bought fifty orders of french-fries from McDonalds.
He said he wanted to see if he could win a prize.
He won twenty-six more orders of french-fries.
So much for the “Intelligent Design” theory.
Then I remembered my oldest son spending over a thousand dollars at Sea World cracking open oysters to get pearls.
He said it made him feel like a pirate looking for treasure.
So much for a “private education”.
Which reminded me of when they were little, and I’d take them to 7-11 with me. While they were getting Slurpees, I was buying California Lottery Scratchers.
They would watch me scratch and swear, scratch and swear, scratch and swear…..
At least they ended up with some fries and some pearls.
All I got was grey shavings from Lottery Scratchers all over the kitchen counter.
It might have been different if I hadn’t lost my lucky quarter.
I think I used it to buy french-fries.
Thank god I set a good example.
Because someone needs to help the next generation out.
So I’m here to help.
I’ll start with the music.
Um… Here are a few rules.
First of all it has to actually have a “tune”.
Secondly, if you “say” it it’s not a “song.”
Third, if you’re six miles away from me, I don’t need to hear it.
Although I must admit I think there were a few times my father blasted “Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture” or Wagners "Ride of the Valkyries" as we drove around the Safeway parking lot looking for a space up close.
“I love the smell of Safeway in the morning. It smells like…. bakery.”
Oh god…..
I am turning into my father.
So I guess it’s true.
Our children are our future.
So I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to my sons.
I am your future.
Paybacks a bitch.
posted by Shrinking Wop at 8:28 AM
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