I Am The Finder Of Lost Children

I was at The Wal-Mart (the ninth circle of Hell) this weekend and there were some young ladies selling baked goods outside. They were all about 11 to 14 years old and were trying to raise money for their church youth group trip.

Of course, I stopped by to make a purchase. Not because I’m a hog-ass who was craving cookies, mind you. It was for the children, people! For. The. Children. And…and…for Jesus! Yeah, that’s the ticket.

For Jesus and children, not chocolate and muffins.

For faith and humanitarianism, not gluttony and cravings.

I’m a selfless individual sacrificing my figure for those in need. Got it? Ok, good. Now we can continue.

After I made my purchase and a small donation, I turned around to walk off. The young ladies, who were very sweet and polite, were calling out stuff like, “Bake sale!” “Everything is just $1!” They had a lot of goodies left, so they were really trying to get rid of this stuff.

Then one of the girls called out, “We’ll dance for you!” Then another one said, “Just a dollar!”

Shit! I could practically hear every child molester in the county perk up and run to their non-descript white vans, in search of $1 dances by churchy pre-teens.

I really don’t think the girls meant anything bad, but it still creeped me out, and I wanted to go stand near them with my .38 and shoot anyone who tried to mess with them. Did I mention that there were no adults supervising these little ladies? No adults. I believe they are old enough to sell baked goods by themselves, but would it have killed one of their parents to stand out there with them, just to make sure they were okay and that none of them said anything stupid? Like, perhaps, inadvertently making offers of dancing that could attract some of the more unsavory members of our society…

Let me tell you, nothing pisses me off more than child predators. I think death is too pretty a fate for these asshats. I think prison is too good for them, even if they acquire an unwanted cellmate/boyfriend named Big Bubba and a raging case of anal herpes.

These “people” will never be rehabilitated or cured. They will just get better at avoiding prosecution, usually by murdering the child so they can’t tell anyone.

I think convicted child predators should have their body parts cut off with a dull butter knife, starting with their ding dongs. Each day they would have another body part removed, without the benefit of anesthesia, of course. I’m sure that went without saying. Just to mix it up a little, I think a rusty chain saw or machete could be thrown in from time to time. Whack off a finger one day, a toe the next, until there is nothing left but a torso and a head.

Then send the nub to live on Anthrax Island. And surround the island with hungry sharks and lots of stingrays.

And that’s actually my “nice” plan. I’m keeping my “naughty” plan in the vault in case someone ever messes with any of my family members. I can tell you that it involves cockroaches, a scalpel, and rubbing alcohol.

I recently went to Chuck E. Cheese for a birthday party. Many of you know how I feel about this place of torture. Here is a refresher for those who need it. I attempted to get out of it by sticking an ice pick up my nose (which, consequently, is also part of my naughty plan for dealing with child molesters) and feigning a nosebleed. No one was fooled, so I had to go. DAMN!

I was TRYING to play skee ball when I noticed a little girl who was about 2 or 3. She was crying and looking around for someone she knew. The poor kid was terrified! I called my daughter over to make the toddler feel more comfortable. We tried to get her name, but she wasn’t talking at all, just crying.

My heart was breaking at this point. She held my daughter’s hand, and we looked around for her mom. The child didn’t recognize anyone, so we found the nearest Chuck E. Employee, and handed her over.

About 20 minutes later, I saw the little girl walking around again BY HERSELF, still crying! WTF, Chuck E. Employee? My daughter and I again took responsibility and walked the child all over the restaurant and gaming area, asking each parent if they were missing a child.

No one was even looking for the kid! I would have been tearing the place apart if I had a child that young who was missing. That’s the nice thing about having a 9-year-old. I can sit over in the dining area and drink Dr. Pepper and sneak pieces of pepperoni off of the pizzas and stick my finger in the cake icing while she plays games. But who the hell lets a toddler roam around with absolutely no supervision?

Chuck E. Cheese, for all its faults, is a pretty secure environment. Though now I wonder, since the Chuck E. Employee just gave up on finding a little kid’s parents, and turned her loose to fend for herself.

I finally asked for a manager, and she assured me that she would find the kid’s parents. She told me later that the parents were outside smoking, and that’s why we couldn’t find them. I personally think the dumbass parents must have been smoking crack. Would any normal parent just leave a baby to wander around by herself? Hell no! You’ve gotta be a crackhead to do that! And this child was lost for at least 45 minutes. I don’t know how long it takes to smoke crack, but my guess would be about 45 minutes.

This was not the first time I found a lost kid at Chuck E. Cheese. It also happened a couple of years ago, but I found the mom really quickly. (She was actually LOOKING for her kid - imagine that!)

I think I’m going to become like Eddie Murphy’s character in The Golden Child. You can just call me The Finder of Lost Children. Hopefully, I won’t have to go to Tibet or fight any biker gangs. For real, I just got my nails done.

I got a blogging award

I have received a blogging award!  Hey, stop laughing!

I received this award from Angie at Like She's Somebody.  She is a hoot and if you haven't checked out her blog, go do it now.  Seriously, GO!  But just make sure you come back!

It is now my duty to pass this award along to other deserving bloggers who make me smile every day!  And the award goes to......

My Kids Might Be Martians
Hiding From the Kids
Content Unrelated (Make sure to check out the "Is it Manly?" series.)
Disco Lemonade
Mental Poo
Mommy Wants Vodka 
Red Means Go
Sassy Curmudgeon

Thanks for the laughs...now pass the love on to some of your favorite bloggers!

Oop, I forgot that you're also supposed to list 5 random things about yourself.  Here are mine:

1.  I LOVE football!  It's my favorite sport
2.  My family is very confusing.  My dad and my mother-in-law are both named Terry/Teri, and I have 2 brothers-in-law named Mike.  Makes for a lot of confusing conversations!
3.  I once won a syrup sopping contest.  See, now you know just how fabulous I am!
4.  I hit a motorcycle with my car as a teenager.  They were ok, and I was ok, but it left me open for all kinds of comments and jokes...still to this day!
5.  I like big butts, and I cannot lie.  'Nuff said!

Random enough for ya?
I'm outta here!

Things That Get On My Damn Nerves - Chapter 3

Ok, sweeties! Here is the 3rd installment of "Things That Get On My Damn Nerves."


Kids at Dave & Buster's


For those of you who don't know what Dave and Buster's is, it's like Chuck E. Cheese for grown ups. There is a restaurant (with food that's actually decent), pool tables, shuffleboard, and a bar at the front. At the back of the establishment is one big-ass arcade! Wooooo boy! They have all of your old favorites like Pac-Man, Centipede, and Space Invaders, as well as more modern arcade games, shooting games, virtual golf, and skee ball.

Dave & Buster's arcade

Now, let me tell you, I can play the shit out of some skee ball.

I am da bomb at skee ball!

But when I try to play at Chuck E. Cheese some little kid is always whining about me hogging the skee ball game.

Oh, stick a sock in it, kid!

I often get the stank eye from some mom after I whack her little darling in the head with the ball on my back swing.

Sorry, lady! He should know to stay the hell out of my way; I'm trying to hit that little 100,000 point hole and get a high score. Good Lord, I NEED those extra tickets because there is a sparkly rubber ball I've had my eye on over there in the prize area, and I only need 8000 more tickets! Anyway, this is the reason why I have always liked going to Dave & Buster's - NO KIDS ALLOWED IN THE GAMING AREA!

My dream prize!

But the last time I went to Dave & Buster's, there were kids everywhere!  Who made this insane decision?  No one consulted me, dammit!  Now I can't even say "shit" when I lose my last little dude on Pac-Man without worrying about some pipsqueak overhearing me.  And I certainly don't want to get that stank eye from momma again.  {*shiver*}

I love spending time with my kid, but sometimes it's nice to go to a grown-up place where you can eat, drink, and have fun.  This place used to be Dave & Buster's, but now it's pretty much a sucky playground area.  Please, for the love of God, stop the insanity!

Kids these days!

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m going to gripe about kids these days. Yes, like the “old people” used to do when we were kids. I’ll do my best not to use the word “whippersnapper” or any other senior citizen terminology.

I recently read that in some school districts, the administrations have banned teachers from using red pens to correct their students’ papers. It seems that they don’t want to scare the children with that very frightening red ink. “It just seems too harsh,” said one administrator. “We prefer a more soothing color like purple.” What kind of pansies are we raising when a particular color of ink causes a child to need psychotherapy?

They are also banning the act of taking off points if the child forgets to put his or her name on their paper. You’ve gotta be kidding me! They wouldn’t have lasted 1 day with our teachers. I can’t tell you how many times we heard, “If it doesn’t have your name, how will I know whose paper it is?” I guess in these touchy-feely schools everyone just gets the same grade, so it doesn’t matter if your name is on it or not.

Speaking of grades, there are actually schools out there that don’t even give grades. They feel that grades inhibit the learning process. What a load of crap! How do you know who the dumb kids are if you don’t have any grades? (I know, that was just wrong!) These are the same schools that encourage children to play chess, arrange flowers, or practice yoga instead of focusing on reading, math, and science. Yeah, yoga and chess will really help you in your college classes and/or in the real world. And people wonder why the Japanese children outperform American kids in math and science scores. But I’ll bet our kids could kick their butts in flower arranging! I’m not so sure about the yoga and chess…

What’s going to happen when these whippersnappers (sorry, it slipped out!) get a job and have a performance review? They’ve never had anyone tell them that they aren’t perfect before. They’ve never had their papers corrected (with a RED pen!) or had the responsibility of simply writing their names on their papers.

I can just see it now…

Boss: I need you to get that report done this morning.

Whiney employee: But I usually do yoga from 9:45 to 10:15 and follow up with a rousing game of chess.

Boss: Uhhhh…you’re fired.

Then the whiner will most likely file a lawsuit alleging discrimination against pansy asses.

I have actually known parents who go to the school because their child’s teacher is too strict. “She wants everything done this way, and if they don’t do it, they get points taken off.” Well, duhhhh, just tell your kid to do it the proper way and everything will be fine. Now was that so hard? I see nothing wrong with teaching someone the proper way to do something, and then expecting them to do it. That’s why it’s called “teaching.” That’s what they used to do in schools. Remember those days?

Now to be fair, I love my daughter’s school and teachers and think they do a great job! When my daughter gripes about having to do something at school, I do not rush up there and make them change their policy because my little precious (and she really is precious!) wants to do it another way. I just tell her to suck it up and do what she’s told. Because that’s how I roll!

The Commercial

One evening I was watching TV with my 8-year-old daughter, the aforementioned Miss Smarty Pants (MSP), for those of you that have been following along with my blogs. It was late on a Friday night, and we were enjoying some quality time as fellow couch potatoes, watching old sitcoms. During the commercial break a pleasant voice came out of my TV. It said, “Are you tired of carrying around that extra weight?”

Me: “YES!”

TV Person: “Is it hard for you to get to the gym for expensive and time-consuming training or aerobic classes?”

Me: “Duh!”

TV Person: “Do you enjoy dancing?”

Me: “Yeah, baby! I love to shake my tailfeathers!”

TV Person: “Well, this is the workout video for you.”

Me: “Yippee!”

TV Person: “Try our fun and effective pole dancing instructional DVD! Lose weight while learning the most sexy and exotic moves we could find!” {Video of scantily-clad ladies grinding on chairs and spinning on poles accompanied the voice at this point.}

Me: {Shit, shit, shit!  Fumbling for the remote and speaking in an extremely loud voice…} “SO HOW WAS SCHOOL TODAY?”

I finally got the channel changed after a seemingly endless 10 seconds of more spinning, bumping and grinding. I was shocked that they would show this commercial on anything other than the Spice Channel, but thought that maybe I had distracted MSP with my quick-thinking and witty conversation.

No such luck! The next day, we were in a very crowded restaurant when MSP piped up (in that really loud voice kids use when they are saying something inappropriate), “Hey, Mom. Remember that lady dancing on that pole last night? That was funny!”

Oh, dear Lord! Now everyone was looking at me like I had drowned a puppy or something, which I guess is normal if they have reason to believe you've been chillaxin' at the local strip joint with your small child. Why, oh why didn’t I have my finger on the power button in case some semi-porn popped up on TV Land? Well, perhaps because I wasn’t expecting to see strippers during a commercial break while watching Full House. Who would’ve thought???

Somehow we made it through the rest of lunch without anyone calling Child Protective Services, but I’ve learned my lesson now. I always keep the remote control in my hand at all times when my daughter is in the room.

And while we’re on the subject, what is up with all of the commercials touting Cialis and Viagra? And they show those during prime time, not just on late night TV! Exactly how do you explain erectile dysfunction to an 8-year-old? I think I’ll discuss Cialis and Viagra in a later blog, so tune in….you don’t wanna miss it!

Update: I have suffered a broken leg and a concussion due to my new pole dancing, errr…… I mean, workout video. But I can still type, so my blogging will not be affected!