What else are you gonna do... NOT riot??

Since the city of Vancouver erupted following the game 7 loss by their Canucks last week, I haven't been able to shake the feeling that I've seriously been missing out.  There's just something so inherently intriguing and eerily beautiful about the beast that is the sports-induced riot... and I want in.

"And this is me in front of Vancouver's famous raging street fire."

I want so badly to know what it's like to be swept up in the whirlwind that is a mass group of people simultaneously flipping some primal switch in their brains that leads them all, you included, to the same undeniable conclusion; "Flipping cars and arson is definitely the logical way to go here." Then, as if controlled by the mob itself, you proceed ransacking and/or destroying everything within reach until you are ruthlessly beaten into submission with a billy club.
Now I know that may not sound like fun to some of you, but imagine the unbelievable rush it must be to want it so badly that you do it in spite of knowing how it will end.  It's basically like having sex even though you know you might wind up with a baby. Speaking of which, these people found the best of both worlds in Vancouver (Side note: If you're reading this 9 months from now, you live in Vancouver, and your name is Stanley... these are your parents) (Side side note: If you're reading this at 9 months old you are some kind of record-setting baby genius who will inevitably rule the world with an iron fist and I'd like to preemptively pledge my loyalty and servitude to you, baby Stanley).
In the end, it's not a question of how logical or illogical rioting is. It's just a matter of me living my life never having been happy or angry enough about anything to turn over some helpless bastard's Camry, and that my friends, just isn't living at all.

I'm too sexy for my teething ring

It's a pretty simple equation, if you have a super-hot baby and you want to make sure the world knows it, buy him this outfit...

I swear to God, if I see any kid in this inexcusable camo shorts/creepy shirt combo I will immediately report his parents to child services. I feel like this outfit alone could completely shatter a child's sexual psyche and result in years of expensive therapy over his deep-seeded mommy issues. 

Mommy's Major Hunk? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I see this kid fifteen years in the future telling girls they should feel privileged he's even asking them to prom, since his mom has been telling him what a fine piece of ass he was since he was one and a half. 

The fact that this outfit has even been manufactured begs the question: should any mother's be referring to their baby as a hunk? I feel like the answer there is a pretty strong "NO!" It seems unfair for a kid to have to tackle Oedipal issues before he can eat solid foods. And can a baby even be a hunk? And if they can, shouldn't you have the decency to take into account the millions of babies suffering from lack of confidence due to their rolly-polly shape (and pants shitting), and not rub it in their faces that you have a seriously chiseled infant?

This was so uncomfortable to even write that I don't know of a good way to wrap it up. World, you are weird and gross. Knock it off.

Stop praising your spectacularly mediocre children!

While driving down the highway this weekend I spotted one of those bumper stickers dedicated to a child's accomplishments. But it wasn't the standard "My Kid is on the Honor Roll at whatever, I dunno like, Lawrence Taylor High."  Which would've been bad enough. In fact I've actually come to realize in the years since, that I was a dick for thinking my parents should put that sticker on their car, because when they did, I now realize that everyone who pulled up behind them looked at it and said to themselves "No on cares douchebag!" But not this sticker, no this one was even more special. It read:

"My Child Received the Attendance Award at Palms Middle School."

Now THAT's worth bragging about!

You have got to be kidding me. We are setting the bar at an all time low if all it takes to pat ourselves on the back is that we made a kid who is able to show up to stuff. And it's not like it was next to an honor roll sticker. No, this was the only lonely sticker on that entire bumper. So it may as well have said "My kid went to school but don't get the wrong idea here, he in no way excelled academically." Congratulations, your kid was at a place. Is that really that praiseworthy? If so, I'd like my long overdue credit for the Yankees 2009 World Championship, because I was present at several games that year.

We need to put an end to this nonsense. Maybe stop shoving your kids faces full of hot pockets, pull them away from the TV for five minutes and make them go out into the real world and actually accomplish something. No more giving out trophies to the losing teams or telling your kids they're special for doing the most mundane shit. Why? Because it has been scientifically proven that this is the formula for creating assholes. So knock it off.