Let’s be honest here: If I had a kid, it would be better than yours. There are two reasons why there is no reason to argue with me. Firstly, I will never have kids, so it is strictly hypothetical. Secondly, it is simply a theory. Albeit, a theory in the same sense that gravity and evolution are simply theories. Namely, unless you can fly, or unless you believe that your great-great-great-uncle had dinosaurs readily available for him to saddle up and ride, then you ought to believe that my hypothetical offspring is better than yours.Your skepticism disrespects me, but I will humor it insofar as it is necessary to debunk it. Allow me to imbue you, current, future, currently or future hypothetical parents, with an overwhelming sense of inadequacy as I explain my child-rearing manifesto. The copyrights on all the following information is pending an overhaul of the U.S. Copyright Office’s stance regarding utter bullshit and applying copyrights thereto.
The art of fashioning what amounts to be a creature that only loosely resembles a human being and that can only be accurately described as an “it” into something worthwhile begins before birth, nay, before conception. As a prospective parent, one must heed my keys to being powerful in order to ensure that one’s offspring are powerful:
- The entity must effortlessly wield an impressive arsenal of vocabulary. It is important to use bombast to shock-and-awe mental dwarfs into humiliation and adoration. If one makes another feel dumber than he or she actually is, then one will subsequently, and by equal measure, seem smarter.
- The entity must have a physical prowess that befits a beard. Note, the entity need not have a beard, the beard need only be an accepted possibility to accentuate said prowess. Think Chuck Norris, Aragorn or Jimmy McMillan. Physical prowess is not only intimidating, which is powerful in and of itself, but it is also a cue to lower expectations of intelligence. Therefore, if the entity should be even moderately intelligent then the added bolster of feeble expectations would bump that moderate intelligence to a most-definitely intelligence. The logic is simple and true.
- The entity must have no distractions. Indeed, distractions are the bane of most existences. Want of food, playtime, and etcetera only delay the acquisition of power.
And so, these are the pillars of power, as it were. The duty of a parent is to raise a child who will epitomize the above. Most parents do not even know that the pillars of power exist, let alone how to instill them in children. I know. I know how.
The first step is naming a child. It is highly encouraged to complete this step prior to vaginal-ejection, though sometimes spit-balling on the spot works best. Now, once the child is evicted and forced to disavow its parasitic ways, there is something you need to do. You need to burn your baby’s taste buds. Irrevocably. Is it barbaric? Perhaps. Is it prudent? Certainly. I can sense that my logic eludes you, and, given your taste in blogs, it doesn’t surprise me. Allow me to spell it out for you: If one is stripped of his or her sense of taste, one has no preference of food. Save texture, lettuce and chocolate would taste the same. Broccoli and bacon would taste the same. Coke and Pepsi would taste the same. Thus, lacking taste buds would ultimately lend to a healthier lifestyle. Bet you didn’t see that coming. And they call me a monster…
Next order of business is to increase gravity a bit. Babies are fat. The only upside to obesity is that the obese can float exceptionally well, making intrinsically obese babies buoyant as can be. Floating is not a skill. Turds float; no one calls them skillful. So, as soon as possible, babies must be burdened with excess weight. Apply weighted clothing to the baby, increasing the amount every fortnight. This way, the budding child will familiarize itself with Jupiter-level gravity. Sure, the thing will be a slow and lumbering wreck for the better part of a decade, but think about when that child’s restraints are lifted during his first flag football game. Awwww shit…kid will be leaping like he’s on the f****** moon. THAT is how you grow an athlete, ladies and gentlemen. THAT is how you teach physical prowess. Once he’s off the field, the weights go back on and his training continues. So let’s recap: We burn the tongue to restrict the diet to healthy foods and vast amounts of protein, and we apply weight to the child and increase it bimonthly.
Now, you may be saying to yourself: By golly, he’s on to something, but surely he cannot have devised a surefire plan to instill intellectual prowess as well. As always, my attempts at delving into your psyche reveal that you are much dumber than I remember. Of course I have a plan. Here it is: Every communicating member of society has a foundation vocabulary, one which informs how articulate one is. This foundation typically includes basic words that are learned very early on. We see a man sprinkle glass shards in his daughter’s Lucky Charms. We call him bad. We see a back-to-back rerun of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. We call it good. Anyway, for most of us, the diametric relationship between all things that turn out favorably and all things that turn out rotten is encompassed within the binary: Good or bad. This is because the goo-goo ga-ga bullshit that parents parlay as “teaching their children to speak” puts a premium on lower-level vocabulary. Not me. I am teaching my kid highfalutin alternatives to basic words. Good and bad? Try nefarious and benevolent. I will only use and my kid will only know the most esoteric and singular GRE vocabulary words. This will ensure that my kid comes off sounding pretentious. He will intimidate the hell out of your kid. Then he’ll beat the shit of of your kid for good measure.
Fast forward and what do you see? My kid is the President of the United States and your kid is combing the internet for fetish porn and–in between bouts–for this blog post so he can salvage his existence by living vicariously through a winner. Uh and huh!