Showing posts with label new weekend getaways that won't break the bank. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new weekend getaways that won't break the bank. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

uuuuuugh! the pain and the suffering!

My mom and axl rose both had birthdays last week. That’s pretty cool. I wanted to get together, the three of us and just have a joint celebration, but it wasn’t in the cards. Axl can be a real bitch when he wants to, you know?
Anyway, today I’m exhausted. All week I’ve been out late shooting this project, and while it’s been tons of fun, I’m no longer used to being up until one in the morning every day, and I’m old and well…holy crap. I feel like I’m through the ringer. I need some jasmine tea and a ball massage.
I’m also dealing with a potentially broken laundry machine and a child who continues to flout authority and devour innocent people. It’s making me a little sweaty, frankly. You know what I need? A yacht. I need a yacht out in the middle of the sea with a comfortable bed and some sun and a lot of good, healthy food and a ton of butlers and cooks and ball masseuses and some private daycare specialists and what else? Since we’re just wishing for things, the yacht should probably have an arctic terrarium/aquarium full of penguins inside it. I love penguins almost as much as penguins love ice cream. Trust me.
I dunno…I’d probably just be seasick today. Don’t ever get old, kids. Your body just can’t hang with old world living. I mean, shit. I’d be going on my second nap of the day if I just threw prudence to the wind and did what I’d really like to do. That’s grandpa style. And not electric rapping grandpa style either. Just traditional.
I’m frustrated with this biting thing with my kid. I don’t know how to get through to him that it’s really not nice and it totally fucks up everyone’s day when he just gnaws on whoever. It’s ruining my day, honestly. Yesterday he had six (SIX!!!) incident reports. That’s craziness. I just absolutely don’t know what to do. This flummoxed helpless feeling, I’m learning, is how parents constantly feel and it’s exactly why they’re just nervous uncool wrecks of human beings who stop going to movies and stop knowing if it’s Robert Pattinson that’s Harry Potter or if what anyone could enjoy about sound of a vocoder. All they want is for the kid to stop biting. But he won’t. He’s a petulant shit who refuses to listen and refuses to understand and it makes you nuts.
And my kid is nice. He’s sweet and he’s a good sleeper and he’s well behaved, besides his taste for human flesh. I mean, my friend Nick used to lock his nanny in the basement. He used to flush rabbits down the toilet at school. Ultimately, he turned out pretty well, but uh…what do you say to that? That’s borderline sociopath shit.
God, listen to me. Here I am crying like Ryan Seacrest at the last scene of Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat, and I’ve just got a kid doing regular toddler shit. Nick’s mom had to be going fucking nuts, hiding her hydrochloric acid and making sure all the lamps in his room were just upholstered with regular fabric and shit. Thank god they weren’t from Wisconsin.
Those are Jeff Dahmer jokes, folks. And just to bring this full circle, I’d like to point out that our stupid twenty four hour news cycle has created a universe where miserable anorexic dildos in fake tans camp outside the parents of our nation’s crazy sociopaths houses and when they go get their mail, they all bum rush them and say “Your son is a monster! Do you still love him, knowing what you know now?” I mean, that’s what they did to Dahmer’s parents. And sure, those parents probably fucked him up pretty good. But man, what kind of a question is that? That shit’s brutal. Innit? I mean that’s the kind of shit that…
Oh wait a sec. BRB.
Okay, actually, I just got the call of the day. For the last 2 years we’ve been getting calls from the Chicago Public Schools. Four a day. No shit. Today, they FINALLY got me on the line, and you know what they asked? If Brendan Kelly’s parents were there. When I started to explain that my parents live in Missouri and that my kid is two and that they’ve been calling me for the last two years and so on and so forth, they fucking hung up on me! Not only is there some kid out there who’s been ditching school four times a day for the last two years, but there’s also no way that I can even know if they took my number off the list.
I’m outraged. In fact, this is the worst outrage in the history of humanity. Fuuuuck. I need a yacht and a nap, folks. It’s all downhill from here, right Pudnik? Right. Sigh.