The Mind of Spaz

Children are dipshits.  They really are, and it’s becoming a pandemic.  An ever increasing number of children are becoming dipshits, and the sad part is, they do NOT grow out of it.

As a result we, as a society, have an every growing population of adult dipshits that have the minds of children and THAT is why we are doomed to failure and destruction.

Boy, aren’t I just a ray of sunshine or what? Moving on.

Every day when I pass kids, they’re doing this thing called texting.  I don’t get texting.  It takes you minutes to text what you could just call the person and say in mere seconds, all from the same device.  It makes absolutely no sence whatsoever.

But the kids are all doing it!  Moping along, heads down, looking at their phones, chubby little thumbs going a mile a minute.  Now there’s a future burden on our hospital system. The people that sell tensor bandages are going to make MILLIONS with all the carpal tunnel.

What we have now is a bunch of texting zombies.  They won’t stop to look while they’re crossing the street, moving through a construction zone or walking off a peer to drown to their deaths.  If you can’t recognize danger and avoid it, then you are clinically retarded, and we need to help these retards.

I think I have a plan at how to help these retarded texting morons.  I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m somewhat retarded and my plan is doomed to failure.  Well, you’re right about me being somewhat retarded anyways.

Tonight I was taking the dog for a walk and trying to answer a text message. Hypocritical? Yes, but I send a total of three a week, not three every ten minutes like these dipshit kids. Anyways, as I was texting away the dog kept on walking, pulling me on our usual route through the neighborhood. And it’s then that I had a brilliant idea.

Blind people have seeing eye dogs to help mitigate their disability. Well, we could have dogs trained to help the people with texting disabilities.

Afraid your kid will walk into oncoming traffic in the freeway because of her texting disability? No problem.  Attach the fully trained rover to their torso with a short lead and rover will keep them out of trouble!

It’s brilliant, absolutely and totally brilliant. In one fell swoop I’ve saved lives, created a whole new industry and tens of thousands of new jobs.

You’re welcome.

social commentary, talking out of my ass dogs, dumb children, idiot adults, retards, texting

*Before I begin the following atrocity, please click here if you care at all about helping those without enough drinking water.

My Dog has a second name.  I didn’t give it to her.  Her given name is Jinx, but according to the guy across the street, her real name is Mrs. Young.

My across the street neighbors are an older, retired couple.  He’s a loud, cranky old bastard that has a voice louder than all the prosti-tots screaming at a Hanna Montana concert.  He combines that loud, booming voice by going topless in the summer time, letting his old man boobs swing freely in the breeze.  His wife compliments his drunken antics by saying virtually nothing at all and keeping her boobs covered by ensuring she always wears pants.

Since they’re retired, they spend all day staring at my house.

“But Spaz”, you’re all thinking, “Aren’t you just being a paranoid screwball?”  Ordinarily I’d agree I was being a paranoid ass.  But this time, I’m not.  How do I know?  Because Mrs. Young was the last owner of this house.

My house was built in 1950.  I bought it in 2005.  And I’m the second owner.  That means that the original owner I bought it from was REALLY REALLY REALLY old.    According to the old loud guy, my dog Jinx stares out the window all day while I’m gone, which is what old Mrs. Young used to do when she had the house.  And to know that, the retiree’s have to sit in their house and stare back at my house all day.

Martha, this owner leaves the house. Get some dog treats to distract Mrs. Young and I'll steal his TV.

Now, you have to think that if you’ve owned a house for your entire adult life, you become attached to it.  Heck, I’m attached to this house and I’ve only been here for three and a half years.

I’m not one to believe in ghosts, but there was this one time, just once, that old Mrs. Young came back for a visit.

And she came back at the most inopportune time.

I had went into the computer room to watch some… ummm, internet videos and have some…. alone time with Pamela Handerson, if you catch my drift.  The door was closed because Jinx, the ever curious terrier might confuse my tan coloured love pole with her tan coloured raw hides.

That’s not cool.

I was in the middle of watching a really cool video of a VERY flexible big boobed Asian when I heard it. A voice, an old ladies voice, right outside the door where jinx was sitting. It said “Don’t worry little one, he’ll be out soon.”

I like watching him best when he's making dookie.

Now, I haven’t heard anything since then. Most likely it was the T.V., but if Mrs. Young is watching, could you please tell me if that thing on my ass is a boil or a zit?

Thanks.

social commentary, talking out of my ass dogs, dumb children, idiot adults, retards, texting