HOW to RAISE a Child

So you've gone and made a baby, and now you wonder "What the fuck next?" You find that you're ready to mold a young mind into something non-assholic, and hopefully create a person who won't be an absolute boil on the ass of society. You're ready to raise a child.

Step 1: Make sure the kid is really yours.

Now, if you're the woman in this relationship, it's kind of a gimme. Though if nine months before this baby popped out of you you seem to have a blank spot in your memory, then there is the slimmest of chances that your husband/boyfriend/pimp chloroformed your ass, took you to a shady clinic and had a slimeball doctor introduce somebody else's fertilized egg into your waiting uterus. Before you start throwing accusations around though, answer me this: Have doctors previously described your ovaries as the Sahara Desert of your womanly parts — barren wastelands where nothing but sand blows and buzzards scavenge? Are you rich as fuck and thinking of leaving your husband/boyfriend/pimp? Are you simply ugly as sin? If you answered "no" to more than two of the previous questions than that blank spot in your mind from nine months before is simply alcohol induced. Like all your other blank spots in your memory. Slut.

If you're the man in this relationship then confirming your seed planted itself in the [accuser's] egg can get tricky. Unless you don't care if the kid is yours or not, you're going to want to prove that it's YOUR genetic deviant that you're (being forced into) raising. First of all you're going to have to wait until the woman plops the little bugger out. The first test to see if the kid is yours is to check skin color. If the kid's skin is black, but you and the Mrs. are as white as the driven, virgin snow, that's not simply a recessive gene like the woman may claim. She just fucked a black man. And if the kid comes out a little more brown than you with thick eyebrows and a full beard, you may want to have a word with your lawn people.

If the kid looks like you (well, if it matches your main attributes enough so that if you carry it down the hospital hall people will stop and say "Awwwwwwww" at it, and not call the cops on you), then the next thing you have to do is slip the doctor a couple of Benjamins to have the lab run a few quick DNA tests on the little bastard. If this test confirms your fears/hopes, then congratulations! You have a child that is genetically and legally attached to you!

Step 2: Name the kid.

Raising a Child... The Wrong wayThis is a very important step in the rearing of one's spawn. A name, whether good or bad, can influence a person's life from the very beginning. For example, do you know of anybody named Poindexter, Billy Bob Bubba, Laquershiteria, Viagra, Aereolis, or Seymour (Butts) who EVER accomplished anything in life?... In other words never even DREAM of naming a kid anything that ends in either "-enis" or "-agina," unless you hate them for some reason... Like they RUINED YOUR LIFE!... But a good name is the start of a good child (i.e. one who won't embarrass you just by being introduced). Try to pick a strong name — a regal nombre — for your larva. Alexander, Caesar, Reagan, Elizabeth, Ross, Adolf, etc... Names that when spoken aloud give off the initial impression of dignity and character (or in Adolf's case, a person you don't want to fuck with), even if this illusion is quickly destroyed upon introducing your buck-toothed, weak-chinned, cross-eyed sociopath seconds later. Any chance for perceived nobleness that you can give the fup will be appreciated in the long run. And this benefits you as well, as it's people named Brucie, Dick, and anybody named after Harry Potter characters (you sick, sick fucking parents...) who end up killing and eating their egg and sperm donors (more than likely for naming them so fruitily). Well, I guess "Dick" is okay if your last name is Steele or Footlong... But it's not is it... You're just really disturbed assholes, aren't you...

Step 3: Get grandparents involved (so that they'll pay for a lot of the kid's expenses)

This step is probably the most important for the parent (next to finding out if the kid is actually yours). Sure, grandparents weren't always "grand" and were just "parents" when they raised you, but things change when people get older and realize that they've wasted their lives and that their last potential chance for happiness may be their own seed's sprout's sprout. Don't fight them on this. Give in to their newly found NEED to help bring up a new life on this planet that could possibly be less fucked up than the one that they originally brought up. Plus, they usually have a lifetime of hoarded of cash lying around of which they don't know what to do. You can usually tap into this fund by hinting at things like, "Oh, we were going to buy groceries for little Junior this week, but things with the bookie have been tight..." and, "If there's one thing that our little princess wants that we just can't afford it's that new Pioneer 65" 1080p plasma flatscreen to hang on the wall in our bedroom... along with an HD video camera that we can aim at the bed... Too bad her dream won't come true..."

Another bonus to grandparents is they can become a major source of parental de-stressing time by babysitting (for FREE) on $1 Draft Night or on Busty Lusty's debut at the titty club. Honestly, if it weren't for the grandparents most parents these days would go broke from hiring a babysitter for one night out of the house. Teenagers these days charge over $10 a fucking hour to watch your little rug-rats, and they raid your fridge and make phone calls to friends and relatives in Europe on your shitty long distance carrier. The really obnoxious ones (meaning the ones who know your last minute plans can't be changed and that they can FUCK you up the ass financially and responsibility-wise) have friends or boyfriends/girlfriends over when you're not there, and they like to have sex in your bed (sometimes before the kids are asleep)... I used to babysit. Trust me on this. And I have a friend who once threw a Super Bowl party in a family's house, put the kids in charge of walking beer and snacks around, and the sitter spent most of the night with me in the master bedroom's jacuzzi tub.... Holy shit that was a fantastic night! My point is that it would be much, much cheaper (monetarily and psychologically) for you and your kids to get back on good terms with your parents before your first genetic disappointment pops out.

Step 4: Feed and clothe the kid

This may sound like the most "duh"-like step, but what it essentially means is "clothe the kid, but not in garage-sale clothes from two decades ago, and feed the kid, but not with only shit food." You'd be very surprised as to the number of moronic parents who fuck this step up. All you have to do is go to your local Super Wal-Mart to see firsthand how many people don't understand the importance of not making their child either obesely fat as fuck, or a walking (well, waddling) fashion disaster that will make not only all their school friends, but their teachers, and people they pass on the sidewalk laugh at them.

No, I'm not saying that you need to buy them $200 sneakers and $100 jeans... Don't be a goddamn shithead. Just don't make them wear bellbottoms or corduroy. Or corduroy bellbottoms.

And as for food, don't feed them nothing but shit with 50 grams of fat per serving morning, noon, and night... But DON'T be one of those dicky parents who never let their kids eat a box of Cap'n Crunch, or some sugary cereal with marshmallows in it. God... Come on, give the kid a cookie in his lunch, just don't give him the whole Chips A'Hoy BOX of cookies in his fucking lunch pail. Everything in fucking moderation, morons! It's all about common goddamn sense, you simplistic fuck-ups... Jeesus, how the hell did you manage to get your dick in the hole in the first place if you need to have this shit explained to you! And yes, if your kid is the goddamn Michelin Man at 4 years-old you obviously DO need this drilled into your head (preferably by a Black and Decker electric power drill with a 12" bit). You're probably a vomit-inducing fat fuck yourself, aren't you?! Christ.... Just give the kids up for adoption and eat yourself blind, Fatty McFatfat! You'll all be happier and your kids won't get diabetes by their 9th birthday.

Step 5: Educate the kid

I'm talking "1 + 1 = 2" AND "don't go running into the street to chase after your ball without looking to see if a semi-truck carrying a giant piece of construction equipment is barreling down the road" educations here. Problem solving and street smarts are both important to a child, and you might learn a little bit about "actions and consequences" yourself by preaching these things to your love-berries-bambino... Like how to always wear a rubber even when she says "Oh, you don't need thaaaaat. I'm safe today." Christ... She's NEVER safe. Never trust the slut!

The key to this step is to never trust anybody else to teach your kid what you think they need to know. Follow that right there and your kid will grow up smart and healthy. Trust the public education system though and your kid might turn out to have less street smarts than Paris Hilton touring Compton on a bicycle, in nothing but a bra and mini-skirt, at 11 at night. Just like Paris, your kid's going to get RAPED (by life... though possibly by a large ex-con in the hood in a back alley behind the burnt-down McDonalds... But unlike Paris Hilton, your kid won't enjoy it).

STOP IT NOWTake every chance you can to teach your kid stuff, but don't be an ass about it. For example: DO point out how that other kid screaming in the restaurant was a bad child and won't be watching any TV for a month; DO NOT drill your kids on multiplication tables, or the capitals of all 50 states in order for them to play some Nintendo. DO explain to your kids that the politician that they see in the news is a lying douchebag and will never fulfill any of his/her campaign promises ever; DO NOT holler, spit, and slap the shit out of your kid if he accidentally tracks some mud into the house or mistakenly sets the living room rug on fire. Yes, a light whuppin' may be necessary if your kid is Damien, but never slap your kid full force on the face, or use a closed fist on him for ANY reason... Unless he really, REALLY asks for it. You'll know when this is if it ever comes to it. And if it does come to it, just make sure the little puke stays down... That's just to everyone's benefit.

Beyond book smarts and street smarts, the MOST IMPORTANT thing that you can pass along to your kid is to RESPECT others... Well, others other than douchebags. This is probably the easiest lesson you can teach. When your kid starts acting up and being a little turd, spank the prick on his ass. The younger he/she is the better — the faster it'll sink in. Now, I'm not advocating child abuse here, or anything that can get you into trouble with the law if they find the whip marks... No. I'm saying SPANK the little fucker if he's acting in a way that society finds to be "inappropriate."

If the little shitstain purposefully dumps juice on your or anybody else's sofa or dog, smack their ass. If your child starts screaming at the top of her lungs in public that you're a meanie or that she "hates you" because you wouldn't buy her a toy, pop that bottom like a pinata. And if your hell beast spits on you, throws something at you, or does anything else to physically assault you or any of his elders.... Fuck, just consider this kid a trial run that FAILED, and abort the little cockfest at his 21st trimester. Do NOT allow this shit to continue with a child and work its way into his/her adulthood. We need to stop this shit from being passed on to the next generation. Stop it NOW.

The final word for this step is please, PLEASE teach your kid common sense (which as the saying goes "isn't really very common"), and then book smarts and street smarts should follow. (This is for the kid's own survival.) Finally should come MANNERS... This is so I don't kill your whiny little bitch myself.

Step 6: Kick the kid out of the house (at 18)

After 18 years of allowing your own parents back into your life in order to help pay for the kid, and 18 years of feeding, clothing, and educating your child, you're finally at the pay-off: Kicking your kid out of the house and making him fend for himself. Now, if you actually LIKE your groin spawn, and you can afford to keep it going with higher education, then why not let the kid stick around for a while longer... But do NOT, under any circumstances whatsoever, let your kid either move back in with you (rent free) or NEVER leave your house. If you kick your kid out and he doesn't make it on his own (in other words, if he's a worthless slacker son of a bitch who'd rather smoke the crack pipe all day in your basement than become a worthwhile member of society), the best thing you can do is to send him packing and ignore the little fucker until he makes something of his life. EVERYBODY on this entire planet can make something of themselves (unless they have a real honest to God mental handicap). We've anti-Darwinized our entire society just so that even the laziest of fucks can still function in it without killing themselves, so don't believe it for a minute when Jr. shows back up on your doorstep with his suitcases in his hands claiming "the guv'ment is done against [him], and [he] ain't got nowhere else to go." Slam that door in that retard's face. That's the last piece of real education that you can give him: Life isn't fair.

A short aside here: One of my favorite movie quotes of all time is from Jim Henson's Labyrinth. The Goblin King Jareth (David Bowie in his greatest roll ever) keeps changing the rules on the game that he's playing with Sarah, and she just blurts out "That's not fair!" time and again. Finally Jareth looks at her with a sly menace and states, "You keep saying that, but one must wonder what your basis for comparison is." His point, and my point, is that "Life sucks, then you die."

Anyway, back to step 6. If you actually DID successfully raise a decent kid and amazingly enough you find that you LIKE him or her, and you decide that it'd be okay for he/she to continue living under your roof after the age of 18, at the VERY least you have to set an end date to this arrangement (charging the wannabe freeloader some rent wouldn't hurt either). You have to realize that if you allow him/her to remain living with his/her parents past a certain point then your child will function with less and less success in society as a whole. Many of the lessons you taught your kid will be undone by this living arrangement and they will either become lazy assholes who start shrugging responsibilities, or pussy fuck-ups who don't know that they should be out trying to get laid every Friday and Saturday night, and instead end up watching old Murder She Wrote or NCIS episodes with you on the weekends. You've come this far, you have to cut the damn umbilical cord for both your sakes!

If your kid is over 18 years of age and no longer lives with you, and isn't in jail, then congratulations! You've successfully raised a child!

Bonus tips:

After kicking your kid out of your house, your husband/wife gets lonely and decides they want another child!

JESUS CHRIST! Quick! Get your tubes tied or get a vasectomy! NOW! You're much older than you were the first time a kid came along. Now, add EIGHTEEN YEARS on top of your current age... THAT'S how old you'll be when your next potential kid is out of your hands (legally). My only advice if your partner is sure about another little hellion at your age is to babysit for some unlucky fucks who didn't listen to my advice -- the younger their kid the better, and the more colicky the more my point will be heard. Remind your partner that THIS is what your nights will be like for another few years, then do some quick math for all the food and clothes that it'll take to raise another kid and you should have been able to make your point.

As a bonus to this point you can emphasize just how much fun GRANDkids are, and how you can always give them back when you're done sugaring them up on the weekends. Grandkids are the best of both worlds.

Your daughter that you raised for 17 years is now going out with a total douchebag! What can you do?!?!

This is a problem faced by all parents of teenage girls. For some reason as soon as they hit puberty teenage girls fall instantly in love with the closest (and biggest) douchebag around. The size of the douche in the bag is directly proportional to the hotness of your daughter; scientists are studying this phenomena but have yet to come up with a valid theory as to WHY this occurs, let alone any way to stop the sicknesss. The only thing you can do about it is to lock her up until she's 34 and well past this phase, or just make the douchebag in question disappear. Just email me... I know people... It won't cost too much. And they'll make sure the douchebag suffers. A whooooole fucking lot.

As an aside, if you are the parent of the teenage douchebag in question, then you should be shot. You failed at raising a child.

Send me money.
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