Every so often I fire up MS Paint and assemble the first thing that comes to my head. This is one of those times. I probably need help.
Originally posted on Zug.com, now Media Shower, on 12/11/2012.
Being the good Dad I am, I have to make damn sure that what my child is watching isn’t harmful, destructive or, worst of all, horrible programming. Now my boy, like most children, loves puppies. And the idea of a puppy that can talk is even better. Right?
Turns out, no. A talking puppy is actually quite horrific, if the popular children’s series Air Buddies is to believed. I got my hands on five of these damned flicks, and sat through every last minute. Turns out the only thing worse than five talking puppies, is five talking puppies who have absolutely nothing to say.
This was originally published 11/15/12 on Zug.com, now known as Media Shower. Zug’s whole thing was pranking, either on others or on yourself. I chose to make myself suffer, such as in this piece, where I subjected myself to hours and hours of Kidz Bop music. Contrary to everything you’ve heard from absolutely nobody, these songs suck.
As a parent, one of my primary responsibilities is making sure my son isn’t exposed to excessive violence, sexuality, coarse language and, most importantly of all, horrific music. So in the name of science, I decided to sit down and listen to a six-hour marathon of tracks from the Kidz Bop series of albums, to test what such a thing could do to an unprotected human brain.
I decided to start with the most recent album, Kidz Bop 22. Why yes, there ARE 22 of them, not including the six or seven “special” albums devoted to butchering hair metal ballads, or country songs, or anything by The Beatles. So I press play and, just ten seconds into the opening track, Stronger, I’m already pissed. “You know that life feels better, sitting here alone.” Excuse me? That’s not the line at all!
It’s time to set a few things straight. First and foremost: if you watch The Price Is Right and sit idly by while I “work,” I hate you. You are the reason my life sucks.
For 40+ years, I’ve been forced to climb a mountain by the taskmasters at CBS. And not just climb — I’m expected to topple over the edge and crash some 100 feet (well, it’s 100 feet to me anyways) to a death that I pray will quickly come and yet never does. I’d sooner perform one of those mundane nothing jobs you losers constantly complain about. Oh, you operate a cash register and sometimes ring up multiple items? How I weep. When’s the last time you ended up in fucking traction because your co-worker didn’t know the price of milk?