I've decided I'm against freedom of speech. Or rather, I'm for certain freedoms of speech—as long as they don't make me depressed and want to kill myself. TV shows with laugh tracks, for example. THEY DRIVE ME APE-POOP! I'm like, "What are you people laughing about?!? It's Jim Belushi, for chrissake!" And everybody on NPR should be banned as well. What they're saying is fine—but those monotone voices make me want to stab the ears off my head.
OH! And here's another example of free speech I hate: TV shows that feature really mean parents. Ever see those parenting shows like Nanny 911 or Wife Swap where the kids are holy terrors and the parents learn to stop being so passive and enforce a more structured, rule-oriented environment? I FREAKING HATE THAT!! The parents become smug control freaks while their previously interesting kids turn into smiling nonargumentative drones who'll eventually be perfect Wal-Mart employees.
Oh, and here's another reality show debuting this week that's a prime candidate for exclusion from the free-speech rule: World's Strictest Parents (CMT, Sat April 18, 9 pm). From the press release: "Two unruly teens from a different family are forced to adapt to the rules and regulations of very strict host parents." UGH! Shows like this are like porn for insecure moms and pops. Hey, if they like this, then they're going to LOVE my new idea for a reality parenting show: Uganda Child Soldier Boot Camp!
Look parents! You don't need these idiotic shows to teach you how to raise children. The secret to successful child rearing is to get in their freaking heads, man! The brain of a child is somewhat similar to that of a salamander. Example? Between the ages of three and 10, kids only have three prime directives, which they are hardwired to accomplish: (1) Get candy. (2) Avoid going to sleep. (3) Abuse the opposite sex. Later when they reach the ages of 11 to 25, these directives change somewhat: (1) Get drugs. (2) Always sleep. (3) Have sex when not sleeping.
So how do you get a kid to do what you want? Stand in the way of a directive! With prepubescents you might say, "Marcie, stop kicking me with those pointy Cinderella shoes, or I'm dumping your Pixy Stix down the toilet." AND THEN YOU DO IT. The same thing works for teens: "Johnny, please pull your penis out of the neighbor's vagina, or I will be forced to confiscate your jazz cigarettes and smoke them myself." THEN YOU DO IT.
My parents used a mixed approach. My dad would steal my jazz cigarettes, smoke them, and then send me back onto the street to buy more. Then he would have sex with my girlfriend! Afterward he would snort my Pixy Stix (I think it was Pixy Stix) and sleep for three days. HEY! His method of parenting may have been unconventional, but it worked! Now I never sleep, I haven't had sex since the Clinton administration, and no one will sell me marijuana because I call it "jazz cigarettes." Thanks, Dad!