sign my guestbook

Name: Leonardite
State: North Dakota
Birthday: 1/24/1984
Gender: Male

Interests: music, girls, surfing, sports, walrus hunting, having fun LOL!!!!!
Expertise: Rigging the main sail on a 1600's era pinnace
Occupation: Archduke of Romania

Website: visit my website
AIM: thomasdolbyrocks44
Yahoo: None.......yet!!!!!!

Member Since: 2/31/2002

SubscriptionsSites I Read
i used to suscrbie to lots of pepole, but since we ogt into a fight, i don't. but i bet you are all still reading jerks!!!!!!!!

My Blogrings

Tenacious D Middle Finger Ring

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Featured Blog: BooBooAndPookie

National Clearinghouse on Child Abuse and Neglect Information

This link has been included as a weapon for you and me both to use. This isn't like a tornado drill procedure or high school calculus, we're actually going to use this. As you all know, bloggers are by nature very ridiculous people. But their irrelevant ineptitude usually inflicts harm on nobody but themselves and their already fragile egos. However, when you take the creative (can you call bloggers "creative?") liberty to write a blog for somebody else, that's where all kinds of lines get crossed and society begins to shed a collective tear.

When I put on my gas mask and entered Xanga tonight, I decided to go the "Family and Parenting" blogrings. I did this to save my innards the strain of violent vomiting that usually ensues after intensely trying to decipher the illiterate babble that is most blogs. I was assuming that parents would be older, wiser, and have language skills at least on par with third-grade non-bloggers. Of course that is a bold leap to make, "literate" and "parent," but as a proud American stereotyper, I went ahead in full faith.

My mission and its intentions were quickly derailed, or so it seemed, when I was drawn into the "!!!!PARENTS SUCK DON'T THEY!!!!" blogring. The Constitution of the !!!!PARENTS SUCK DON'T THEY!!!! ring is a common-law based statement that took into account the theories of countless scholars and visionaries when setting forth the doctrine under which the citizen blogs shall live. It reads in whole, on this the 17th day of November in the year of our Lord, 2004:


Several lawyers have speculated that this blogring will soon be deemed unconstitutional in the United States since it denies the rights of children in Mormon communes to express that they "thing" at least 17 of their parents suck.

New blogring in focus, I figured entering in here would leave me with some great teenage blogs and a greater respect for my upbringing as a non-jackass. Both theories were borne out to be true, but I didn't pick the teenagers' blogs. Instead, it was this blog that caught my eye:

Title: BooBooandPookie
Official Description:Hi, we're Brooke and Alexis, but you all can call us Boo Boo and Pookie. We're only 7 and 2 months old. Our mommies have xanga's, and we wanted one too, so they gave us one to share. We don't have all THAT much going on in our lives, but what IS going on, we can share with you all on here.

(Note: This is a hidden Xanga feature that can't be viewed unless you know two secret passwords, the handshake, and the hitting power of Lyndon Byers on NHLPA Hockey '93.)

Disregarding the advice of The Moffatts, I skipped the step forward and took two back from the computer. Was I really seeing this correctly? Is there really a human, a mere sixty days removed from the womb, being subjected to having her life posted publicly on the internet? The more I pondered this reality, the more it made my head hurt. Not because the concept confused me, but because I was trying to induce an aneurysm that would remove me from a world that has been overrun and ruthlessly conquered by retards.

Parents are proud of their kids. Parents notify people about what their kids are up to. Parents DO NOT pose as their kids in a fake website that is part of a webring devoted to how much parents suck. As if the blogring needed any evidence to support the charter other than that offered by 14 year-old experts, these actual child-bearers have given us some. Apparently parents really DO suck and the blog below further illustrates the importance that the !!!!PARENTS SUCK DON'T THEY!!!! blogring has on our domestic well-being.

The Blog

We all know that one guy who has an encyclopedic mental collection of dead baby jokes. If you don't, you're either old or your Friday nights are spent doing crosswords and watching your taped episodes of Jack Van Impe Presents. The fact of the matter is that dead baby jokes were a novel idea that went horribly awry when they fell into the hands of the wrong people. The key to a good dead baby joke was all in the delivery and in the element of surprise. The less the person has an idea of a deceased baby being the punchline, the better. In fact, most of the really morbid dead baby jokes aren't unfunny because they're offensive (the whole category is by design) they're unfunny because they are genuinely terrible attempts at humor. The only dead baby joke I've got in my arsenal, which is a great ice-breaker at parties or with law enforcement, is the following:

What's the difference between a Porsche and a pile of dead babies?

I don't have a Porsche in my garage.

Pure out-of-left field genius. Try it on Grandma at the next family gathering.
Brooke and Alexis are the unfortunate subjects in the ancient parenting art of "child humiliation." This blog is bad enough that it is probably going to get each of the kids mericlessly ridiculed for a good week upon discovery in elementary school. The kids "tell us" however to call them "Boo Boo" and "Pookie." I'm not Brooke and I'm not Alexis, but I know the inner-workings of their combined 9-month old brains enough to tell you that, no, they don't want to be called any of those names. The parents may call them those names only under extremely concrete conditions. These names may only be used in the privacy of the home and only in front of others who can be trusted not to ever repeat them or are deaf. The last thing any kid wants is their mom calling them "Boo Boo" on their blog. And all bloggers are bent on becoming world-famous, so now that everyone will know about this they have just sealed the girl's fate as the 3 AM -10 AM express aisle clerk at Wal-Mart, complete with "Boo Boo" name tag.

The interests and expertise get even worse:

Interests: We like crying, sleeping, bottles, going poopie as soon as mommy puts a new diaper on us, spitting up and then crying for more food, and getting into everything and making our mommies go nuts.

Expertise: We're good at everything we're interested in, and also growing up. We know how to do that.

Before, this blog was just embarassing for the parents and mildly so for the guiltless children. But now not only are the readers ashamed as well, but even Xanga is feeling pretty red in the face. That takes a lot considering that they are funding their children's education and Tyco-style Greek birthday parties capitalizing on the dipshit tendencies of computer users. Honestly, "We're good at growing up....we know how to do that?" Why put that? Why? It's not "cute." It's not "funny." It's fully-deserving of a "shut the fuck up" from a B-Level celebrity or an internet impresario like myself, so I am courageously fulfilling my mission.

If there is any silver lining in this whole ordeal, it's the fact that there were only two posts put onto this blog and they were both from the same day. Either both babies tragically succumbed to Infant Death Syndrome, or their mothers were violently beaten by their incensed spouses. Either scenario is for better or worse, an upgrade from a mother's cavalier and destructive blogging that was bound to remove the child's hope of having a valuable existence.

Friday September 24, 2004
Hi, this is Pookie now. My mommy just took me to the doctor, and now I'm mad at her. They stuck me 4 times. It hurt so bad, but that's ok. They don't hurt so much anymore. Unless someone touches my legs, but they don't really do that, so I'm ok. Since I'm mad at my mommy, my auntie is holding me now. I swear, sometimes I like her better, but maybe that's cause she doesn't take me to get hurt. Just wait. One day I'll be taking HER to the doctor and SHE will be the one getting stuck.

(New Post)
Boo Boo here, Pookie is still sleeping. So I figured out how to pull myself up in my crib this morning. It shocked my mommy when she came to get me. He he he, it was funny. Actually, I already know how to stand up by myself, but if she knows that, then I'm gonna have to learn how to walk, and then she won't carry me around anymore. Maybe I'll string her along for another couple of months, and then suprise her one day. Won't that be funny? My sister Pookie still can't do much yet. At least she doesn't for her mommy. She smiles at everyone, but she talks to me. She's still little enough that she doesn't have to do anything because no one will worry about it. But me, I have to do things or they'll think something's wrong. She makes fun of me because she just gets to lie around, but in another month or so she'll be expected to do some more things, and then I'll be the one laughing. Ok, I'm gonna cry for a bottle now. Ma ma da da na na ba ba. (That's baby speak for goodbye.)

These atrocities need no commentary. They need no dissection. They don't even need my witty expertise. Of course I could throw out some lines like "Maasdfkdjsaflkjsda is Leonardite speak for 'For the well-being of the future earth and its alien conquerors, you really need to shut up immediately" but I trust that you all have beaten me to it by now anyway. Instead, let me leave you with a frightening bit of knowledge. Another ring that this blog belongs to is the "We're babies" ring. Using the powers of deduction taught to me by Freddie and Velma, that leaves me to assume that more parents are gleefully feeding their children to the eternally hungry Xanga monster. This is the greatest threat to children this country has seen since the release of Mike Tyson from prison or since an entire generation of youth found comedic value in "dead baby" jokes. You have the link at the top of this page with which to help put a stop to this. Think of the children.

Language Skills: The actual execution of the English language was astoundingly good for a blogger. The use of the language, that being to pose as babies on the internet, is another story. This is further evidence backing the secret government plan to limit internet access to only the very wealthy and/or to those who have sufficient education to guarantee that their asinine habits won't ruin the experience for the rest of the world.
Blog Appearance:The pink colors and baby speak were about as cute as hoboes fighting, which could be very good or bad, depending on your interests.
Final Thoughts:I'm a big supporter of kids. Anybody who wouldn't say that is a liar or in the state hospital, but it's especially true for me. That being said, this is parenting on par with having a keg at a kid's ten year-old birthday party, except this blog won't have the saving lesson of teaching children about the brutal reality of hangovers. It's a cruel world in which we live.

Back to Blogs

Back to