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Joking? I Might Be...


Author's product rating:   Everything that starts with J ... - rated by stevethesleeve

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Advantages: Rosa Furiosa will be soooo proud of me .
Disadvantages: 95% of the entire human race will want to skin me alive and make me eat spam

Recommend to potential buyers: no 

Full review


Children? PAH! Who needs them, eh?

OK, the Human Race needs them...I’ll grant you that. But really…if you get down to the nitty-gritty…what’s the Human Race? Just us lot making a mess and breeding a lot. A lot of KIDS that is!

Let’s get down to some hard-won facts here. I know I won’t be saying anything ‘correct’ or ‘popular’ here, but it’s only me letting off steam, OK?

Kids. Children. Yoof. Youngsters. Little Darlings Call them what you will (and around our neck of the woods people call them things like Jeremy, Oliver, Natasha, Jemima...and not a germ of irony or sarcasm in there at all!) they are an unnecessary addition to the scene. Honest!

Let me explain.

My little strip of London has a whole slew of fine coffee shops. Loads of the fragrant little nooks and crannies have sprung up over the past few years. I really love a nice cup of coffee, and the idea of an espresso or two, with maybe a croissant or a muffin, a good book to read and a quiet corner in which to enjoy all these is a very appealing one. Sadly, for about 6 hours of each and every day, each and every one of these coffee shops becomes some sort of crèche, with mums, toddlers, pushchairs and nappie-bound bums taking up every spare space, seat and stool. This klatch carries on through the day from the time the older ankle-biters are dropped off at school until they are picked up again.

There is NO peace for one such as I who desires his coffee untainted by the scent of dirty diapers and his reading undisturbed by the screaming of small smeary mouths.

That’s just an example of what I’m on about. I wouldn’t really eliminate breeding on the grounds of good coffee (HA! Grounds…Coffee…geddit?) but it does serve as an example of what our poor brainwashed race has let itself in for.

How about supermarkets?

If you do your shopping in a suburban supermarket on – say – a Sunday at around 11.30am, you will probably recognise this scene:-

“Daddy”

“Yes Alopecia?”

“Can we have some of this…Mummy always let’s us”

“That’s bleach, Alopecia. Mummy doesn’t let you have that, and you wouldn’t like it anyway.”


“YES SHE DOES...AND I DO...REALLY I DOOOOOooooooo….daddydaddydaddydaddy puh-LEEEEEEASE let me have it.”

“No Alopecia dear. Now get out of the freezer and put it back where you got it.”

“WWWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”

“Alopecia dear, leave that turkey alone and get out of the freezer.!”

Yes folks, it’s Middle England Dad Takes His Turn – the show you LOVE to hate!

And then there’s school. No children would mean we wouldn’t need any more schools, right? That means no school run. So no more cars parked as though thrown into place by an earthquake, blocking the roads and creating queues of impatient drivers just itching to run someone over. It would also limit, if not completely eliminate, the sales of MPVs and f***-off big gaz-guzzling 4-wheel drives to people who live in towns with little skinny suburban streets…which can only be a good thing.

And think on this: No children means NO CHILDHOOD DISEASES. Fantastic! No more bloody news bulletins debating the value or danger of MMR vaccine. No more nasty little rashes or swollen glands. No more writing to teacher excusing the little rat’s absence due to ‘vomiting and diarrhoea’…in fact

NO MORE TEACHERS.

All those poor souls who have devoted themselves selflessly to the education of our yoof can now go out and do something less arduous with their lives.

Here’s a little project: sit down and write a list of the things on which you spend money that are directly and solely attributable to your offspring. Put a rough price on each item. Add up the amounts. Now subtract the said offspring from your world.

LOOK HOW MUCH MONEY YOU HAVE!!!

Babysitters can get part-time jobs as adult sitters, looking after people who can go out and get rat-arsed safe in the knowledge that their ‘sitter’ will be driving them home at the end of the VERY LONG night, and will make sure they’re safely tucked up in bed.

Disney can get rid of their saccharine-sweet back catalogue and concentrate on making movies for us grown-ups. (Of course this does have a downside: Marandina will have to find another niche to write about.) And while we’re on the topic…

No-one need EVER go to Disneyland again! (unless they really want to)

Disposable nappies will become a lost memory and the world will sigh its relief…forests will sing with joy and landfill sites will shrink by half.

There will still be poo, but everyone knows there’s nothing as bad as baby poo…and THERE WON’T BE ANY…EVER AGAIN!!!

Now, in the spirit of the Write-Off Challenge set by Pumpkin, Lil_Miss_Pink and 29th Candidate, I would like to offer the above heartfelt rant in the style of the Republican Candidate for East Cheam and a small part of California…

There once was a couple who said
These children will make us see red
With their screams and their shouting
Their sulks and their pouting
I think they’d be better off dead

Just look at the mess they are making
Pretending they’re cooking and baking
Let’s send them to play
On the big Motorway
And soon their remains we’ll be raking

The world would be better off folkless
We’re putting it under too damn much duress
If we off all the kids
Put our race on the skids
Ma Nature will be free to do less

Take a sniff of malodorous nappy
One that’s quite runny and crappy
Get shot of all those
Stop holding your nose
And start getting fatally happy

We only breed young for our old age
To keep us and pay for our dotage
If we all hold our nerve
And give breeding a swerve
We’ll be sending the Gods a strong message

Let’s give back the Earth to its owners
For us it’s only a loaner
We should clean up our act
Let’s bow out with some tact
(I’m ashamed of this godawful groaner)

There. Truly appalling and contentious too. Send your stinky nappies to: Gladys Pugh of 23 Acacia Avenue, East Cheam. I blame the weather myself.

 
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