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Humor: God Damned Tattooed Kids Make Me Nuts

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The problem with young people today is that they all have tattoos.

When I was a boy the only people with tattoos were convicts, sailors and circus freaks. And that made sense – it was a warning to keep your distance if you knew what was good for you.

My friends didn’t have “body art”, they had good old fashioned moles and hare lips and freckles and the occasional bruise from where their dads had cuffed ‘em one for talking out of turn.

None of this horseshit barbed wire, spider web and Japanese calligraphy nonsense. It’s a damned atrocity is what it is. They look like a bunch of acid smoking, pot sniffing peacocks – strutting around in their inky finery and scaring decent old folks half way to Hell and back.

And don’t they know you can’t rub ‘em off when you sober up in your thirties and realize that having a naked woman tattooed on your neck isn’t as “awesome” as it was when you were 17? Jesus Christ, when did people start letting teenagers think for themselves? I wasn’t even allowed to use a permanent marker until I was 37.

It’s foolhardy and dangerous I tell you and something needs to be done about it. Because, if this continues it won’t be long before we have a President of the United States with a dragon tattooed across his chest, love and hate written on his knuckles and tear drop inked under his eye. And that’s just wrong.

It’s a god damned outrage is what it is and these crazy kids have no idea the of the havoc they are wreaking.

Tattoos. That’s what’s wrong with young people today.

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Funny Weirdo Haircuts Drive Us Nuts!

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The problem with young people today is that they have crazy haircuts.

In my day, a lad had two choices for a haircut – a crew cut or a flat top and both cost 50 cents. You went to the barber every Saturday morning with your old dad, had your ears raised and were grateful to look like every other kid on your block.

But these young people today. They all want to “express themselves” with their weirdo hairdos!

They walk around with their spiky bangs, corn rows, streaky uplifts, mohawks, faux hawks and wigged out sideburns. It’s a carnival freak show but without the popcorn.

If I had ever come home with a multi-colored mullet and a bum fluff goatee my old dad would have used me as a stump and split a cord of wood on my back.

It’s showy and disrespectful. Plumped and preening like a bunch of randy roosters let loose in a hen house. Disgraceful. I say they should round those damned young people up and sheer them down like the sheep they’re supposed to be.

It’s dangerous I tell you and it leads to anarchy and loose morals. It won’t be long before willy nilly hair styles aren’t enough for them anymore and they start frothing at the mouth, burning down post offices, practicing communism and forcing seniors to sport dreadlocks, rattails, moptops and worse.

And mark my god damned words, when that day comes we are all going to be well and truly sorry.

They have crazy haircuts. That’s the problem with young people today.

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Oh God! Young People Need to Toughen the Hell Up

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The problem with young people today is that they’re too damned soft.

In my day, young people were tough, damn it. We were gristly, sinewy and hard as nails. My generation was forged in a furnace of fiery parents, sweltering outhouses, creamed chip beef and the type of childhood diseases that either killed you or put some damned hair on your chest.

We had to be hard – conditions demanded it. There was no room for mollycoddling and teenaged slackassery. We couldn’t lie around in our underpants all day levelling up in Donkey Kong and text messaging our idiot friends. We were too busy rendering sheep fat, toting ice blocks and extracting our own teeth for that kind of foolishness. Our “down time” was getting dressed up in flour sack suits and attending the funerals of siblings who had died of dust pneumonia.

But these young people today? They’re marshmallows. And the similarity extends beyond their squishy plumpness and incredible lack of taste. Most have never done a lick of honest work and wouldn’t recognized a calloused palm if you clapped them across the ear with one.

They don’t understand what it means to sacrifice or to go without. For them, sacrifice is eating an unfrosted pop tart, fornicating with an unflavored condom or settling for less than an unlimited phone plan. Take away their cushy duvets, parental fawning and Junior Shopper credit cards and they wouldn’t last 5 damned minutes in the cold hard world.

And they’re emotionally soft too. Call a young person a worthless ninnyhammer and he’ll whinge, cry and fold up like a house of cards just to prove you right. Criticism’s considered some form of abuse instead of what it’s supposed to be – a practical assessment of your obvious limitations and some damned motivation to prove me wrong.

Face facts, this country is deep in the toilet and one flush away from becoming “Runningdoghai” the 23rd Province of the People’s Republic of China. If we ever want to return our nation to its former glory we need to stop raising a generation of spongy cry-babies and get back to work on hardening our resolve, our bodies and our minds.

They’re too damned soft. That’s the problem with young people today.

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Sensible Careers – A Joke!

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It’s high time we brought back good old fashioned jobs like costermongers, spittleman, wheeltappers, pettifoggers, pig jobbers, quarrel pickers and knock knobblers.

American Barbershop Idol

Surely to God we’ve exhausted this nation’s supply of caterwauling nancy boys and are ready to bring some damned decent singing back to the national stage. Four part harmonies plus straw boaters equals toe-tapping, good clean family fun.

Cursive Writing

And I don’t mean swearing. I mean putting pen to paper. They may be able to text 80 words a minute but ask them write a sentence longhand and it comes out looking like something a chimp would produce with a pointed stick and mitt full of mashed blackberries.

The Power of Positive Gumption

All this new age, positive-thinking hokum smacks me as being the worst kind of bumph since Clark Stanley sold his first bottle of snake oil elixir back in 1893.

Positive thinking as a means to an end is like the American Dream – it’s fine in theory but really only helpful to those with good genes, rich families and access to a decent education. For everyone else – it’s sleight of hand and empty platitudes.

For 2012, instead of folks assuming they can set their life right with little more than a combination of visualizations, affirmations and positive mental brainwaves, I’d like to see people attempting to set reasonable goals and then achieving them through a combination of hard work, determination and the power of positive gumption.

Enjoy your New Year’s Eve but keep the damned noise down. I’ll be in bed by 9:30.

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