Tuesday, August 25, 2009

smells like teen spirit

i have had the privilege of spending large quantities of time around high school kids recently. I HATE them. i hate them more now than i did then.

have you ever seen secondhand lions? well the oldest brother/uncle beats the crap out of a bunch of sassy punk kids after checking himself out of the hospital refusing treatment for having had a heart attack. after disarming them and beating them senseless he goes on to give them the talk.

thats the talk where he explains what a man is and what life is all about.

it seems to me that there is a whole lot of punks looking to get themselves a whoopin and a talkin.

i dont mean to be a downer here. and i am well aware of my teenage shortcomings. but i simply have zero tolerance for disrespectful attitudes and absolute ignorance of life.

if i may? if i knew then what i know now... i would have gladly welcomed the violence of an angry oldtimer and the reprimand to boot.

at this point i find myself with only two things to hope for. 1. i dont end up in jail for battering a minor. 2. i dont hate my own children for being teenagers.

i suppose prayer is in order now. i probably shouldnt be day dreaming about dismantling unruly obnoxious adolescents. although it has been good motivation/inspiration for my demolition work. at least i have a healthy outlet. work.

ok well now that i have revealed to you a glint of my darkside,that is violence, i should probably reign it in a bit before i get all scary on you. thankfully the lord has given me control over the action. he has also given me a 180/90 blood pressure. im like the incredible hulk. except i usually smile when the rage sets in. if i am angry with an angry face. things are just fine. if i am angry and i look deliriously happy, im out for blood. im not sure where the line is or what triggers it, but i cant feel the blood pulsing in my whole body and frankly i feel a little high. or something like it. and then out comes the crazy green dude.

ok i said i was gonna stop so i am. im done. finished.

there was this one time, (interestingly it involved a foul mouthed punk teenager) i was trying to put the kids in the van. our neighbors at the time had a teenage girl. and so these thug gangsta boys kept coming over and playing Mr bad boy. unfortunately for them i was Mr. bad boy and they just hadnt realized. at first i asked they please censor the language and content when my small children were within in the yard. i was courteous and respectful even though they didnt deserve it. not one day later billy decided to drop every bomb imaginable and reference his personal places all in one retarded sentence. my children and i were only a few feet away getting into our van and as the monologue began. only a moment later when blood started shooting out of my eyeballs i turned and told him he was done and to leave in such a way that literally every door on the block flung open with concerned neighbors. the little boy said what sounded like "you aint my daddy" and so i pursued him and detained him and informed him that if i was his daddy hed have more sense than someone who'd offend and insult a a violent convicted felon who'd gladly sit in jail for the opportunity to sweep the sidewalk with his face if it meant the next time he came near my children hed have the decency to not be a tru 2 life gangsta from hicktown usa for five minutes.

im not proud of that. but he did shut up with out my having to injure him.

im a lover, and a fighter. and i love a good fight. :)


  1. Whoa there, hulk. C'mon now, let's not scare away all our friends. There is such a thing as tmi, amen?

    It's funny to me that you come across as being so angry and scary...being that you are the sweetest, most caring guy I know. Maybe that just adds to your allure as a Mexican. Now you can be the Big Angry Mexican, no?

    Of course, if I was stuck in a public high school all day and could only observe the extreme stupidity of a bunch of worldly teens, and not be able to do anything to help or guide them, I would probably come away feeling pretty durn frustrated. Maybe next time you blog about it, you can use more friendly words to describe your extreme frustration and heartache towards our crumbling youth...for example, instead of "dark side" how about "shadowy side"...instead of "violent" how about "meanie-beanie"...instead of "blood shooting out of eyeballs" how about "I put on my 'Daddy means business' face".

    See? Much nicer image and people feel less creeped out. Just something to consider. Love you, darling.

  2. Yesterday at the park, some punk kids were grouped under the pavilion right next to the playground spewing forth their obscenities. Shortly after they began, I walked over, amazed at my calm resolve, and told them as succinctly and as kindly as I could muster but in what I thought to be rather cool, collected lingo for someone like me that they needed to watch what they say because little kids are around. (Although I looked them straight in the eye and said it much cooler than that.)

    As a rule, when things like this happen, my BP soars and I feel like I want to strangle these punks.

    But this time it was all calm. Frankly, dude, I don't know why. But it was.

    Or maybe I do.

    I figure that's a small, dinky, infinitesimal, barely-there glimpse of what it must be like to feel God's undying grace.

    I'm nothing but a punk-ass piece of...well, you know. Please don't hate me, hulk. But you get my drift. I don't deserve God's grace any more than the next guy. But He tossed my sin aside and He gave it to me.

    My sin is just as foul and dirty as the bombastic plague that is coming out of those kids' mouths. I don't deserve Him. Never did. Never will. But He loves me just the same. Man, how could He ever do that? WHY would He ever do that? What gives me the right?

    I have none. I have no right. And there He goes with His grace again. Because he loves me. Why He ever would so much I'll never know, but He does. So on a good day, I'll stand there and not claim the beast within. Cuz frankly I'd much rather rip the punks to shreds for being so calloused and haughty. But from now on, I can't and, God, please don't let me. Because I'm not any better than they are. Maybe worse.

    And then maybe one of those kids will turn around and say, "Hey, what's so different about you? Why don't you hate me?" And then I'll have to talk the talk. And pray that they bite.

  3. Maybe not a proud moment but I'd have paid money to see the look on "billy's" face. :-)

  4. I don't think that there is much of a chance of your kids turning out to be obnoxious ignorant teens - that is largely a product of parents that are unengaged, uninformed, or parents that are themselves obnoxious and ignorant. Contrary to popular opinion, teen rebellion is not a necessary phase - it can be headed off years ahead of time.

    And a suggestion from a friend - perhaps a post posting edit is in order, per Chris' suggestions etc. - this might not be the best WWW material :) - it could be twisted in unpleasant ways by an unfriendly individual. (Say in the way of the politics of personal destruction etc.)

    And a parents educational choice can have a major impact in this area - I think you have that well in hand :)