Many years ago there lived a man, we’ll call him Jake. Now Jake was blessed with many children. One of his sons, Joe, was born very late in Jake’s life. As a result, just like many baby’s of the family, Joe was a bit spoiled.
For Joe, this was awesome. It meant a TV in his room, all the latest GameStation games, and qPod devices... not to mention the latest designer threads. However, what he didn’t realize was that his siblings despised him because of his special treatment.
On top of that, Joe began making up stories about how his brothers were all bowing down to him. At this, Joe’s brothers wanted to kill him, literally... so they did... almost. They roughed him up a bit, faked his death, and handed him over to some unsavory characters that said they could ‘make him disappear.’
It seems that my worst fears have been realized. I’ve been told that the first step in the healing process is admitting that you have a problem. So I admit to you now, that I’m becoming a Brony.
What, you may ask, is a Brony? Well... if you take a trip through the neckbeard infested nether regions of the internet, you will find out that a Brony is the name given to male fans of the popular animated series know as My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, which primarily targets prepubescent girls.
How did this all happen? Quite easily. You see, all the groundwork was laid. I happen to have two small children, both of the female variety. These children happen to be obsessed with My Little Ponies. These children also happen to have access to netflix, and 52 episodes of glimmering pony greatness... It was only a matter of time before my defenses came down.
I must admit, I found the ParaNorman olympics commercials rather amusing, and I also tend to like visually darker movies like 9 as well as the stop motion found in movies like The Fantastic Mr. Fox... so, I am more than happy to share some ParaNorman stuff with you guys.
Ah... back to school time. It’s that time of year that either pulls at the heartstrings, or has parents jumping for joy. Whether you’re sending Timmy to a world filled with dioramas or dorm rooms, there’s no denying the electricity in the air as summer comes to an end.
So are you ready? Are your kids ready? Have you set them up to succeed? What will Timmy do when he is offered his first beer bong? What will Sally do when the other little girls tell her that Suzy’s not cool enough to hang out with? Will they get terrible grades? The other afternoon, after asking my eldest tax deduction to put her shoes on, I began to contemplate these very questions (minus the beer bong one... she better not be consuming alcohol en mass at any age, let alone the age of 6).
Kids are the ultimate trolls. Unfortunately, I don’t mean the mythical beings rooted in Norse mythology. If that were the case, at least they could be dealt with accordingly, like drawing them out into the sunlight and rendering them harmless. However, they are the type of troll that speaks or acts with the primary intent of provoking an emotional response or otherwise disrupting normal on-topic discussion.
This may seem harsh, but I’m not just talking about my kids... it’s all kids, every last one of them. Here are just a few reasons why:




