http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Tracksuits
It seems we have come to one of those moments when your good Captain has to remind you of something. On this occasion, the correct times to wear a full tracksuit
Never.
So stop it. all of you. Wrong! You can never, ever wear a full tracksuit in public. Never
Well okay next to never.
There are a few very select occasions when it would be permissible to garb yourself to head to toe in matching clothing of stretchy material
It is juts plain wrong turning our children into an army of tracksuit wearing slobs. This must stop now. Who is this generation going to grow up to be? There's enough people in the Western Suburbs we don't need more moving out there so they can blend in
But what can they wear in its place Captain? I hear you cry
The Kaftan.
Stylish, timeless, magnificent. Warm in winter and cool in Summer and wonderfully gender unifying as well as making Australia's a truly multicultural nation. The design options make it ideal for schools to show their colors in one more step back to the good old days of tribalism. Obviously the really forward thinking schools will replace the national anthem with one of Kamahls latest and greatest and on special occasions a school rendition of Goldfinger with everyone wearing the schools uniform of Shirley Bassey wigs.
Hell while we are at it lest make kaftans the clothes of choice for national sports teams, too! Why not? Who doesn't want to see Punter rocking the green and gold kaftan? No one, that's who. When you think of it there is much more advertising space on the kaftan so obviously those corporate hoars sportsmen making a little extra can now make more. Goody.
The kaftan is just win-win
In short. Full tracksuits=bad. Kaftan=win
The post was written by the Captain wearing his favorite Batik print royal blue full length (with stitched hem) kaftan.
Incidentally the Captain is always open to promoting things on his kaftan but must point out he doesn't leave the house and when he does he generally clotheslines bike riders, hisses at people and talks to dogs
Never.
So stop it. all of you. Wrong! You can never, ever wear a full tracksuit in public. Never
Well okay next to never.
There are a few very select occasions when it would be permissible to garb yourself to head to toe in matching clothing of stretchy material
- You are in a sports team. On this occasion you are allowed to wear it to and from the game and when you are sitting on the bench. No other times. Never. Ever . Also once retired from afore mentioned team you are not allowed to frame it to put it up in your den. It is not a moose you shot in the woods. It is a silly garment.
- You are contractually obliged to wear it. Then you are money hungry bastard you deserve all the scorn that can be poured on you for wearing such an insult to fashion and style everywhere. Go and choke on your sports drink.
- You are Snoop Dogg and you are awesome We obviously do not need to spend any time discussing the afore mentioned awesomeness of the Dogg. he is allowed to wear a full tracksuit and when he and I start on our spoken word and rap tour " The Captain and the Dogg; Rhymes, rants and racey ladies" then I too will be allowed to wear a full tracksuit. Only then.
- You are at home Obviously if you are residing on Club Couch then of course you can rock out the full tracksuit. In fact zipperless attire is the dress code of the club. Obviously when the pizza arrives you will have to change into a nice pinstripe suit but at all over times Club attire is comfy clothes, if not Defcon Pajamas time.
- You are Italian Well they can seem to rock it as a look. Although you need to be the stylish sort of Italian and not the guy who runs my local deli
It is juts plain wrong turning our children into an army of tracksuit wearing slobs. This must stop now. Who is this generation going to grow up to be? There's enough people in the Western Suburbs we don't need more moving out there so they can blend in
But what can they wear in its place Captain? I hear you cry
The Kaftan.
Stylish, timeless, magnificent. Warm in winter and cool in Summer and wonderfully gender unifying as well as making Australia's a truly multicultural nation. The design options make it ideal for schools to show their colors in one more step back to the good old days of tribalism. Obviously the really forward thinking schools will replace the national anthem with one of Kamahls latest and greatest and on special occasions a school rendition of Goldfinger with everyone wearing the schools uniform of Shirley Bassey wigs.
Hell while we are at it lest make kaftans the clothes of choice for national sports teams, too! Why not? Who doesn't want to see Punter rocking the green and gold kaftan? No one, that's who. When you think of it there is much more advertising space on the kaftan so obviously those
The kaftan is just win-win
In short. Full tracksuits=bad. Kaftan=win
The post was written by the Captain wearing his favorite Batik print royal blue full length (with stitched hem) kaftan.
Incidentally the Captain is always open to promoting things on his kaftan but must point out he doesn't leave the house and when he does he generally clotheslines bike riders, hisses at people and talks to dogs
Photographs of your kids
yor Fuck You, and Fuck Your Kid’s Wallet Sized Photographs
A guest post by Angry Trvel Gurl
Last night, I had the great pleasure of dining at my mother-in-law’s house, where, my sister-in-law, (who is my arch enemy) started boring me with the details of her two children’s most recent photo shoot. Now, mind you, these children have had professional photographs taken, literally, every three months since they were born. Not counting all the cutesy iPhone pics in between all these sessions. To this I ask: why?
Seriously. Fucking why?
Why do your children need to be photographed every three months like clockwork? Are you that afraid they will be ‘napped within the three month period and you need their most recent photo for the John Walsh Brand Child Tracker Program? (God forbid something horrible ever befall my niece and nephew.) And more importantly: whyshould I give a damn about your kid’s pictures? How does this directly impact me and my day-to-day ability to survive?
“The sitting fee was only $75.00!” She gushed, “And the photos so affordable! She gave us a special rate, and we only paid $230 for everything! (Sitting fee not included.) I’ll be sure you get a wallet size picture, okay?”
Goddammit.
I cannot begin to count the number of wallet sized photos I have of these kids. At least thirty. Probably more. From Christmas, Easter, Halloween, birthdays, more Christmas, random summer portrait sessions, and many more. And each time, I dump the photo in my office, and it eventually gets thrown into a filing cabinet drawer.
Why do I need these? I don’t. I remember what your kids look like. I see them at least once a month, and you post pictures of them on Facebook EVERY FIVE FUCKING MINUTES. And then, you send me e-mail copies of all the pictures you post on Facebook.
“That’s okay,” I said, “We don’t need one, I’ll just print a copy from Facebook.” (Lie.)
“YOU’RE GETTING A WALLET PICTURE!” Sister-in-law roared, as her skin melted away to reveal a demon of the most horrific magnitude, and she leapt across the table,
karate chopping me, severing my spine and draining me of my life force.
(I got better.)
You know what I hate even more than wallet sized photos of my nephew and niece? People at work who whip open their wallets to show me their wallet sized pictures of their children/grandchildren. I DON’T FUCKING CARE! I’m trying to do my job here, and looking at pictures of your snot-nosed ginger grandkids is not helping me make a paycheck! Fuck off!
Last week, a manager skipped up to my desk with a POSTER SIZED photo of her child. That’s right. POSTER SIZED. WHY? I promise you right now my parents never had poster sized pictures of me, thank God. I’d be mortified. Can you imagine your kindergarten photo, blown up, POSTER SIZED? Me with my front tooth missing and all the freckles and frizzy hair?
AHHH!! AHHHHHHH!!!!
“ISN’T SHE ADORABLE??” The manager gushed, thrusting the poster in my face.
Another question I hate. Especially if your kid is ugly. Like this one. Seriously, I’m not a baby hater or anything, but I call ‘em like I see ‘em. And this kid is ugly. If it wasn’t for the pink feather boa and lacy white headband the kid was wearing, you wouldn’t know if it was a boy or a girl. The child is
18 months, and still has no hair. This freaks me out. No idea why, but it doesn’t seem natural. It’s like a Chucky doll or something.
“Erm, yes, she’s lovely,” I say, trying to turn back to my paperwork. “LOOK!” Says manager, shoving a portfolio in my face, “THE PHOTOGRAPHER TOOK OVER 100 SHOTS, AND I WEEDED THE PHOTOS DOWN TO 75, LET’S LOOK AT EACH AND EVERY ONE, OKAY?!”
“Okay,” I sob quietly, while trying to tie a noose out of my phone cord.
Seriously parents? Just stop with the photographs. How can you afford this shit, anyway? Recession, my ass. If we get parents to stop whoring out their kids to photogs, I promise you, we can pay China back our national loans like, ASAP.
Reporting live from the battlefield, this is AngryTrvlGurl
I agree totally. One of the reasons I left facebook. That an every fracker wanting me to feed their cows on Farmville. One of my main problems with friends offspring is their middle names, they always introduce to the world using all names and I spend the first five years of their life not remembering which name is the one to use. In other slightly related news, I have implemented a policy that if the kid can't say "why are you so grumpy Uncle Captain Ranty Pants then they are no good to me. Captain Angry Ranty Pants
A guest post by Angry Trvel Gurl
Last night, I had the great pleasure of dining at my mother-in-law’s house, where, my sister-in-law, (who is my arch enemy) started boring me with the details of her two children’s most recent photo shoot. Now, mind you, these children have had professional photographs taken, literally, every three months since they were born. Not counting all the cutesy iPhone pics in between all these sessions. To this I ask: why?
Seriously. Fucking why?
Why do your children need to be photographed every three months like clockwork? Are you that afraid they will be ‘napped within the three month period and you need their most recent photo for the John Walsh Brand Child Tracker Program? (God forbid something horrible ever befall my niece and nephew.) And more importantly: whyshould I give a damn about your kid’s pictures? How does this directly impact me and my day-to-day ability to survive?
“The sitting fee was only $75.00!” She gushed, “And the photos so affordable! She gave us a special rate, and we only paid $230 for everything! (Sitting fee not included.) I’ll be sure you get a wallet size picture, okay?”
Goddammit.
I cannot begin to count the number of wallet sized photos I have of these kids. At least thirty. Probably more. From Christmas, Easter, Halloween, birthdays, more Christmas, random summer portrait sessions, and many more. And each time, I dump the photo in my office, and it eventually gets thrown into a filing cabinet drawer.
Why do I need these? I don’t. I remember what your kids look like. I see them at least once a month, and you post pictures of them on Facebook EVERY FIVE FUCKING MINUTES. And then, you send me e-mail copies of all the pictures you post on Facebook.
“That’s okay,” I said, “We don’t need one, I’ll just print a copy from Facebook.” (Lie.)
“YOU’RE GETTING A WALLET PICTURE!” Sister-in-law roared, as her skin melted away to reveal a demon of the most horrific magnitude, and she leapt across the table,
karate chopping me, severing my spine and draining me of my life force.
(I got better.)
You know what I hate even more than wallet sized photos of my nephew and niece? People at work who whip open their wallets to show me their wallet sized pictures of their children/grandchildren. I DON’T FUCKING CARE! I’m trying to do my job here, and looking at pictures of your snot-nosed ginger grandkids is not helping me make a paycheck! Fuck off!
Last week, a manager skipped up to my desk with a POSTER SIZED photo of her child. That’s right. POSTER SIZED. WHY? I promise you right now my parents never had poster sized pictures of me, thank God. I’d be mortified. Can you imagine your kindergarten photo, blown up, POSTER SIZED? Me with my front tooth missing and all the freckles and frizzy hair?
AHHH!! AHHHHHHH!!!!
“ISN’T SHE ADORABLE??” The manager gushed, thrusting the poster in my face.
Another question I hate. Especially if your kid is ugly. Like this one. Seriously, I’m not a baby hater or anything, but I call ‘em like I see ‘em. And this kid is ugly. If it wasn’t for the pink feather boa and lacy white headband the kid was wearing, you wouldn’t know if it was a boy or a girl. The child is
18 months, and still has no hair. This freaks me out. No idea why, but it doesn’t seem natural. It’s like a Chucky doll or something.
“Erm, yes, she’s lovely,” I say, trying to turn back to my paperwork. “LOOK!” Says manager, shoving a portfolio in my face, “THE PHOTOGRAPHER TOOK OVER 100 SHOTS, AND I WEEDED THE PHOTOS DOWN TO 75, LET’S LOOK AT EACH AND EVERY ONE, OKAY?!”
“Okay,” I sob quietly, while trying to tie a noose out of my phone cord.
Seriously parents? Just stop with the photographs. How can you afford this shit, anyway? Recession, my ass. If we get parents to stop whoring out their kids to photogs, I promise you, we can pay China back our national loans like, ASAP.
Reporting live from the battlefield, this is AngryTrvlGurl
I agree totally. One of the reasons I left facebook. That an every fracker wanting me to feed their cows on Farmville. One of my main problems with friends offspring is their middle names, they always introduce to the world using all names and I spend the first five years of their life not remembering which name is the one to use. In other slightly related news, I have implemented a policy that if the kid can't say "why are you so grumpy Uncle Captain Ranty Pants then they are no good to me. Captain Angry Ranty Pants
Children
A guest post from Huge Jerk
I want to punch the world in the face until it makes sense
I have, for my entire life, and some time before that, had parents. Perfect parents? Perhaps not, but pretty damned good ones, definitely. I love my parents, and they love me (so far as I'm aware). This, some will say, again means that I have no authority to speak. These people will find any excuse as to why what I say should be ignored. Perhaps they are right, but what I am about to say is not new. When one person says something that goes against your opinion, perhaps they are a crank. If two people say it, the crank has a friend. But this has been said so many times, by so many people that you should start to think that there might actually be a point to it.
I'm not a violent person. The title of this post may scream otherwise, but truly I'm not. I don't actually want to punch anyone in the face, but I DO want the world to make sense. No, I don't think a collective world face punch, no matter how hard, would actually make that happen.
The world seems to have abandoned common sense. Who needs to think, when you can blame your deficiencies on the big bad internet, or it's older cousin, TV.
Time to get to the point here. Or one of them, at least. No-one can parent your children for you. It is not, and should not, be up to the government to ensure that your darling children don't have access to violent or racy material. If you want to protect your children, do it yourself. The tools are all there to make it easy for you.
For example, if a game is rated MA 15+, then you should not buy it for your seven year old. Period. It isn't suitable. You can't buy the game for your child because all their friends have it, and then get up in arms about it being violent. You get what you paid for. Lobbying to get game content changed to protect your child doesn't actually protect them. It just annoys everyone who can legitimately buy and play the game. Sure, there's no blood now, but your child is still shooting people. All you have done is given them a game where there are no real consequences. You are part of the problem.
When the Wii-zapper came out, I remember seeing posts and rants about how inappropriate it was for children to be given something which resembles a gun. Aside from the fact that similar toys have been on the market for years (can you say "duck hunt"?) these people were correct. It may not be appropriate for children, so don't buy it. The easiest way to protect your children from the evils of the world is to not expose them in the first place.
Which brings me to my next point.
If you dress your children up like skanks, give them dolls which are skanks, and let them watch TV shows or movies that are full of skanks, they will want to act like skanks.
Is that so hard to understand? Cause? Effect? Oh, no, children are having sex because of the paedophiles on the internet, not because you have dressed them like skanks. I may be old fashioned here, but when I was a kid, if something wasn't appropriate for me, I didn't get it. It didn't matter how many of my friends got it, I didn't. Why? Because my parents understood that they made my buying decisions. Sure, I could pitch in a suggestion (or whine a whole heap), but it was their money they were spending.
I did have access to some violent games, and some lewd movies. I'm admitting that right now, in the interest of fairness. They weren't hidden away from me, but at the same time, they weren't handed to me without my parents knowing what they were about. My parents didn't get up in arms later about it. They knew what I was getting into before I got into it. They let me access it when I was old enough to understand it.
I hope that I can parent my future kids even half as well as my parents did me. I'd like to think that I turned out well adjusted. I'm not a sexual deviant, or a rampaging psychopath. I'm actually pretty normal. And that brings me to my final point.
If you accept your children for what they are, then you're more likely to maintain a happy and healthy relationship with them.
It's not rocket science. Kids will be kids. When they grow up, they'll be adults. Don't treat kids as adults, or adults as kids, and it should all be OK.
Nothing new has been said here. I've got no authority to dispense parenting advice until I've had and raised my own kids. This is all common sense, though. I will be following this advice with my children, and hoping that it all works out fine.
Stop blaming other people for your laziness, and we can all get on about our lives. The government isn't there to be your nanny. Stop messing with everyone else's lives to make your own easier.
More angry outpourings from Huge Jerk here
Its true! Kids will be kids unless they are Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrpus or any of the Irwin children then they are obviously wind up toys. Captain Angry Ranty Pants
I want to punch the world in the face until it makes sense
I have, for my entire life, and some time before that, had parents. Perfect parents? Perhaps not, but pretty damned good ones, definitely. I love my parents, and they love me (so far as I'm aware). This, some will say, again means that I have no authority to speak. These people will find any excuse as to why what I say should be ignored. Perhaps they are right, but what I am about to say is not new. When one person says something that goes against your opinion, perhaps they are a crank. If two people say it, the crank has a friend. But this has been said so many times, by so many people that you should start to think that there might actually be a point to it.
I'm not a violent person. The title of this post may scream otherwise, but truly I'm not. I don't actually want to punch anyone in the face, but I DO want the world to make sense. No, I don't think a collective world face punch, no matter how hard, would actually make that happen.
The world seems to have abandoned common sense. Who needs to think, when you can blame your deficiencies on the big bad internet, or it's older cousin, TV.
Time to get to the point here. Or one of them, at least. No-one can parent your children for you. It is not, and should not, be up to the government to ensure that your darling children don't have access to violent or racy material. If you want to protect your children, do it yourself. The tools are all there to make it easy for you.
For example, if a game is rated MA 15+, then you should not buy it for your seven year old. Period. It isn't suitable. You can't buy the game for your child because all their friends have it, and then get up in arms about it being violent. You get what you paid for. Lobbying to get game content changed to protect your child doesn't actually protect them. It just annoys everyone who can legitimately buy and play the game. Sure, there's no blood now, but your child is still shooting people. All you have done is given them a game where there are no real consequences. You are part of the problem.
When the Wii-zapper came out, I remember seeing posts and rants about how inappropriate it was for children to be given something which resembles a gun. Aside from the fact that similar toys have been on the market for years (can you say "duck hunt"?) these people were correct. It may not be appropriate for children, so don't buy it. The easiest way to protect your children from the evils of the world is to not expose them in the first place.
Which brings me to my next point.
If you dress your children up like skanks, give them dolls which are skanks, and let them watch TV shows or movies that are full of skanks, they will want to act like skanks.
Is that so hard to understand? Cause? Effect? Oh, no, children are having sex because of the paedophiles on the internet, not because you have dressed them like skanks. I may be old fashioned here, but when I was a kid, if something wasn't appropriate for me, I didn't get it. It didn't matter how many of my friends got it, I didn't. Why? Because my parents understood that they made my buying decisions. Sure, I could pitch in a suggestion (or whine a whole heap), but it was their money they were spending.
I did have access to some violent games, and some lewd movies. I'm admitting that right now, in the interest of fairness. They weren't hidden away from me, but at the same time, they weren't handed to me without my parents knowing what they were about. My parents didn't get up in arms later about it. They knew what I was getting into before I got into it. They let me access it when I was old enough to understand it.
I hope that I can parent my future kids even half as well as my parents did me. I'd like to think that I turned out well adjusted. I'm not a sexual deviant, or a rampaging psychopath. I'm actually pretty normal. And that brings me to my final point.
If you accept your children for what they are, then you're more likely to maintain a happy and healthy relationship with them.
It's not rocket science. Kids will be kids. When they grow up, they'll be adults. Don't treat kids as adults, or adults as kids, and it should all be OK.
Nothing new has been said here. I've got no authority to dispense parenting advice until I've had and raised my own kids. This is all common sense, though. I will be following this advice with my children, and hoping that it all works out fine.
Stop blaming other people for your laziness, and we can all get on about our lives. The government isn't there to be your nanny. Stop messing with everyone else's lives to make your own easier.
More angry outpourings from Huge Jerk here
Its true! Kids will be kids unless they are Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrpus or any of the Irwin children then they are obviously wind up toys. Captain Angry Ranty Pants
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
