Well, I guess we could flip a coin.

29 02 2008


Earlier, I was talking to my girlfriend (future co-Schroederist Kelly) about babies, when she happened to bring up the details surrounding her birth. It seems that she wasn’t the easiest child to bear (no, she wasn’t horned or fat), and during her birth, there arose a relatively common but frightful phenomenon. In addition to other issues, she had become entangled in her umbilical cord, and was strangling.

The doctor, a man no doubt renowned for being a total jackass, asked her father, Guillermo*, one of the most obscenely tactless and insensitive questions I’ve ever heard. He said, “If it comes down to it, who would you rather I save?”**

My first thought–unvoiced until now–upon hearing that was, “What the fuck is wrong with that man?” I’m not up-to-date with my physician’s ethics, but I’m pretty sure that falls into the category of “Bedside Manner for Doctors Who Enjoy Being Shot in the Stomach”.

I don’t even understand the mentality behind the asking of such a stupid thing. What are you supposed to say, “Well, Doc, what’s market value on infants these days?” 

To Guillermo’s eternal credit, he responded, “I can’t make that decision.”

Anyway, when Kelly and I have children, whatever complications arise, I hope to never be confronted with a similar situation. I can handle the stress and terror, but I would sincerely hate to go to jail for circumcising a grown man during the birth of my child.

*Guillermo was a Mexican immigrant–also a college student and revolutionary, which is pretty awesome–who then became a Canadian citizen to better ease his American nationalization. Pretty crafty.

**Honestly, I don’t see how there could be an option. It’s not a fucking Lady and the Tiger scenario.


News and items of interest

29 02 2008

Chemical Ali to be executed; somewhere, Mineral Mohammed laughs Iraqi gas man’s execution has been approved by Iraqi President Something Al-Unpronounceable. This has led speculators to wonder how the Power and Light company will fare next month.

Isrealis threaten holocaust, and even Hitler’s ghost cringes at the tastelessness Some people just seem to lack the capacity to understand that holocaust jokes are out this season. A Palestinian representative was quoted earlier today as saying, “How many dead babies does it take to fill up a dump truck?”

McCain set to win Ohio. Next stop: Bingo at the KC hall Fashionably elderly presidential candidate John McCain–despite pervasive rumors of being very, very old–nonetheless set his sights on winning over voters in Ohio. An Ohio political organizer was heard to remark, “I love election years. It’s nice to have people realize we still exist.”

In related news, McCain has chosen his new campaign slogan, “Yippee ki-yay, middle-Westerners.” This is in reference to a movie he’s never seen, as it included distateful things like “talking” and “not nearly enough choreographed dance”.

Okay, so maybe all those jokes about the British monarchy were a little hasty.

28 02 2008
Holy British monarchy, Batman!

 Anybody recognize this guy? I’ll give you a hint: his mother was killed in a widely publicized automobile accident, and his father is unconscionably ugly.

Give up? It’s Prince Harry, guys. This kid:


Evidently, he’s now serving in the British Army in Afghanistan. Now, before I start cracking jokes about an heir to the British throne cooking gruel, or shining shoes–or whatever the hell they do in the British Army–let me say this: this little fucker is going to be on the front line. With the regular army.

I’m being completely serious when I say that I find that to be several kinds of awesome.

No, really. Not because it’ll be horribly amusing when he gets shot to death, but because of the romance of it all. Just think about that for a second, if you will: handsome young prince goes off to strange foreign land to battle an immense and unbeatable enemy, all the while disguised as a common knight. That makes me a wee bit jealous, actually.

Now, when he does come home in a Union Jack-draped box, it shouldn’t be all that surprising. He’s the son of the immensely foppish Prince of Wales, for God’s sake. You know, this guy:

Far be it from me to criticize. I mean, he is the next king of all England.

Anyway, cheers, Harry. And good luck, too.

God knows you’re going to need it.

Something old, but it’s not bad…

28 02 2008

Your Man-Crush on Christian Bale Does Not Mean You’re Gay


Look, it’s because he’s Batman. Grow up.

Sure, being completely entranced by another man may seem like it’s chock full of homosexual drama, but does it really signify your latent homosexuality? I kind of always thought that sort of thing manifested itself through other means, like being an enormous asshole, or commenting on Digg articles.

Below, we’ll discuss the main reasons why straight men across the globe are looking inward and questioning everything they thought they knew about themselves as a result of Mr. Bale’s undeniable awesomeness. Before we get to that, let us just say this: no matter how gay you end up being because of Christian Bale, we still love and respect you. But not in a gay way.

1) He’s “sexy”. Of course, at first glance, this line of reasoning might not seem that solid, but if you think about it, you’ll see what we’re driving at. Christian Bale’s massive physique is unquestionably impressive, and women find that sort of thing attractive. To be duly impressed by such physical prowess is not gay in nature, it’s purely aesthetic appreciation and strategic planning. Just because we spend long hours staring at those glorious pecs doesn’t mean we want him; it just means we’re trying to get that image stuck in our minds for when we go to the gym. Yes, we’re going to the gym, but we’re not going to talk to anyone, or even change out of our loose-fitting, unrevealing sweathclothes.

2) He’s committed to his art. Another notch in the belt of things that are impressive about Christian Bale is his utter dedication to his life’s work of acting. For a guy to lose seventy pounds to play a schizophrenic skeleton, and then gain another one hundred of solid muscle to play a manic-depressive crimefighter, well, excuse us if we’re a little bit awed by that. Considering that the prospect of hot women isn’t enough to make most guys trim a measly fifteen pounds after the holidays, the fluctuation of one-hundred-seventy pounds in less than a year for the sheer purpose of acting is something worth admiring in a man. Even by other men.

3) He’s Batman. If you ignore everything else about the guy, keep this fact in mind before you judge us: not only is he Batman-the most acessible superhero ever-he’s also the best Batman ever. Out of the four theatrical Batmen*, the most likely to kick the ever-loving shit out of you, in real life or while dressed in a form-fitted rubber suit, is most certainly Christian Bale. We could understand it being gay if we had a man-crush on George Clooney**, or maybe Val Kilmer, but those guys don’t hold a candle to Bale. Besides, since when is it gay to like rich, handsome men who dress up in black latex and caper around in the night with youthful boys*** in tight spandex?

*Note that anyone who ever had a crush on Michael Keaton, male or female, is probably either blind or criminally insane. The man was Beetlejuice, for God’s sake.

**Note that being madly attracted to George Clooney is a completely normal side-effect of having eyes, or watching Ocean’s Eleven. It might be gay, but it’s kind of unavoidable.

***Okay, we get the whole “he plays with Dick in the middle of the night” joke. We get it. Jesus.

4) Two words: American Psycho. If you haven’t seen it, the whole concept of the movie lies with this guy who runs around killing the shit out of pretty much everything. In the end, we find out that he was imagining the whole thing, but still-he really fucked stuff up. Even if you discount all that because it was imaginary, there’s this: traditionally, the only people attracted to guys who appear to be completely normal, but are in fact raving psychopaths, are women. Yes, we realize that sounds gay, too. But, if you think about it, who’s the nuttiest psycho you can think of that gay men were drawn to? Jeffrey Dahmer? John Wayne Gacy? Come on, those guys aren’t even in the same neighborhood as normal. Finding that sort of dangerous side in a man attractive doesn’t make you gay, it makes you, well… Shit. A potential victim? Hell, we don’t know.

An “I’m stuck at home because my car sucks” Post

28 02 2008

And certainly not the last of these, I can tell you. In the meantime, I’d like to talk about something near and dear to my heart.


Fat people.

I live in Texas, the fattest state in the nation, and also the one with the highest population of Mexican-American citizens. Those two facts, contrary to what you might be thinking, have more in common than most people realize. It seems that Hispanics–specifically Mexicans, I’m not kidding–comprise the second-largest demographic of overweight Americans. I mean “largest” in terms of sheer numbers, not that they’re the second-fattest, because the research suggests that they’re numero uno in that department.

It must be the tortilla-based diet, or something.

My girlfriend is half Mexican, and is considerably smaller than the average whole Mexican. (She’s a whole person, by the way, not jus half-a-Mexican) She’s actually a lot taller–around 6 feet, in fact–but her weight is appropriate to her height, and her BMI is around low-normal. Surely, the addition of “white” genes has nothing to do with this, since my own grandpa died weighing over three-hundred pounds, and measuring maybe 5′ 10″. Maybe.

So what is it? What makes Mexicans so prone to obesity?

When you factor in the issue of economic positions, it makes even less sense than before. If you’re poor, you’re probably not fat. If you are fat and poor, maybe a slight change in diet might alter your bank account balance slightly. Otherwise, I’m lost as to the answer to this question.

Any ideas?


Lest anyone cry foul and call me a racist, here’s some stats for you. What has to be the laziest site on the internet*  states it pretty plainly right there in black and white.

* Yes, that was a fat joke. Sue me.

The very first thing I ever published

28 02 2008

Not that I have some lengthy legacy, or anything, but this is the first of any of the things I’ve written to get published. It’s long, and I kind of lose steam through the middle of it, but hey–it’s something, right?

Anyway, for posterity, here’s:

Parenting For a New Century

By Kenneth W. Schroeder, Esq.

 Okay, since I don’t have any children of my own, I feel qualified to write this how-to in the utmost objective manner possible. Children are a nuisance- screaming, snot-nosed vortices of food and money whose sole mission is to disappoint and slowly leach their parents of money and the will to live.

 The biggest downside, as I see it, is that these awful creatures are often allowed to grow into a much larger physical state, while little or no effort is made to change them from the ego-centric little assholes they were when they were children.

Parents, I am here to change all of that.

 Utilizing the latest cutting-edge techniques in child psychology and combining them with the age-old art of “beat ’em now, beat ’em later” jiu-jitsu parenting, I have devised the perfect solution to the eternal issue of having people who look like you but are otherwise savage, unholy maniacs.

Chapter One- The Early Years

Step 1- When, at an early age, a child shows the slightest inclination to question your omnipotence, use any and all short-range weapons in your arsenal. Ashtrays, telephones, beloved family pets- anything that will clearly illustrate this concept to their under-developed, spongy brains.

Step 2- You may have noticed a strange phenomenon occurring whenever you go into the back yard to feed your kids. They have increased in size, and seem to attempt the formation of rudimentary language skills. This is certainly not what the proactive parent desires in an offspring.

 After administering the above treatment, which you should be doing at least three times a day at this point, bring the child or children into the house to begin their education regimen. If your spawn are too noisy, fat, incontinent or any combination of the three, feel free to perform this exercise outside or perhaps in the garage.

 Place each large-headed, drooling cretin in front of a television set. Apply restraint devices if necessary. Tune into a channel that airs no fewer than five reality television series, or three consecutive hours of celebrity/hip-hop “insider” programming. Rinse and repeat.

Step 3- If, during the course of their formative years, you should have to venture out into public with these lowbrow miscreants in tow, fear not, there is hope. 

 A simple, effective strategy to ensure proper behavior is to bring along a certain item of which the breathing growths have become fond. Whether it’s a doll, a squeaky frog or a shiny rock, the same technique is advised. Threaten the well-being of said artifact constantly- in the garage while you’re attaching the choke collars, in the car (assuming they can still hear you from the trunk), even at your intended destination.

 If your lumps are so dull as to have connected on no discernible level with anything, bring the toy along anyway, only this time you should substitute threatening the object with repeatedly thrashing the child. This will ensure their absolute subservience while among normal people. The true genius of this method is the fact that should you yourself have to leave the room, the toy may be left behind as a menacing sentinel.

 Given your child’s limited understanding of, well, anything, they will not grasp the concept of an inanimate object’s inability to harm them- in the beast’s eyes, the object is just as dangerous and malcontent as you, the attack dog in your bedroom, or the door to the refrigerator.

Step 4- Bathing. This is an inadvisable and fruitless chore. If they must be cleansed of the remaining chunks of food, excreta and other assorted wastes, simply move the cage closer to your outdoor trash receptacles. The flies will do most of the work, and your beloved tax write-offs will enjoy a healthy, delicious snack.

 Thus concludes the first installment of my Parenting for A New Century series. Feel free to write me if you have any suggestions or comments. Be sure to catch the next chapter, Adolescence, which contains valuable insights into the lumbering mechanics of the teenage mind. As an added bonus, I will also include helpful tips on the subjects of child labor laws, sexual development, and how to change your burden into a working facet of your burgeoning plantation. Until then, I remain

Kenneth W. Schroeder, Esq.

(Please note that Mr. Schroeder, while brilliant and inventive, is not an actual child psychologist or therapist. His methods have been outlawed in many countries and provinces throughout the known world, and are known to the state of California to cause cancer.)

Parenting For a New Century

 Welcome back friends and neighbors for the second installment of my parenting series. I hope the last chapter was informative and enlightening, and at least moderately witty. Tonight’s lesson deals with those large, odorous organisms known as Adolescents, or in slang terms, “teens”.

Chapter Two- Adolescence and The New Horizon

 By now, should you have kept a studious eye upon your mutating subject, you will have noticed drastic and oftentimes shocking physical and emotional transformations taking place. This is not to say that such metamorphoses are beneficial to yourself or to society, but that this weakened, hormonally charged phase can provide ripe opportunities for conditioning.

 Pavlovian training methods are often utilized in such cases, but I find such principles to be weak and ineffectual. Instead, we shall apply a shocking new theory as yet unheard of in the world of parenting: the Catch and Release ploy.

Step 1: Should your teenage dirtbag become irritable and willful, it is advised that you put an immediate stop to such behavior, as the wooly lump will only increase in size and musculature from this point on.

 With any common household instrument, say a pair of barbecue thongs perhaps, grasp the offending lip and twist until your wrist is perpendicular to the floor, then incline the head to a forty-five degree angle. Now begin a slow march around the room, making absolutely certain to guide your stock directly into the path of low-lying furniture and jutting cabinetry. This ensures that the lesson will be at least slightly absorbed by the porous matter that substitutes for an adolescent brain.

 If your heathen has a certain cosmetic piercing, and in it resides a circular metal object, this process will be made ever-so-much easier. On you, that is. One particular student of mine advocated the application of mild to moderate electrical currents to such jewelry, so you may indeed consider that option.

Step 2- Sexual development is key to the rearing and social adjustment of any normal being. However, in this case we will not address such ludicrous concepts as “development”, since that may very well prove disastrous to the delicate balance of nature. Instead we shall focus primarily on the repression and denial of adolescent sexual desire.

 Should you notice a slight protrusion originating in the pelvic region of your male child, you must immediately douse it with scalding-hot oil. This unhealthy growth can lead to a good many bothersome symptoms such as prolonged restroom occupance, leering at other female members of the species, and the secretion of a highly toxic substance known among feral adolescents as “spunk”.

 Again, and I cannot stress this enough, should you notice such a growth, do not hesitate to dump any boiling liquids or oils into the potentially contagious lap of your hairy embarrassment.

 If you notice said condition and yet presume to possess a female of the species, I urge you to at least have a veterinarian perform a basic physical examination. It could be that, while smartly avoiding close contact, you may have misinterpreted the gender of your beast.

Step 3- Grooming is an important issue among any and all of God’s creatures. The notable exception being of course the male subhuman adolescent, and the female being a slightly better choice between the two, I would suggest trading your ape to a slightly more gullible family in exchange for their “daughter” or pet ferret.

 If you find that no one will make such an exchange, keep things simple when dealing with grooming techniques. The most assured method is to simply beat the mutant until his hair refuses to grow. Or you may attempt to scorch the curly mess with a butane torch, but this has often led to foul-smelling smoke inhalation deaths among parents burdened with enormous, hairy offspring. Stick to what you have already learned from me: “beat ’em now, beat ’em later”. You can’t lose with a mantra like that.

Step 4- Since your rancid pile of love-dumpling has reached a point in his or her life where it is now feasible to begin menial labor, I suggest starting small. Of course I don’t mean small weights, but small concepts, since the brain during adolescence resembles Renee Zellweger’s hind-quarters after being run over by a football team. In other words, dimpled and extraordinarily spongy.

 Physical training begins with tractor tires, or just tractors if you want to speed things along, being strapped on about the neck and then forcefully tugged for great distances. Applying Step One has been rumored to increase productivity ten-fold among the overweight and asthmatic demographics, but has been surprisingly ineffective when used in conjunction with attention disorder medication. That concludes the lesson for the evening, ladies and gentlemen, and be sure to catch my third and final installment called Emptying The Nest: Optimum Height For Optimum Results. Until then, I remain

Kenneth W. Schroeder, Esq.

 (Please note: Mr. Schroeder is not an actual child psychologist, nor is he a therapist by any normal standards. In fact, Mr. Schroeder is a recent parolee who was allowed back into the normal world after teaching a Texas Correctional officer how to properly bludgeon his and others’ infants.)

Parenting for A New Century

  Welcome, desperate parents, to the final installment of my acclaimed series, Parenting for A New Century. I trust my previous posts were sufficient to improve your shamefully inept child-rearing tactics. If not, it is no fault of mine, but that you plainly were not paying any attention. Do not allow this to proceed. I know all, and will smite thee with grievous force. Also, I reserve the right to use any number of negatives in my grammar. You, as a mere mortal and therefore confined to Earthly rules, cannot.

  Thus far we have covered the two primary stages of growth and mutation in the sub-human species of “children”, infancy and adolescence. While my advice is best applied to the male animal, only slight changes are required to fit practically any sex. Of course, by now you might have realized that there are limitless variations of gender among the chromosomally challenged. Rob Schneider and Renee Zellweger, you might be surprised to learn, fall into this category.

Chapter Three- Emptying The Nest

  Although your pitiful loin excreta has technically aged past the adolescent stage, it is likely that he/she/it/they may not have reached a sufficient level of maturity. Fret not, dear follower, for your worries are not long for this world.  In a rare fit of rationality, our government has actually provided in favor of the parent in that, as of age eighteen, you are no longer legally responsible for the ghoul’s well-being. Thank whatever god you wish for such enlightenment. Thank me if you feel it necessary.

  The only remaining issue, if you have not yet succumbed to thrashing your mutant to a nearly dead state, is what you should do to remove them from your domicile. Follow these few guidelines to your deserved liberation.

  Step 1-  If, at any point in your detached “relationship”, you should have purchased items of emotional value to the subject, immediately remove these things to your front yard or fire escape. If you had purchased objects of monetary value, confiscate and pawn them at once. The free ride is over, after all.

  The logical purpose of placing the forever tainted possessions outside of your home is to lure the wet-brain offspring outside. If you did not realize this by now, I feel I must have a stern talking-to with your parents, you clubfooted monster.

  Once the ghoul has exited the vicinity, gather up all remaining soiled artifacts such as clothing, bedding, and carpeting he or she may have tread upon during those rare indoor moments. Burn these things at once, as they will invariably contain gooey, highly contagious, crawling genetic material. If you came into contact with said material, light yourself on fire and leap from the balcony. You are doomed.

Step 2- Assuming you survived step one, you must now set about the task of sealing your home with swift decisiveness. Retreat to your garage or supply closet while the mongoloid is still distracted by the shiny toys and bright lights of traffic.

You will need the following: hammer, nails, two-by-fours, holy water, nail gun, screw gun, shotgun, crucifix, and one huge jug of cheap vodka.

 Begin your work by nailing shut all windows and doors. Air-conditioning vents are also potential avenues of ingress, so the use of roach-bombs or ricin gas is permitted. Once your home is sufficiently secured, begin the ridiculous job of spiritually cleansing your rooms with the crucifix and holy water. Even if you are not a Christian these methods are advised, as both Buddha and Krishna share your shameful child’s physical and mental handicap, and thus might find favor with it instead of you. Besides, everyone knows that God hates the stupid and infirm.

Step 3- With your remaining tools in hand, venture carefully outside to locate the monster. It may seem dangerous or foolhardy, but entice your walking tumor to partake of the vodka, preferably in copious amounts. Allow for appropriate drunkenness to settle in, and retreat to a safe distance.

 Within view of the child, fire the nail gun and screw gun arbitrarily at various objects, people, and animals. If you are of brave constitution, pantomime nailing yourself through the upper thigh or lower colon.

 Place your weapons on the ground no closer than fifty feet from the newly-liberated beast, and back away slowly. While there have been no know instances in which a relatively ambulatory parent has been caught by an advancing mutant-child, safety is always the best bet.

  Once you have reached a safe distance, sprint to your door while keeping a wary eye upon your subject. If you reach the domicile safely, place a chair about six feet from the inside of the door, and ready the shotgun. Wait for no fewer than three hours, as such creatures will invariably forget within this allotted time.  Should you hear screams from outside, and can distinguish them from the idiot-bawl of your child, place an anonymous phone call to your local emergency police and ambulance.

 With any luck, and you shouldn’t honestly need any in light of my exhaustive wisdom, your trials and tribulations are over. Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, and for the love of God-  DO NOT CONTINUE TO PROCREATE!

  Thank you dearly for your time and donations. I trust that you and your significant other will now consider my deification, and I shall gracefully accept your worship.

Kenneth W. Schroeder, Esq.

 (Please note: Mr. Schroeder is not a licensed professional and is, in fact, a degenerate maniac. His teachings have now been outlawed in every nation, province, township and village on this and any other planet, with the single notable exception being Newark, NJ. I pray that you do not follow his advice and turn immediately from his deviant lessons.)

Honestly, I thought her name was Winesack

28 02 2008

I’m not joking–until about five minutes ago, I had always thought of that glassy eyed skank factory Amy Winehouse as Amy Winesack. I don’t know if I heard that somewhere, or if my mind just automatically translated it. It could be either, but I’m guessing it’s the latter. I do the same thing with Carlos Mencia, only it’s not his name, and I can’t say out loud what I actually think about him.

Having said all that, I’ve never heard a single song by Ms. Winehouse. Maybe it’s the fact that I don’t have a working radio in my car, or that the term “songstress” puts me off and I intentially avoid her. I don’t care how bluesy you are, that word makes you sound like a skeevy lounge singer.

Although, honestly, that may be the intention.

It’s not fair of me to judge the woman based on her appearance, I know. I mean, Stevie Ray Vaughn was ugly as sin, and look at his contribution to the blues/soul music scene. Still, though:


More tea, gov’nah?