Thursday, April 14, 2011

The beatings will now commence....

Bust that ass! Thank God almighty! Bust that ass! (presented in the same tone as Martin Luther King's “I Have a Dream” address of 1963) [to those I have offended, Russell's Rules]

Caught a news clip here a couple of night/days ago... would be happy to mention the news crew, but seeing/keeping with the whores-of-the-US campaign, they don't pay my ass to advertise, so I won't mention their name... however, they did give an indication that there is actually hope for the United States yet!

Seems that there are 20 states in the union who have refused to give up (not really the words I would have chosen) on 'capital punishment' in the school system for crimes in the classroom or against the school rules.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, what this means is if your little brat is acting up in the classroom, their teacher can take them out of the class and paddle his/her ass.

I am now taking a laughing break...   Any of you who bothered to read my earlier blogs would already know this and at least hear me out before trying to have me committed or burning me in effigy (or both at the same time). A couple of you other hippies have probably spontaneously combusted which just sent me over the edge in hilarity and only made it harder to type this out. If it's any consolation, I've endured three ass beatings alone from my wife over it.   But then that makes you just as big a hypocrite and now I'm laughing even harder at the line I just typed...

The basics... If your kids were already properly behaving, why did they get their ass' beat in school anyway?

I mean, if your child “would never do such a thing”; yet the teacher, half the class, the principle, the student teacher and the visiting superintendent ALL watched your little abortion-that-got-better set the class mascot on fire...

Fuck the whole 'send the kid to therapy'.   I don't give a shit what deep rooted issues the little bastard has. YOU put those pyro maniacal ides there. Directly or indirectly, thus YOU take care of that at home. The ass-tagging takes care of the school situation. Did, done, over with. Get back to work.

Hippies and bleeding hearts: Fuck Off. Yup. I grew up with the red ass of courage, administered via the 'board-of-education'.   I haven't burned down any villages, raped any women, killed any puppies, tortured any kids (although mine will argue that one), I haven't even burned ants with a magnifying glass. Matter of fact, several of the paddlings I got in school were from fighting. And for your information, you can take that Gepetto enhanced nose your looking down at me with and poke it right up my ass while your at it: those fights were for sticking up for kids that couldn't fight for themselves.

Am I a hero? Nope. Can I prove it? Nope. Does it make me special? Yup. Because I know what it means to keep doing the right thing despite the cost.

So the Bleeds & Hips will yap that all I learned was avoid the behavior in school. To which my retort would be is that you are dead wrong. I got much better at hiding my crimes. Especially when it came to fighting. Bullies were predisposed to being idiot assholes, no matter what. I made it my job to become their target, which is what “I” wanted (sick, right?). So I learned martial arts of all forms and entertained myself in brand new schemes to no end.

Yet the Bleeding Hips are still yapping that it had no affect on me or the bullies I speak of.... That this still has no relevance on teacher violence on students in the classroom or the advancement of our society.

OK, OK, “maybe” you're right... “I” was standing in the trees to give you a proper or fair analysis. It was “my” ass in this little experiment. However, the other kids definitely didn't seem to want to share in the festivities when I went into the hallway as it came time for my ass to serve penance for my contribution for the devil's work. The faculty never seemed to hide their reaction every time I noticed the teacher's eyes, as he/she would bow their head in negative compliance when they would have to render sentence on me; knowing that I stood up for someone lesser physically.

The Bleed Hips don't have to write me & tell me that vigilantes are illegal, I know they are; but when an entire neighborhood of people can hear & see your daughter being raped and murdered and do nothing to get involved...

My point is, I never got swatted for having a wise ass answer for who George Washington was or for playing around in the bathroom (unless it was for plugging up the toilets).

I remember this time, fifth grade. Kid had a tough time growing up. It's not an excuse, we all had a tough time, just some folks around this kid chose not to help him out and this is what we got... One day in class, apparently he is having a rough day. The teacher (male) didn't really like him; this particular day he seemed to be riding him a bit more than usual as well. Teacher was standing basically in the middle of the room, instructed the class to put the work their currently doing away and get their math books out (won't ever forget this); he mutters something to this kid, but I couldn't hear what it was.

I didn't think anything of it, because this teacher always had 'coach' like things to say to the class all the time. Knowing this kid as I did, I can guarantee he countered with a quiet but direct “fuck you”.

WHACK!!! Strait to the floor! The sound of that kid's body hitting the floor was almost the same as that man's open hand against the side of the kid's head.

The classroom went dead silent.  I mean even the clock on the wall didn't hum.  a few seconds passed, the kid rubbed out the knot on the back of his noggon and looked up at the teacher.  The teacher looked down at him and with no malice in his voice, calmly told him to go sit down and get his math books out.  At recess, if he would please, he and the principle would would have a chat.  That was it.  I "NEVER" heard another word about that affair again.

Of course, today's repercussions would be legendary. All the armchair general parents would bloat & boast of a huge pair of nuts and give a grand tail of what kind of beating they would reap on that teacher (which is all bullshit & you people know it). Yet, I find it a great mystery...

Why is it I (statistically) see so many ginger tits, that have everything handed to them, oodles of hugs, mummy & duddy up their asses 24/7 never any truly harsh punishment, turn on them like a starved jackal when the shit hits the fan. Yet I see a young kid that acts like a piece of shit, go into the military (as an example), get treated like the p.o.s. that he/she is, is forced to “earn” even the slightest bit of respect, their meals, their clothes and only then after several years of service, return home to show thanks to his/her folks for their sacrifice (if that's what they really did, sometimes home isn't so hot).

“It's abuse!!!” I can here the Bleeding Hippies pissing & bitching now. “You can't touch my child!!! They don't know better!!! You must show them!!!”  Did you fuckers ever read a history book?  Ever hear of the Hitler Youth?

It's abuse to let your little inbred loose in the class room, robbing everybody of their education too. So how about you pay me for the class time my kid lost while your 'planned parenthood' rebate check shits his pants and while you're at it, cut a check for Homeland Security because the rules say we're not supposed to bodily remove “Whoops, I should have swallowed”...

Take for instance the same news network that aired the fat ass eight year old that got pepper sprayed. One, he got off lucky. Two, his mom should have got sprayed & douched (because pregnancy is the last thing this ignorant bitch needed) because TV broadcast was NOT what this broad needed to prove her case.

My point... Dumb ass is playing pud-fucker of the week and has now brought the wrath of the police on himself for the third time. Spotty as the story is, his ignorant ass started or completed a shiv and brandished at the police. Being a 250lb, prior military individual myself, yes, disarming a portly, stupid ass kid of his weapon and hauling him off to the hoosegow would probably be no problem, but I wasn't there and I haven't been around 'this' particular abortion clinic escapee.

As I am sure the teachers did in my school back in the day with paddling, the cops did with portly fuck, they whipped out the pepper spray and gave him a dose & after he barfed up his chicken nuggets and 6 month old toe jam, they cuffed his ass & hauled him off; all for the educational benefit of the other kids.

“That” is the key element. “The benefit of the other kids.” Beefaroni is already a fuck-up. Between the township, the cops and the third strike with this kid, it is a golden engraved name plaque over this kid's head for the rest of this kid's life. Tub-o-guts for a mother rifling through her redneck idea of Revere Legal Publisher's library of what her kid's rights are supposed to be is bullshit. She proved that after multiple re-runs of the news cast showing she blazed through that month's cash assistance on lottery tickets, so the legal lottery was an obvious stop on her priority list.

I mean where the fuck was she when it came time to teach her kid how to behave in the classroom to begin with? She did great slurring her way through a drunken interview and how the family is on a first name basis with local law enforcement. It's on the world news and everyone in the world forum knows it now. You know, any time China wants a fucking reason to make a margin call on the US' debt loans, I'm sure they won't waste any time drumming up this little gem as a 'proof of intent to work' line item. Way to go...

In all the small towns I grew up in for the longest while, the town bullies knew that I wasn't to be fucked with and at least while class was in session, don't be messing with some of the quiet kids either. The cops may have known my face, but they never knew my name & to the best of my knowledge, they didn't know where I lived; or at least they let me go about my business with that illusion.

Here's my point: EVERYBODY bitches that prison isn't tough enough (sans the guys serving in the lock-up). “You send them in and they just turn right back around and do the same thing all over again...”

Those folks with kids... does this sound familiar? Got an expensive item you don't want them messing with and yet their finger prints are streaked all over it? Bet if you slap the piss out of that hand they'll leave it alone.***

Bottom Line:

I'm not talking about beating the tar out of everybody and every living thing here.

Your child is running into a busy street (don't give me this shit it won't happen either).

ASKING them to come back ain't going to cut it. Fear turns to adrenaline rage of flight, you grab the child at the last second, you might tag that ass and then you stare them in the eyes with the same rage of concern and demand of attention for “THEIR” safety. You probably bellow at them a short lesson about listening to you and like most kids they tear up from confusion & terror.

It's here that you take command of how the learning process is going to continue from here on out. As you have gathered, a 'biff' and a 'tag' have been a staple of my kids, but not endless smorgasbord that I was forced to feed from as a kid.

Others have had it better, some much worse. The debate could go on aud nausea and both sides of the fence could have met with equally dismal failures. BUT it does start at home! Raise your own damn kids! It's not the state's, school's or my job. Get off your fat ass and do it your gyotdamn self.

Trust me, if your kid is a fuck-up, we'll know. Some of us have one too, but they don't get to 'just give up' either. I'll be blogging on that a little later too...

*** Blow it out of your ass about moving the item to where the kid can't get to it either. One, the little fucker will build a pyramid out of tissue boxes and family pets to get to the damn thing just to spite you because they think they have a spiritual right to touch the damn thing. Two, YOU are the fucking adult ARE YOU NOT!?! That item is yours. It stays where you placed it and unmolested, period: the fuck trophy can conform or pay the consequences.

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