In honor of Turkey Day, a Doghouse Diaries exclusive original premium platinum status chart. -Ray
I work with children ranging from kindergarten to high school. Generally, it’s the adults that work my nerves, but occasionally there is a kid I want to sucker punch.*
I sent this text today after a extremely excruciating encounter with a small child.
Going to start threatening to kills kid’s families when they’re fucking around and taking forever ….
"Choose the picture that shows what the student should do or I’ll fucking murder your mommy and make you watch, you little shit! And if you keep dicking around, it’s lights out for daddy too. Hell, I’m feeling good today. I might even take out nana and pop pop. You wanna find a bloody mess when you get home?"
I imagine that I’ll whisper these words into a child’s ear. And if I’m approach by a coworker when the child starts to cry and scream about how I’d just threatened to decimate his family, I will stand and announce a la Denzel Washington in his Oscar winning performance in Training Day, “King Kong ain’t got nothing on me!”
These thoughts are what keep me from actually losing my shit.
*I don’t hit children… unless they hit me first. Because that’s when that shit becomes a fight and I’ll be damned if I let a little kid think they just kicked my ass.
I can never take this question seriously. I can’t take most things too seriously, because if I did I’d probably implode… or better yet, I would disintegrate into a pile of glitter. And if you know how I feel about glitter then you know how obnoxious I think a human being sized pile of glitter is.
I probably hate that question for the same reason I hate most things.
I’m a fucking asshole. I recognize it as bullshit. People ask about your secrets when they run out of things to say, but still want to establish intimate conversation, or they’ve got some serious shit to get off their chest.
Person 1: What’s your deepest, darkest secret?
Person 2: I don’t think that I could ever really be happy. I’m afraid that I will always be searching for something and never be able to find it, because I don’t truly know what it is. Wow! I’ve never said that to anyone. I feel so close to you right now. What about you? What’s your secret?
Person 1: I kicked a baby to death.
Person 2: Oh my God! What? Why would you do that?
Person 1: So I could have a deep dark secret to share to establish intimacy with you. And I totally get what you’re saying about being afraid that you’ll never be happy. That’s rough.
I get that there are situations where the question is useful -like AA or NA meetings. I mean the reason you’re sucking off strangers in alleys to fund your habit of freebasing cocaine is probably because you’re holding onto a pretty big fucking secret. I get it. I just don’t think that asking that question is appropriate dinner conversation unless you’re out to dinner with a licensed therapist.
Truthfully, what you do in dark alleys and at dinner is none of my concern. Just don’t ask me that question and expect me to take you seriously. I won’t. Because you’re lame.