No Son Of Mine

I’m like most people, I’m not a huge bible thumper—unless and until it suits me. So that’s why I’d like to take the moral high ground, cast some aspersions and say that some things are just wrong.

Saying It Doesn't Make It So

Jesus didn’t die on a cross and hide all those eggs for nothing. He wanted to give us a better life and eternal salvation. In return all he wanted was for us to be good, charitable, practice faux-cannibalism by pretending a stale cracker was his body and live our lives according to his gospel.

Again, when it suits me, I don’t think that’s too much for him to ask in return.

Now, I don’t know if people are born this way, or they learn it. Doesn’t really matter, in me and Jesus’s book, they all end up in hell just the same. Even if you’re not religious and consider yourself open minded, this has got to be really devastating for any parent to hear:

Mom, dad, I’m a professional blogger.

Its even worse than being asked by the state highway department for your child’s dental records so they can identify what they think is a corpse. If my kid came home and said that, I don’t think I could stand it. I would be like,

I didn’t raise you this way. You weren’t taught that this type of behavior is right. Were did I go wrong? No, lord anything but this.

Ain’t no son of mine going to be a professional blogger. Get out of my house before I go all Abraham on you.

Here’s a list of pages I was able to find within 15 seconds where someone referenced themselves as a professional blogger:

http://www.labnol.org/about.html

http://www.theleggett.com

http://shesright.org/2009/01/27/im-a-professional-blogger

http://abhisays.com/blogging/benefits-of-being-a-full-time-blogger.html

And best yet, if you want to join the unprestigious ranks of self-proclaimed professional blogging head over to the Job Boards at Problogger.net. You’re parents will be so proud.

Saying you’re a professional blogger is like bragging about the fattest girl you ever fucked (fyi, really god damn fat—thank you very much—and ugly to boot). No wait. Its more like bragging about the fattest, ugliest girl you ever dated for a month in the hope of fucking, but it turned out she wasn’t into you and the most you ever got was a hug before she stopped returning your calls. That’s what saying you’re a professional blogger is equivalent to.

No one gives a fourth of a cum covered turd what you think, but please don't let that stop you from spreading your insightful wit to the world by commenting below. Or fuck, you're such a pussy-eating faggot you're probably interested in the rss feed of this shitty site. Oy vey.

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Almost every creature group has a name: school of fish; pride of lions; murder of crows. Almost all. To go with flocks, gaggles, covens, herds, colonies, troops, pods and blooms; I now give you the 'jason'. As in "Oh shit, the Special Olympics van just pulled up; here comes a jason of retards". I'm what you call a low self-esteem narcissist.