it’s really not all that complicated; beats living out every day sedated

Twitter all you want, fringe celebrities, but I’ll likely not be texting the word HAITI to make a $10 donation anywhere, on account of how I really don’t care. Seriously, Haitians: try using some of that voodoo of yours to conjure up a U-Haul and move out of your shit country.

And don’t you even dare take offense to that, Internet, because you know damned well you don’t really care, either. You pretend you do, and say things like “oh yes, it’s terrible” or “first they all get Aids, and now an earthquake?” but then you grab the remote and the next thing you know it’s “oh, look! Women’s bowling is on ESPN2” and that’s that.

Hey! Need some advice on how to pick up a MILF? It’s easy! Borrow someone’s kid and take her to Chuck E. Cheese, where you’ll spend $20 on crap food and then walk around for an hour or so, arms filled with tickets and souvenir cups while she, through the magic of some lame Sponge Bob machine, turns 25¢ token after 25¢ token into 1¢ ticket after 1¢ ticket, all in hopes of getting a shitty Chinese yo-yo on the way out.

The MILFs love it. Love it.

It’s sort of like the old “taking a puppy to the park” routine, but with a far greater risk/reward ratio in that puppies cost less than kids to feed, they don’t talk non-stop (seriously, non-friggin’-stop), and you’ll never have to worry about the puppy’s paternal grandparents accusing you of molesting the puppy.

Sadly, though, the joke’s on you in that most of the single moms there are either fat, ugly, or some unacceptable combination of the two. Except for that one who was kind of cute, but she was with three boys and was clearly at her breaking point. And believe me when I tell you that you don’t want to be around when she loses her shit. Best to smile back but keep walking. Right? Right.