Douchebag Education Begins at Home – Part 1

May 16th, 2011 | By | Category: Columns

In honor of Mother’s Day, I figured it’d be apt to talk about our nation’s fine example of half-assed parenting. I’m certain that because I have yet to breed that I have no room to comment on how others raise their children, and if you think that, you can eat me. I’m not here to tell you how to parent (for the most part), I’m here to help you save your child’s future. Douchebags don’t just happen overnight, and simply wearing an Ed Hardy shirt with a mesh baseball cap, while douche-like, does not make one a complete douchebag. I say this because it’s never to late to talk to, and eradicate the douche from your child: consider it as a form of potty training, regardless of your methods, the end result is to get all the shit out.

Why am I taking the time you ask? Well, I feel that my generation was the last one to be raised “correctly” with very little coddling and negotiating–also my parole officer said this would count towards my community service, so it was between siting in the comfort of my living room typing this up, or losing 48 hours of my life to scraping gum off the sidewalk. On top of that, this will be a “however-many-parts-I-feel-like” spectacular.

Let’s talk about the apparent violence being committed by these young whipper-snappers with the apparent cause being everything under the sun outside of the lack of parenting. Causes range from violent video games where digitized humans explode in pixelated chunky goodness, to suggestive music that, when played backwards, either tell them to set their school on fire, or contain a really bitching recipe for chocolate chip pancakes. So, my first question to those parents who look to shift blame to these forms of media: why the hell are you buying your child items that are intended for a mature audience? Here’s a tip, if your child still believes in Santa Claus, you shouldn’t buy a game that allows you to fornicate with women of the night, then pummel them with a baseball bat when the act is finished to get your money back.

Personally, I’m tired of my hobby of choice getting a bad rap because your parenting skills are in the toilet. The next time you’re in Best Buy, and your little snot-nosed butt-digger runs up to you with the newest copy of Call of Duty, tell them “No.” Chances are the child will respond with a “Why not?,” which is where some parents go down the slippery slope of reasoning with someone barely able to wipe their own ass. If they question your authority, you squash it with a simple “Because I said so.” If your child isn’t already corrupted, they’ll roll their eyes, and start huffing and puffing on their way back to the game rack. Good job! But there are some children who will take it a step further and cause a “scene,” flopping in the middle of the floor and flailing their arms (like they just got 50k volts from a taser) in an effort to embarrass you and force you to cave…if you’re weak.

Admittedly, the next step can get a little tricky due to people “being all up in your Kool-Aid,” but this is when you lay it all on the table and go for the gusto with the ever effective “ass whoopin’.” (Yes, I’m well aware that it appears I’ve left off a “g,” and in any other situation you’d be correct, but in this case, it is as it should be. In order to stress the severity of the “beating,” one must remember to forgo all sense of proper English usage.)

The child is banking on the fact that you wouldn’t dare raise a hand to them in front of people, which makes it even more effective when your hand begins its rapid approach to their backside. The first hit is going to be absorbed by a combination of the adrenaline and the shock of having their bluff called. The next blow will ring righteous and true, and the tears streaming down their face will go from crocodile to legitimate fear. While in the middle of disciplining your child, it’s important to keep a steady rhythm, I suggest playing The Rock’s (yes the wrestler) theme song in your head while shouting Rockisms at your child such as: “Jabroni,” “Candy-ass,” and “Layeth the Smacketh down.”

Now I’m certain some people out there are from the school of “You should never hit a child,” and these are the folks who end up on Maury Povich crying to the audience about how their child is out of control, have sex with multiple partners in the parents’ bed, and are spending their allowance on cocaine. I’m not calling for a child to be beaten for everything, that’s straight abuse. This is more like house training. Think of it as a dog, it s***s in the house, you rub its face in it and swat it on the backside and eventually, it’ll stop s****ing all over your house. Same concept applies here.

I’m sure you’re all thinking I’m completely heartless, and, should I have have pod people of my own, they should be taken from me immediately. That’s all fine and dandy, but answer this: how many times have you been out in public, saw some child acting like a complete bastard, running down the aisles, knocking things down, screaming at the top of your lungs, and your first thought is: “That little shit needs his ass beat?”



Chris hates anyone or anything which goes against how he feels a sentient being with more than three brain cells should act. He hopes to use his “Encyclopedia Douchebag…ica” as a springboard into becoming a full-fledged, tax exempt religion complete with holidays and greeting cards, mainly so he can steal from its coffers. His hopes are…not that high, knowing that those who needs his guidance most, are unable to read his words… what with the extra flesh from their sloped, ape-like foreheads blinding their eyes from the truth.

When not acting like a complete bastard (which is not very often), Chris writes about all things video game related  on his blog iNOOBriated and offers his services as a freelancer for Beckett’s Massive Online Gamer. Yep, he’s a neeeeeerd.

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