Tag Archives: kids

What Are Adults Up To?

It’s Sunday morning, post-marmalade, and I’m scanning the “blues papers” for some positive news on my fellow adults–what do I find? Story after story about mad men, wiggly women, and grimy grands (mas, pas, moffs). I cannot relate. The company I keep have clean noses and even cleaner gun pits, most of which contain so few guns that they prefer to call them “basements” instead.

So where can I find positive news on my fellow adults who are responsible for making everything on this Earth including decisions, babies, and small batch gin–excluding finger paintings, macaroni necklaces, and some of my cheaper clothes? Oh I don’t know, how about a source called “reality” where things happen in real time in stunning 4K resolution VR.

Even though  I got better things to do (like taking advantage of the ‘Yo-Yo Loophole’ wherein one painstakingly removes the premium string from pro-yo’s to be re-purposed as high performance shoelaces, which if you run the numbers is advantageous to the budget conscious) I feel it prudent to share some adult observations from my time among the fertiles within  common “hives” right here in my town. An English prof who is watching me type this at the library just gave that sentence a “G”. And why don’t I mind? That brings me to my first point:

They’re Rediscovering The Good Parts Of School

Being done school forever is one of the greatest pleasures an adult can experience–greater than grilling stone fruit for the first time. But it’t not like we’re spending our lunch breaks up the tallest tree in the schoolyard, muttering “Enjoying the bullshit?” to the children playing below. Total myth.

There are still things about school that some adults miss and it doesn’t even have anything to do with being chosen to take the metre stick home for the weekend to measure whatever you want in your room.

Remember trading lunch because your mom didn’t understand you? I observed a Bay Street big wig swap his quinoa salad for a ham and cheese sandwich and a night with the other man’s wife, an afternoon with his son, and two Christmases with his lovely aunt.

Recess rules, eh? While canvassing local tech companies to sponsor me in my quest to become Canada’s fastest double-clicker, I noticed many instituting two fifteen minute breaks a day preceded by an optional dip into a bowl of cigarettes and the dispersing of fanny packs filled with wild game jerkys.

Nudity Rates Are Not Rising With Inflation

Shockingly, adult nudity rates have stayed steady at 3% since the UN began collecting data during the “Summer of Mud” in 1984. Continued innovation in pajama technology has stunted growth in naked sleeping, while fashion magazines remain steadfast in promoting the prudish act of wearing clothes. I’m all for nudity but it’s not like I’m helping the cause. Over the summer I was dared to wear only a scarf to the pool and was ready to go in the change room until a guy in trunks called me “Frosty”, while a young lifeguard tossed me a roll of masking tape with no further instructions.

They Want Money

I was planning on complaining about how hard it is to find the right pair of jeans but it made my lawyers nervous. Besides, everyone is sick of the argument because jeans have been the official pants of first and second world humans since Levi Strauss took the durable cotton he would wrap stillborn calves in and turned them into a gag wedding gift for his brother.

After a harrowing afternoon of attempting to trade my novelty “Captain Asshole” dog tags for a a case of jars I realized that everything adults do is in the pursuit of money instead of food and shelter. This is pretty weird if you consider we all evolved from monkeys, or in the case of Australians, coyotes–real deal creatures that wouldn’t know a coin from a scorpion. You ever wonder why you never see radish gardens by the side of the road anymore? You ever picked up on the fact that trees are no longer called “root roofs”? Well, I do.


Thought Exercise

We believe that every posting should spur meaningful debate to inspire critical thinking. Educators: use the following as a starting point to start your own conversations. 

“Children are the future”?

Fine, take it. As an adult, I don’t even care. The present and the past are way better anyway.

The past has already happened; if the past totally rules then we can look upon it fondly while sharing buns by the fire. If the past was bad it doesn’t matter because it’s in the past so no harm done. The present so useful because you can do whatever you want within it, the “whatever” being extremely powerful because it’s also the future until you’ve done it but also the past because once you do it (whatever you want) it becomes history and history is past. Pretty cool.

Exercises

a) If you were to mutate time, how would you do it?
b) Should criminals be banished to future or past?
c) What does time taste like?

 

Alternatives to seasonal jumps

The other day I saw this little kid jump into a pile of dead leaves only to emerge covered in dog shit and old cigarette butts, making her look like some sort of leprosy-ridden Chewbacca. Every season has its own unique thing to jump into that we associate with childhood innocence but at what cost? Here are some alternatives to the most popular things to jump into, organized by season:

Summer
Major Jumper – Swimming Pools

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For centuries summer has been the hottest season of the year besides the heat generated by the non-stop action of PGA Tour season. The easiest way to beat the heat besides replacing your heart with a fridge motor is to swim in water that’s colder than the air. This form of bathing also affords adrenaline junkies the opportunity to test out air-based tricks like flips, dips and tornadoes but it’s all a bit played out. If you’re having trouble following what I’m talking about, simply remember this nursery rhyme: Summer is hot, pools are cool, the world is brown, pools are blue

Alternative – grass clippings

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Pools don’t grow on trees but grass sure does, and with so much unwanted grass clippings littering city streets and parks, it makes sense to use them for something other raccoon bait.

Winter
Major Jumper – snow

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Snow is a very safe, all-natural substance whose white colour reminds us of innocence and the boring part of our eye that doesn’t do anything. It’s also edible so if some gets in your mouth while you’re jumping into it you won’t have to force yourself to puke like you would when jumping into the bean pit during post-summer. I don’t think we should limit ourselves to just one kind of winter pile though.

Alternative – pile of salt

saltjump

Every foodie dreams of diving into a pile of salt and in most seasons this is completely unreasonable. But come winter big piles of chunky salt are utilized to season our ice and snow in case aliens come and we need to trick them into it so they leave our meat and seeds alone. Salt is rougher than snow but if you come home covered in salt your cat will give you the licking you’ve always sought.

Spring
Major Jumper – Mud

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Besides being a a dead ringer for poo, mud is a sign that winter is over as well as a source of nutrition for our nation’s nomads. You wouldn’t want some guy swimming around in your almonds, would you? Stay out of the mud!

Alternative – nests

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You shouldn’t feel bad about gathering bird’s nests into a clean pile because birds love making them. Besides, for all the hair and old string we contribute to every nest, the least they can do is not peck us when we take one.

Fall
major jumper – dead leaves

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Humans have a natural need to jump into piles of skeletons because that’s how our ancestors proved they weren’t pussies. Over centuries we’ve evolved to jump into the next best thing to dead humans: dead leaves. By frolicking in what’s essentially a tree’s dead children, jumping in leaves is a pretty big “fuck off” to bark boys considering we use their oxygen all year. Plus, what if someone’s phone number is written on one of those leaves?

alternative – alive leaves

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In grade four I ran away from home for six hours and was briefly raised by a local hobo named Meals. He taught me to pile up alive leaves and jump into them, giving one the sensation of “swimming through a lake full of skin” as Meal put it. And fuck trees anyway, right? You never hear them whisper “save the humans” or anything and here we are feeding them CO2 all year long.