Isn’t that sweet? These helpful Boy Scouts are standing by, ready to help women in need of assistance with their breast exams.
Actually, although this is a satirical skit from The Onion, this is pretty much exactly how I remember the Boy Scouts of my acquaintance from back when I was in Girl Guides!
12-Year-Old Boy Scouts Volunteer To Give Women Breast Exams
Stolen from CelebrityCosmeticSurgery
I’ve had so many technical difficulties I haven’t even been able to get back to this post until now! But it is (long past) time to announce our winner from a week ago. Both suggestions were good, but There Can Be Only One.
Sarah G. Says:
November 9th, 2008 at 8:03 pm
Jimmy found it much harder to pick out his next sibling than he originally thought.
Kudos (whatever they are; surely they don’t mean that vile little sticky candy bar? She deserves better) and imaginary swag to Sarah G, our winner this week. In keeping with our scientific theme, we hypothetically present this ultra-swanky grown-up chemical set from Pampalona, for mixing up concoctions both mysterious and powerful.
You honestly think anything in this child’s life will ever live up to this moment? Phillies fans decided, for whatever completely arbitrary and not-at-all malt-beverage-related reason, to cheer wildly whenever this toddler raised his arms. Note how quickly this adorable child went from Jon Cusack in Say Anything to Adolf Hitler at the Nuremberg Rally.
As the comments on the video note:
He’s going to be really disappointed when he grows up and realizes he’s not a king or some sort of wizard.
Remember this album cover? Well, Spencer Elden, the former baby who has kindly recreated the photo, is now seventeen!
Feeling a bit old, are we? I know that flannel shirts are trendy again, but please, let’s keep them where they belong, wadded up at the bottom of a closet along with our college sweatshirt.
To be honest, I never liked the grunge movement or Nirvana. Although I really dig the Foo Fighters, so go figure. But, this cover meant nothing to me as a result of my Nirvana dislike.
And a tidbit from EW says:
Elden’s babe-baiting repertoire is apparently fairly limited: He is quoted in the article as saying that he has to use “stupid pickup lines like, ‘You want to see my penis … again?”
Kurt would be proud.
Here’s Damon Weaver of Canal Point Elementary School in Palm Beach County, Florida, interviewing Vice Presidential Hopeful Joe Biden on what the Vice Presidency is all about. Frankly, one of the best interviews so far in the race, so congratulations, Damon!
And Joe.
The Munchkin’s school had a Halloween event after hours yesterday, and helping out with the festivities were some young adult volunteers. And this year, it seems that slutty Halloween costumes are the “in” thing. Why am I not surprised?
One of the teens assigned to lead the Munchkin’s group around campus was dressed as a cheerleader. Fine, you say, what is wrong with a cheerleader? Well, try a micro-mini that barely covered her assets, knee high stockings, and a short, skin tight cheer sweater. Not exactly appropriate for leading a bunch of kindergarteners around. But really, when is an outfit like that appropriate for a young woman?
Answer with me, folks, “Never!”
Let’s check out some other costumes made available by some fine costume manufacturers for the young ladies in our lives. Sadly, these were not hard to find.
First we have what is billed as a “Super Girl Teen” Costume. Funny, I don’t remember Super Girl showing quite so much bare midriff.
We move on to “Veinia Adult and Teen” costume. If I had a teen daughter, she would never be allowed out of the house with the larger portion of her boobs on display. Sorry, I’m a dictator like that.
This “Pirate Teen” costume seems to have weathered quite the storm. I mean, that’s what happened to the rest of her outfit, right?
This “Moonlight Vixen Teen” costume will definitely turn heads. The wrong, er, kinds of heads. No double entendre intended. Even better, this costume is currently sold out.
Now we have the most frightening of all, the “Fallen Angel” costume listed as Child/Teen. Let’s read their lovely description: “Featuring a dress with sexy lace-up bodice…” Yes, that’s exactly the look I want for my twelve year old.
Scream-inducing, for sure.
In the same vein as Little Gordon Ramsay, we now present a tiny tinpot tyrant whose subsequent showbusiness career will never allow him as much unfettered scenery-chewing as he has here been afforded at the tender age of, what, eight? Barring William Shatner biopics, of course.
Can I get a British-to-North-American translator up in here? As near as I can make out, this anatomically correct doll’s name is Baby SomethingOrOther Pee Pee, and I’m not really sure I want to know what SomethingOrOther is. Maybe you could hold up, like, one finger if it’s a cutsie word, two if it’s a little bit off, three if it’s something that would make a nine-year-old giggle, four if it has featured in a Jason Biggs movie, five if it’s featured in a Pasolini movie, etc. Also: is it sexist if there’s no girl version of this doll, or is it sexist to be relieved there’s no girl version?
via CandyKirby
It would turn out something like adorable Little Gordon Ramsay here. And people ask me why I don’t have kids!
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Very few people know this, but there are more circles of Hell than Dante revealed. It’s true: in his original manuscript for the Divine Comedy, he revealed the existence of the mysterious “Eleventyth Circle” of Hell. A zealous editor excised the chapter in question, on the grounds that it was too terrible a secret to reveal.
We are now going to expose this great secret, right here on a parenting blog where his editor would never think to look for it. We are going to tell you just who it is who dwells and suffers eternally in the Eleventyth Circle of Hell:
My friends, I have had some agonizing road trips in my time (I particularly recall the longest four hours of my life, spent riding shotgun west of William’s Lake with a man who used every second of that time to harp upon the perfection of the political party of his choice, a group of knuckle-walking, syphillitic graft-mongers so vile that when they toured the prison system even the germs cut them dead) but nothing, my friends, compares to the excruciating, yet regrettably rarely fatal, experience of being locked in a car with someone who insists that everyone plaster a Team! Spirit! Smile! on their faces and Have! Awesome! Fun! Playing! Cool! Car! Games! Right! Now! Or! Else!
Should you feel like quietly looking out the window counting ponies, or reading your Shakespeare which isn’t going to get any shorter if you let it wait, working on your theory reconciling Aristotle and Kant, or staring at the map purposefully, sighing extravagantly, and making darting glances at the passing roadsigns in order to freak out the driver, you will be yelled at, poked, and very likely even called a spoilsport by the little Mussolini in charge.
Whereupon I recommend my own favorite car game: stop at Dairy Queen and drive away while he’s in the bathroom.
