chilren – n. the kid who is left out and not part of the other CHILDREN
Q: A woman gave birth to two sons who were born in the same hour of the same day of the same year, but they were not twins. How is this possible?
A: They were two of triplets.
Q: How do small children travel?
A: In mini vans
ahusg – n. a song sung by a child or a chorus of children exclusively. There are no middle-aged washed up adult singers allowed
cenebu – v. to bring your annoying kid to work
One day there was a family of cranes nesting happily below a huge fountain at an amusement park. There were six cranes in all, happily living life, feeding from the crumbs dropped by the forever-eating patrons of the amusement park.
There was the mother, Sealee, and her beautiful husband, Archibald, who had four wonderful crane children. The two oldest were twins, String Bean 1 and String Bean 2 (also known as The Twins String Bean collectively), followed by their sister Celithrulith and lastly, but certainly not least, came beautiful baby Stotch.
Stotch was only a few months old but was already showing great signs of growing up into a prestigious adult male. He was the crown jewel of the family, because he was really pretty, cause he was a male, and males are pretty, and the only thing Sealee and Archibald would talk about to the other cranes they met while flying around the amusement park at night when all the a-hole tourists are gone. However, because they were not as important as the new baby, the three sisters secretly met in the one place their parents would never think to look — the bathroom — in order to find a way to get rid of “stupid baby Stotch.”
“We could strangle him!” the Twins String Bean shouted in the refracting walls of the bathroom.
“NOT SO LOUD!” Celi, short for Celithrulith, screeched at the twins. “Strangling MIGHT be the best option, since us cranes have fragile necks….!”
The Twins String Bean started laughing in unison.
“But what should we strangle him with?!?” 1 said.
2 said, “Rope?”
1 said, “String?”
2 said, “A sweater?”
1 said, “A bowling ball?”
1 and 2 started rattling off random objects for about two minutes when Celi finally came to an epiphany.
All three cranes started squawking in excitement! Masking tape was the worst feeling in the world for their feathers. It stuck to it like no other adhesive and when you took it off, it took some feathers with it!
It was three weeks since the death of Stotch… and the investigation was going nowhere! Due to the chains of bureaucracy in the town of Beauracracy, also the fact that Tax-Free Furniture Week has been going on for three weeks no one gave a shit about the murder of a lowly no-tax-paying crane. Sealee and Archibald had been crying ever since they found young Stotch strangled behind the river rapids depot, with the feathers around his neck ripped off. His poor, fragile, neck had to been bent in an awkward direction. As the tide came in at the river rapids, his body had traveled from where the murder had actually taken place, which still has yet to be found.
Sealee and Archibald spent the coming weeks in the company of their religious community, with Father Snewrug holding a ceremony for Stotch’s burial. The three sisters, silently happy that all has been going according to plan, played along with the proceedings, no one the wiser that the murderers were with them the whole time.
Stotch’s spirit roamed the grounds of the amusement park for hundreds of years, as the Stotch the Crane Spirit became a theme during the Halloween event. Eventually the park, renamed Stotch’s Scary Crane Park could not sustain on ghost stories alone. It was closed down, and Stotch was truly alone, the images of his murder playing in his mind over and over. Globs of masking tape littered the abandoned amusement park like tumbleweed, blowing across the landscape.
Stotch’s colors were very beautiful, even for a ghost. It was what made him so noticeable when he appeared to people squawking in their faces. Occasionally he would have been seen staring at people with his mouth wide open as he “watched” people going to the bathroom. The things you can get away with as a ghost!
Stotch was feeling particularly even more alone than usual once the amusement park had been closed down. It seemed like no one really cared about him, and there weren’t even any ghost-themed investigation reality TV shows coming to see find him anymore.
The abandoned amusement park was once again occupied when a sect of the human race, known scientifically as “Hipsters” began moving in. They thought it would be so cool to live in an abandoned amusement park where no one would be able to criticize their tight jeans and hipster-sounding music. They would have movie nights where they could watch all the classics, like Gone With the Windie Rock Festival, and The Fantastic Mr. Anti-Establishment Tight Jean Designer.
Ah, yes, life was grand in the old spooky haunted abandoned amusement park full of hipsters. That was, until Stotch had enough of the hipster crap and Hot Topic receipts littering his home! One by one, Stotch squawked very loudly in the face of each hipster, appearing and disappearing in a blinding flash. Not only was he assaulting their senses, but he was ruining their movie nights and their mini-musical festivals that hipsters always like to say they attend.
Hipster-Honcho Jake Guldinthal, leader of the Hipsters proclaimed that all of his friends (also known as “subjects” in non-hipster lingo) should perform a séance to rid themselves of their ghostly companion. His squawking ruined the best scene in Clearance-Priced Wedding, where the Princess of Bargain Bin Town finally said “I DO” to the Prince of Upscale Department Store Town and had a 50 minute-long lovemaking scene in which there was no nudity, and only money being used to touch each other. It had something to do with using money for not-its-intended-purposes or something like that. The movie ended with a wad of sweaty cash being thrown into the trash can. Stotch’s fifty-one minute squawk would probably be a world record. But, alas, the Hipster Congregation’s Hipster Council met in the Merry Go-Round to discuss their ghost infestation. The only solution was to summon the bird into the open and shoo him away for good.
The cheapest psychic in the area, Jorge Yulonzagonez, a half Chinese, half Mexican, half Japanese man was hired to get rid of the ghost. Now, you might be asking why this man is three halves of a person. That’s because he is a conjoined “twin” with two heads, but both heads have the same consciousness. Don’t ask why, but both brains work in unison with each other and when he speaks, both heads speak at the same time. Sometimes he’s able to make one of them not say anything, if he’s making a joke, though.
Jorge Yulonzagonez came by in his station wagon, and the hipsters were all in a large circle around the bathroom building – the place where most of the activity seems to originate. Jorge’s two heads spoke in unison, “Hello, my friends . We are here today to exterminate this ghost of the day… this ghost of the night… this ghost that has been ruining your hipster musical festivals! How dare this ghost ruin movie night and make your sensitive man leggings stretch further than they are meant to stretch!”
At that moment, Jimmy Santiago broke down and began to cry into his hands. Those around him comforted him.
Jorge pointed towards Jimmy. “It will be alright, my friend! This puta will pay for the crimes he has committed! Just because he’s a ghost, doesn’t give him free reign on being a jerk!”
Jimmy Santiago agreed with the empowering words and patted his comforting friends on the shoulder, thanking them for their support.
“Now, let us join hands and begin the expunging of this fowl ghost!” Jorge got on top of a random box and began waving his hands around like a bird.
“CAW… CAW CAW!!! SHOO GHOST! SHOO! LEAVE THIS PLACE!!” Jorge squawked like a bird.
Stotch screeched a howling screech that made all of the hipsters start dancing. It sounded just like one of those bands they had at their last indie music festival, that they didn’t realize that it was actually a ghost!
Stotch manifested in front of Jorge, unable to disappear. He stood in place and flapped his wings in an aggressive fashion.
Jorge pointed to Stotch. “YOU! GHOST!!! LEAVE THIS PLACE IMMEADIATELY!”
Stotch fluttered his feathers. “Who are you to tell me to leave this place? I’ve lived here for a very long time and if you think some two-headed jerk can make me leave after what I’ve endured these years, you’ve got another thing coming, sir. I was murdered in a bathroom and dumped into an amusement park water ride by my own jealous sisters!”
The hipsters all started crying. It was like the plot from their favorite sappy movie that they never knew existed. The only thing missing was a flight jacket and some ripped tight jeans with some shaggy hair cut.
Just then, a fleet of Versikons, a flying human species that is known to be a Hipster’s predator, swooped in on the crowd of crying hipsters. They all dispersed and ran away crying into the distance as a few of them were lifted into the air and had their musical tastes demeaned by the Versikons. Soon the Hipsters left the amusement park entirely, and only Jorge and Stotch remained.
“I didn’t see that coming.” Jorge said from both of his heads.
“Well, onto the next abandoned amusement park, eh Stotch?” Jorge continued.
Jorge hopped onto Stotch and rode off into the sunset. As they rode away, three female crane ghosts fluttered in the air. On each neck hung shreds of masking tape…!
This is a satire about the way a certain “parent” would look upon a video game. It’s written as if it was for a site that was run by mothers who denounce controversial video games based on third party information rather than actually experiencing it themselves, and making rash judgments about things they have little knowledge about. The name of this “mother” is Soccer Mom Dave.
Developer/Publisher: King Games | Soccer Mom Score: 0/10
How dare they.
They made a game based on candy.
A group of buffoons who have enough gall to create a game so delicious-looking that it influences my children to eat candy!!!!!! All of these developers who made this game will rot in Candy Hell – don’t they know that America’s obesity epidemic starts and ends with the media? Games like Candy Crush Saga influence our children to become stupid, fat, obese adults who want to eat more candy and junk food. Jelly, whip cream, gum balls, exploding candy, chocolate balls with sprinkles that turn everything else into exploding candy! What kind of a sick mind would think of this stuff?
Not only does this game appeal to children, since they put a little child in the game as the main “protagonist” but they also try to appeal to sexy fatherly men who wear suits, just like this butler guy who tells you how to accomplish all of these massively unappealing, evil puzzles while talking in a sultry voice. It is just perfect that this game is a “match-three” game – it influences our children and prospective husbands to always want to eat candy in groups of three, four, or five. Not only that, but you get rewarded for matching higher combos, implying that you will succeed if you eat more candy! What lies are they feeding the general public with their implications!? There are absolutely no disclaimers that this candy is Calorie-Free, or even Fat-Free! Eating candy will kill you. Also, dragons and talking robots do not exist. I don’t know why they even put them in this slow-and-torturous-murder simulator. The dragon probably has diabetes from swimming in sugar water too long.
As if my life wasn’t terrible enough before this game came out, for free, I now have to deal with my children begging me for candy and acting like the whip cream in the game. They hug my knees, and don’t allow me to move until I clear them out. The only way I can get them to leave me alone is by pelting them with candy, just like in the game, and then I can move more freely. Sometimes my children cover themselves with Jelly and the only way to remove the Jelly is by throwing multiple combinations of candy at the Jelly chunks on their faces. My children are also recreating the game board from Candy Crush Saga in our 10-acre backyard with 300+ levels, just like in the game. When my husband gets home, all he does is drink beer and neglect me and my children, so it’s not like he’s going to put a stop to this madness! I wish that I could hire a butler to escort my children around this hugely elaborate candy game that is evolving in my backyard.
And just like the real-life version in my backyard, Candy Crush Saga was probably play-tested by all of three people, none of them paid. What’s the point of balancing a game when you can charge people anywhere from a dollar to FORTY damn dollars to cheat on an unbalanced game? Instead of trying to make the game a “fun,” balanced, and healthy experience, they’ve created a death machine meant to extort money and make the obesity epidemic even worse! Candy Crush Saga takes over the minds of the sheep we call our fellow humans and bleeds them dry for “power-ups” that shouldn’t even exist in a balanced game. No wonder they made 300 levels – you will inevitably be stuck on level 30, and never be able to play the other 90% of the game unless you pay to cheat! The temptation is absolutely unbearable! My children, both with iPhone 5s, have spent nearly 200 dollars each on this game to cheat. In real life, cheating is free — all you have to do is skirt around your obligations and make the other guy pay for the hotel. This game doesn’t teach my children any valuable or “useful” lessons.
Why can’t they make Health Food Saga, instead? It would have relieved my potential stress levels immeasurably. They should have used Fat-free milk, Baby Carrots, Asian Pears, Romaine Lettuce, Cherry Tomatoes and Vitamin Pills.
To conclude, this game needs to be more like real life – STOP PUTTING DELUSIONS IN MY IMPRESSIONABLE CHILDREN’S HEADS!!! LOOK AT WHAT IT HAS DONE TO MY LIFE, MY HOUSE, AND AMERICA!!! BAN CANDY CRUSH SAGA FROM YOUR iPHONES, PARENTS! THE RESISTANCE STARTS WITH YOU!
Sex is like math.
Subtract the clothes.
Divide the legs.
Add the moaning.
Hope you don’t multiply.
Tenny the Tennis Ball has been stuck in the same fence for 15 years. Oh, the stories he could tell you about Rochestor Elementary School. Tenny wasn’t always in a fence, though. At one point, he was used as a tool for mass infliction of pain!
But, ever since he was thrown into the very top rung of the fence, Tenny observed the school and all of the events that transpired below.
Unbeknownst to anyone, Tenny is a romantic. He longed for the days when he was trapped between two other tennis balls to whom he could have constant contact with in the metal tube he came from. He is into the multi-racial thing, too, as one was green and the other was orange.
It isn’t easy being stuck in a fence at a lowly school in Missouri. No one ever says, “Hi,” to him and when the seasons change, he weathers the weather without so much as a glimpse from a 5th grader.
There Tenny stayed stuck in a fence, never minded upon, simply unnoticed, always observing.
That is, until an electrical storm forced an alien spaceship into the atmosphere! They were planning an attack on a K-Mart building that had gained sentience and was threatening to collect on the layaways the aliens had at the store. The Layawaliens’ plans were foiled when the K-Mart Building #1335 created an electrical storm to foil them.
The immense radiation blast that came from the Layawaliens’ ship was focused solely at Tenny the Tennis Ball. His simple existence of being stuck in a fence had instantly become something more… and as the Layawaliens tried to restabalize and exit the atmosphere, a second large burst of radiation hit Tenny and he sprouted legs, and arms, and a brain, and a head, and a kidney… two even! He had become what he only knew… and elementary school kid. A 5th grader, to be exact.
But he was still stuck in a fence, body organs hanging out every which way because there was no room for him to grow “naturally.” There he groaned and lamented in pain as his tennis-ball-fur-covered organs hung and bounced around as he tried to free himself to no avail.
How he longed even more for the days of being a normal tennis ball! This being a half-human-half-tennis-ball thing got old after about ten minutes of having two swinging kidneys.
There he stayed over the weekend until the children went out to recess. It’s sort of hard to not notice this weird human hybrid monster thing hanging at the top of the fence. Some children started to throw rocks and insults at Tenny for no reason. He hated being “human” and hated humans, too!
Just then, the K-Mart Building #1335 developed space flight capability and empathically felt Tenny’s pain. If K-Mart Building #1335 wanted a life-hating space captain, Tenny was it.
As the K-Mart building lifted off it made a tractor beam shoot out and rip off the piece of the fence that Tenny was stuck in and levitated it into its roll-up doors and exited the atmosphere. Tenny the Tennis Ball was given a chair that fit the contours of his new body perfectly. Even though he was still stuck in afence, he was able to integrate his thoughts with the space-bound building.
First order of business, was a volley of phasers and rockets and contact solution as well as several types of canned goods at Rochester Elementary. There were tons of screaming children as they were splashed with exploding cases of contact solution and pelted with canned cucumbers and peaches. The phasers targeted the handball and four-square courts to the children would never get to play at recess again. This would lead to diabetes in 3/4 of the children and they wouldn’t be able to eat any fun food for the rest of their lives.
The K-Mart building communicated to Tenny that it was going to follow the damaged Layawalien ship back to its home planet and collect on its layaways in full, even if that means taking over their planet.
The Layawaliens ship finally made its way back to its home planet of Layaway Planet, where everything on the planet took a decade to pay for, so it was all old-looking shit. The defensive capabilities of the planet were no match for K-Mart Building #1335, and soon it landed on the planet, creating a fortress around itself and infecting the population with a derivative of salmonella from its sliced Turkey products that the Layawaliens foolishly took it out on layaway from the store.
Three weeks after the fortress had been completed and 90% of the Layawalien population had food poisoning and stomachaches, Tenny declared Layaway Planet the property of K-Mart Building #1335. The Layawaliens were forced to sign a treaty agreeing to this fact, so that they would be able to get antacids and cures for the salmonella poisoning that threatened their race.
Tenny thought back to his simpler days of being stuck in a fence as a normal tennis ball. Look how far he had come, in such a short time.
Moral: When your life is changed drastically, think of the consequences it has on others as well.
Q: Who does Michael Jackson consider to be a Perfect “10”?
A: Two 5 year olds.
If a child is choking on an ice cube don’t panic. Simply pour a jug of boiling water down its throat and the blockage is almost instantly removed!
This has been stirring in my head for the past month or so. There’s this recent uptake in the health community that having a child that is obese or overweight is considered child abuse.
Now, let’s take a step back here.
Why would you consider having a child as being overweight the ONLY form of… let’s call it “contemporary child abuse.”
Couldn’t you say that having a child at all would constitute as child abuse? As soon as they pop out of the womb, they are subjected to torture day in and day out. They must breathe polluted air. They have to deal with getting sick. They have to deal with everything that kids have to deal with. Why not call all of the problems that children have to deal with child abuse because their parents could’ve done something more to prevent anything from happening to them? They could have made them wash their hands after every contact with something that has germs on it. What if a child has a fever that goes to 103 and they are forced to take medicine that tastes bad?
I would even go so far as to say that if you allowed a child to be born with a birth defect, whether or not it was your fault, this would also constitute as child abuse, since you are now forcing your child to live with a defect. The “right thing” to do in this case would have been to abort the baby and save them years of “torture.”
Where does it end?
If people are considering having children that are overweight in any capacity as an allegation of child abuse, then why aren’t we looking at everything? Why don’t we just remove every single child under every single parent have them raised by the government?
It would certainly solve a lot of problems society has with children.
For example, the state will never pay to have their employees bring annoying little kids to Rated R movies. They will never be seen at the mall making loud crying noises or running around on the escalator at my job without someone getting angry at them.
They’ll be stuck in what is essentially a jail, and we’ll all be better for it.
Q: What is the best way to raise a child?
A: In an elevator.
Submitted through the Dictionary submission form.
word = child
undefined_word = (not defining an undefined word)
word_form = noun