When I envisioned myself as being a father it was never in the mold of Cliff Huxtable, not to dis Cosby or anything, but my past is filled with so many "weed and whores" stories that it would be hard to act like I had the moral high ground when addressing my children.(Plus, I motherfucking hate sweaters.) I saw myself as the cool dad, you know, warning my kids against the evils of the world since their dear old dad not only danced with the devil at one point in his life, but occasionally was lucifer's most trusted confidant. Besides me possibly threatening my daughter's boyfriends with castration via a dull butter-knife, overall I see myself being considerably laid back, doing shit like introducing my kids to stoners that I have known since high school and their perpetual state of laziness after catching my son with a joint. I had all these parenting scenario's in my head, convincing myself that I would be the quintessential parental figure, all I needed now was for a woman to be kind enough to let me inject her with my demon seed. But a couple of incidents happened recently that put my future parenting skills in question to say the least.
The first incident happened when a friend of mine asked me to talk to their son about marijuana, basically trying to get me to dissuade the young man from ever smoking any more street horticulture. I was the last person to give anyone an anti-drug speech, so I Nancy Reagan'ed him on some "Just say No!" shit, pulled a page out of the playbook of the nuns at St. Gregory's on some "If drugs you chose, YOU LOSE!!" shit, I even contemplated breaking out a couple of eggs and making the both of us some delectable omelets.(I couldn't do the whole "This is your brain on drugs" rant, I would have giggled through it.) But then I decided to speak from the heart, level with the young brother, and tell him some of the things I went through to shed some light on some of the stupid things you do while high on dope. Well, it didn't work out as well as I had planned, since I accidentally glamorized running from the cops, having sex with 3 women at the same time, jumping out of a moving car, and stealing a cop car. I'm sure he sparked a blunt as soon as I left, based on the 30 minute weed endorsement I presented him.
Another example that I would be a bad parent of Brittany Spears proportions is when this young cat stopped my house when I was cutting the grass last week. He's a good kid, about 17, and occasionally I have talked to him about Hip Hop a few times. Well, he had told me a story about him getting into an altercation with a dude, hitting him with his skateboard, and then taking off. I know since I am 16 years his senior I should have warned him against violence, went into specific detail about all the friends that I have lost because of it, basically tried to be the voice of reason so this young man would see that violence definitely wasn't the answer. Nope, not me, after he talked about hitting a kid with a skateboard I started talking about my favorite things to hit people with. It looks like my black ass won't be winning any father of the year awards.
Bottles: Don't lecture me, I know that you can kill some hapless bastard if you hit them with a bottle, I know that. But I treat that danger the same way you would treat crossing the street, driving, or sucking on a neck bone, you could die those ways as well so fuck it. But seriously, the only times I suggest getting someones cranium intimately acquainted with a beer bottle is when you feel in immediate danger or if you want to get your point across. This time that three guys were about to jump me in a bar a few years back, a situation that had "loss" written all over it, I hit one of them with a bottle and tried to fight the other two with the broken remains that were in my hands. Or this one time that the ex-boyfriend of a girl I was dating confronted me at this concert, detailing the numerous ways that he would insert his foot in my rectum, so I smashed him in the head with a bottle to not only get my point across, but to also let him know that my asshole was an "exit only" orifice. But seriously, even if you aren't a fighter, hitting some jackass with a Budweiser container is the best way to get them to leave you alone. See, for one thing they can't believe that you just did that, also when most people see their own blood it scares the piss out of them.
The best example of how to pull off that maneuver was in the movie "Malcolm X", in Malcolm's hustling days, when he was in that bar and smashed that guy in the head with a bottle, screaming "Don't you ever say anything against my mother!!" I love that shit.
Whiffle ball bat: If you aren't a toy tester, or a pedophile masquerading as a baseball coach, I'm pretty sure that most people don't have a whiffle bat at their disposal. I know, it's weird, but let me explain. I was helping a couple of friends set up for a garage sale they were having last year, a weird concept really, asking people to find value in shit that you were going to throw away in the first place. Anyway, I was helping out while my friends went to the store when a couple of dudes tried to walk off with a television set that they were selling. When I attempted to stop them they started to jump me, which would be understandable in most situations, but these motherfucker were about to beat my ass over a small black and white T.V and shit. Because it was the closest thing handy I picked up a whiffle ball bat, got to my feet, and prepared to do whatever I could to avoid an ass-whipping. The two guys giggled as I tightly gripped this long blue thing looking like a Smurf stunt cock, as we were about to throw down. Let me tell you, that thing was pretty solid, based on how many times I repeatedly went upside the head of those two jackasses who wanted a 30 year old T.V in the worst way. Nothing tells you that you have violence issues than seeing blood on a toy that kids use to improve their hand eye coordination, but I thought to myself "I really have to get one of these things!!"
Bag of Soda's: Ever since I saw Sean Penn's character in the movie "Bad Boys" dispatch his would be dispatchers with a pillowcase full of canned soda's, I wanted to do that at some point in my life. But really, when would that opportunity ever present itself to you?? Also, I'm pretty sure that your attacker wouldn't listen to you if you said, "Wait a minute!!" as you pulled out a pillowcase, a shitload of quarters to buy soda's with, and then filled the bag up right in front of them. But lo and behold, I found my golden opportunity to Mame a couple of dirt-bags who had an agenda of hate against the man you know as Humanity F Critic. I was in college, at some unity function, where they had free food, soda's, and college ass as far as the eye could see. Well, there were a few gentlemen there that didn't like the fact that I had not only beat up their friend recently, but I embarrassed him by snatching off his chain in front of a few onlookers. That's when I grabbed a trash bag, put some of those free "unity sodas" in said bag, and began to swing away like Reggie "Mr October" Jackson in the World Series. I was doing my thing, that was until the bag broke and I got beaten like a bass drum to the distant sounds of "Rumpshaker". I'm not condoning that any of you ever do this, but I have two pieces of advice when it comes to hitting some ass-hat with a bag full of soda's. 1. Use a pillowcase, trust me. 2. Make sure you don't miss, because if you do and your momentum swings you around you might catch a bad one.
Chairs: I know that hitting people with chairs is very WWF, but it has been something that I always have believed in like my mother, Hip Hop, or angrily masturbating in the dark on those lonely winter nights. Remember, hitting someone with a chair is like the seasoning on the dish of ass-whipping, it's the cab fare you give a broad after you make love to her for a whopping 5 minutes, it's the "money shot" in a porn flick. I don't know of anyone who is going to let you walk over, grab a chair, then proceed to repeatedly hit them with it. A chair is needed after you have pretty much tattooed your opponent with a plethora of jabs, combinations, throat-chops, whatever. Hitting someone with a chair is pretty savage, but the collective "Of Shit!!" you hear from onlookers as you make the trip back to your enemy with said chair in hand is pretty cool if I may say so myself. The funny thing is that people who get hit with chairs act like the wrestlers do on T.V, they give you an ugly grimace, and they arch their back while holding it in the most dramtic fashion.