The Week In Review
I took my kids to the LEGO Store this afternoon, and let me tell you something: No matter what age you are, if you can’t get your kid on in the LEGO Store, then you are a reprehensible human being and I don’t want to know you. You know who would have loved the LEGO Store? Hitler. No shit, he was into architecture and design in a big way, so if you don’t like the LEGO Store, you are worse than Hitler.
The reason we were in the LEGO Store to begin with because you cannot just buy LEGO’s at the toy store anymore. No, you have to buy a kit: LEGO Lightning McQueen, LEGO Star Wars, LEGO Kurt Cobain, LEGO Neville Chamberlain, and on and on and on. If you go into an adult shop, I bet you can get LEGO dildos and butt-plugs. But none of the toy stores allow you to just buy a fucking bucket of assorted LEGO’s.
As a dad, this is a real problem for me. When we get a new LEGO kit at home, my kids pester me endlessly to put it together for them, which I agree to do only if they will help. And so they help, which at first means that they ask a series of rapid-fire insane questions at me.
Son: “Daddy, why are LEGO’s things?”
Me: “Wha… What?”
Son: “Why are LEGO’s things? And why can’t we use them for food?”
Me: “What the…? Have your older cousins been blowing funny smoke in your face?”
Son: “And why don’t LEGO’s go on TV?”
I honestly don’t know how my kids get such good grades. They ask questions that, if posed them to a crack-head, the crack-head would look at you all funny and say, “Man, what the fuck is wrong with you?” After the insane question phase comes the piece pilfering phase. This is where they reach out and grab a key piece and then hide or possibly eat it. This results in me scratching my head while looking at the assembly instructions for upwards of 45 minutes, trying to figure out what I did wrong and where that part is.
Finally, after tiring of watching daddy swear to himself, the kids run off and I can finish the kit in peace. Then I bring the finished product to show them, and they laugh and instantly smash it on the floor, mixing the pieces with the remnants of 100 other LEGO projects. “Make it again!” they’ll shout. “Make it again!” At this point, for some odd reason, telling your kids to go fuck themselves is still frowned upon, so I have to give them a G rated version: “Santa is not real, you were adopted, the boogey-man is real and lives under your bed, now go to your room.”
So fuck buying kits, I just need assorted LEGO’s, which is where the LEGO Store comes in. They’ve got an entire wall of LEGO’s, in all colors and sizes. It’s fucking awesome, and I had to use all of my adult power to keep from dumping all of the bins out on the floor and just start building shit with my kids. “Sir, you cannot dump out the bins in the LEGO Store. And if you don’t stop spelling ‘Go Fuck Yourself’ in four foot high letters, I’m going to have to call security!”
And I was thinking about this and realized that they should do away with the play area in the mall and just replace it with a massive pile of LEGO’s. How awesome would that be? You could leave your kids there for hours while you shopped in peace, got a bite to eat, moved to a different state, etc. The mall, of course, would never do this. They’d be concerned over liability issues when a kid inevitably jams a LEGO 10×1 rail into his nose and self-lobotmizes himself. But you know what kind of kid does that? The stupid, moronic kind that is just trying to clean up the gene pool by offing himself before he procreates, so let’s not get too worked up over it.
But, yeah, the LEGO Store is totally fucking bitchin’, and I wish I had won the lottery this weekend so I could build a LEGO house, like this guy did.
On to the week you missed when you were looking for a black 7×2 LEGO. Wait, do they even make those? Maybe they meant an 8×2 piece, but there are only three in this kit and I’ve used them already. Fuck! Did the kids eat it? Or the dog? DAMMIT WHERE THE FUCK IS THE BLACK 7×2 FUCKING LEGO? I CAN’T MAKE DARTH VADER’S COD-PIECE WITHOUT IT, PEOPLE!
- On Tuesday, we all mentally imagined how we would break the news if we had to tell our child he was the son of Hitler.
- On Wednesday, we reveled in the soundtrack of a generation: the songbook of Bonehead.
- On Thursday, this guy.
- And on Friday, we taught our children that Satan is a good source of fruit.
Ok, whether they like it or not, here is a word from Wheaties. It’s Involuntary Advertising.
On to the results from last week’s poll, which asked which sport would be the hardest to play under the influence of LSD. The winner, as we can see below is hockey, picking up a solid 53% of the vote. Something about mounting yourself on extremely sharp blades, stepping onto a giant sheet of ice, and having 250 pound dudes check you into the boards and occasionally fire a hunk of hard rubber at your head doesn’t exactly make for the best tripping experience, does it?
[poll id=”3″]
The battle for second place is more interesting, in my opinion. I find it hard to believe dropping acid would make it easier to hit a 102 mph fastball, but hell, a pitcher once threw a no-hitter on acid, so I’ve got to agree with the results that claim football would be more difficult while tripping balls. I, personally, would melt into a puddle of fear just looking at the steroid-feuled behemoths lining up across from me. Kind of hard to “execute” when you’re being scraped off of the other team’s cleats.
Ok, another week is upon us. Go out there and make me proud. Oh, and hey… Let’s be careful out there.
I love the LEGO stores, but somehow still end up stepping on them, even when they’re still at the store!
As for my inner kid, I’m the proud owner of two LEGO Star Wars Keychains.
Yes, the hierarchy of pain when it comes to stepping on toys goes LEGOs > Army Men > Matchbox cars.
We were at Barnes and Nobel this weekend and they had the Architecture sets- where you can make the Seattle Space Needle and the Frank Lloyd Wright kits. SO amazing.
I know! I bought the Sears Tower. (I will NEVER call it the Willis Tower. That’s just fucking stupid.)
Willis tower?? What?? I haven’t heard about this.
Yeah, Sears has fallen on hard times and no longer owns naming rights.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Willis_Tower#Naming_rights
Love LEGO stores. We always make the trip to see LEGO exhibits if they are close enough. People do some amazing things with them.
Seriously, the fact that you can build a house with them? Awesome. I don’t see anyone doing that with fucking Polly Pockets.
Mother.
Fucker.
You obviously haven’t read my posts about clowns.
Especially Clown Pedarists. Wait, that’s the same thing as saying Clown Clowns. Anyway I fucking hate clowns.
As for Legos, my mom was the kind of mom where if you didn’t play with something for a day she would give it away to a family in need. She gave away everything we had to family in need. I needed some of my goddamned toys mom! Anyway, we had a whole bucket of legos. I never asked for help building dick. I played quietly by myself building landscapes. And situations. Like helicopter pads outside a small cottage for people who lived in Alaska who had a son who broke his neck.
You can’t fuck with genius like that. One day she just gave the bucket away. Probably right in the middle of me playing with it.
You know what hurts worse than stepping on a Lego?
Nothing.
I’m with you on clowns. I’m not like those people who fear them, I just think they suck. And they’re unfunny. I actually wrote a post about them somewhere… Oh yeah, that must’ve been before you arrived:
“When was the last time you laughed at a clown that wasn’t on fire? When you were, what, three? Clowns are really fucking unfunny.”
http://dogsondrugs.com/2011/12/05/weekly-hypothetical-how-many-clowns-can-you-fit-in-a-biplane/
Oh yeah? Well boom: 10 reasons to hate CLOWNS
http://the-pish-posh.blogspot.com/2011/12/clowns.html
I still buy LEGO (I am addicted to the surprise of the minifigure blister packs). I have no kids, I live by myself, I don’t own a house, and therefore I have lots of disposable income. I know I’m bragging, its awesome.
A word of warning for those who go into the LEGO store without kids. Make sure you shower and shave, so as not to be mistaken for the man in the van with “free puppies” on the side
Similarly, don’t ask kids you don’t know if they’d like to see some magic. That is how Doug Henning got busted.
My very favorite line is your answer to “daddy, why are legos things?”. It’s like when my 3-year-old drops my iPad on the floor and asks ,”why dat happen?”
My five year old, especially, will stup me with the weirdest questions.
“Daddy, is Up a real story?”
“No, buddy, it’s make believe.”
“Why is it make believe?”
“Uhh, because it didn’t happen.”
“But why didn’t it happen?”
“Wha… What?”
“Why didn’t it happen?”
“Why didn’t an elderly widower inflate a zillion balloons and float his house to South America to frolic around around with talking dogs? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe they’d felt it had been done before.”
“Why?”
Geez, you’re piss weak on the answers. Why didn’t blah blah happen Daddy? BECAUSE IT IS IMPOSSIBLE, THAT’S WHY. I’M A GROWNUP AND I’M TELLING YOU THIS. GO TO SLEEP.
Maybe without all those capital letters.
You know, I’m pretty sure that if you HAD dumped out all the lego bins, at least five other dads would have got down on the floor to build shit with you.
My sister-in-law has a bazillion legos floating around her purse. When her kid gets cranky at a restaurant she dumps it out, which quiets him for all of 2 seconds before he starts in on everyone. ‘Build me a lion!’ ‘Build me Iron Man!’
Since when are legos a spectator sport?
My three year old just graduated to creating his own “LEGO guys”, so I’m now off the hook. Finally. Before that I was his LEGO bitch, only he could never do anything easy like building a block. It was always, “Make Mario! And Luigi!”
I like duplos better. You can’t make as cool of stuff with them but they don’t wind up sticking you in the ass because your kid thought it’d be hilarious to put a microscopic lego in your bed. And then you’re up at 1 am tearing your bed apart, cursing, and wondering if maybe that sharp pain wasn’t really a cancerous tumor that’s been growing inside your body for a long time and is now getting ready to kill you. So instead of continuing to look for the culprit you stay up all night writing your will and goodbye letters and some kiss-off letters to people you really don’t like and then the next day you send those letters. But then later you find that damn LEGO piece and you have to go into work and apologize to your boss for that letter you sent him that said he was moronic douchebag who was about as interesting as melted jello and just as useful.
Yea, other than that LEGOs are very cool.
Jesus, here’s a hint for you: Stay away from the malignant growth LEGO-pancreas set. It’ll just wig you out.