Things I Learnt While Working At A Toys "R" Us Over A Weekend

1. Barbie is a whore who's made her millions roleplaying sex fantasies(sexy computer engineer, hello?) for trust-fund douchebags, i.e. Ken

2.Infant gyms are an excuse for parents to pretend their babies are action figures and play make believe with other parents for a few hours

3. Kids will stare at you if you play with the toys on display

3.1. A 6 year old can have a surprisingly hurtful cockstare

4. Kids can leave the house in glittery fairy wings and no one cares. I do it and I get stopped by the cops.

5. A tranformer toy that transforms itself is pointless

6.The line "Darling its better, down where it's wetter" from Little Mermaid's Under The Sea is a dirty dirty line when taken out of context. Moreso if you add the fact thats its being sung by a crab.

(thanks to michelle for that childhood raping gem)

7. Toys "R" Us staff are all either dead inside, or have the mental firmament of Jesus Christ himself.

8. If I ever have a kid, all he/she's getting are Lego's or books till they're old enough to have impulse control.

9. Stuffed animals with simulated bone structures are fucking creepy. Period.

10. If push came to shove I could justify buying an RM 500 AT-AT model as a social welfare donation i.e. it soothes my inner child thus preventing it from waking up in the middle of the night and killing vagrants.

11."MOMMY I WANT THAT MOMMY I WANT THAT MOMMY I WAAAAANT THAAAAAAAAAT!!!" sounds like its coming from inside your skull no matter how far the kid is from you

In closing, fuck kids. Condoms are too passive for me now. I need to aggressively prevent children. Im thinking "Penis Armor".

A momentary lapse of judgement

Over the years I've taken a lot of shots at religion and the dull-mindedness caused by religious wish thinking. My mind hasn't changed on this, not in the least. I have though, come to a realization.

Whenever I meet someone who confesses to have been changed for the better by their faith, for the briefest, tiniest of moments it is not the jagged edge of sarcasm or the fiery bloom of my own atheistic values and ideas that I feel rising in my chest, but envy.

Pure, immaculate envy.

The feeling floats momentarily in the pit of my heart like a lost puff of smoke, then gets overrun by the brash voice of my rational mind.

My heart yearns to believe. But the mind has had too long and too much evidence to allow such foolishness. It remembers the wars and the pain. The abject slavery of the infinite will of man. The purposeful tarring of our souls. Religion tells us we are imperfect incomplete beings. And I cannot stand for that.

I doubt that wisp of faith will ever be more than that. But it remains, that last sliver of the God within me.

Growing up in the 90’s: Your first recollection of desire was for a Disney Channel host. She smiles at you her jagged smile filled with CRT scan-lines, flips her Technicolor hair and then raises one delicate, dainty hand to introduce the anthropomorphized rodent god that you must worship if you want to love her. Ah, young romance.