Tuesday, 21 February 2012

House Rules for Not Looking Like an Asshole - You'll Thank Me One Day...

So, I've been doing some thinking and creeping some facebooks, and have settled upon some things that I think are absolutely ridiculous and will absolutely not allow my daughter to do when she turns 13 (or is any age) and is full of piss and vinegar.

"OK, Lauren," you are probably saying, "We'll see!".

Try me. I was raised by a father who once told me that the next time he saw me in a pair of tight or low cut jeans, he was "going to burn them". He was also quick enough at one point to tell me that yes, he could drive me to my friends house, just after he finished his lunch, and that would give me just enough time to change my shirt.

I was wearing a racer back beater. Hardly revealing. He got on like I was braless and had it on backwards.

This man, when he wakes to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, puts on his housecoat to walk from his bedroom to the bathroom, closes and locks the bathroom door, and closes the effing blinds. He lives with mom. 

Mom tells me this savagely and pauses at the end of the rant before muttering under her breath, "You wouldn't know but his penis was coming out of his forehead..."

Gross, mom. Dad doesn't have one of those. Also, dad would absolutely stroke out at the thought that the word "penis" was associated with him and on the internet. 

Finally, I was wearing a beautiful, albeit low cut dress to a friends wedding at the tender age of 24, and was married myself at the time, yet he still felt compelled to tell me that I looked like a stripper and he didn't like to see his daughter in a dress like that. 

Me in my grey "stripper outfit" - proof that my father is too afraid of nudity to actually go see a real stripper

Anyway, bottom line is, when you are raised by a man like that, you learn to do three things very efficiently: 1. Roll your eyes, 2. Do as you're told because there is no sense arguing, and 
3. Be insanely stubborn with your own children (or husband).

If I have inherited anything from my father, besides his nose and his enjoyment of spending money, this is it. 

Rule number one: No Emo Haircut. 

The picture I Googled also encompasses a couple of other rules that I will get to shortly. We will start, however, with the emo hair. 

What the hell are these girls thinking when they go for this look? The deep side part (I'm guessing to mirror their deep emotions at 15) and the glorified mullet that they blowdry across their face (I guess it helps them convey the image of being brooding and mysterious?). 

Why can't they just get some bangs? Maybe a couple of layers? Come off it guys, this haircut doesn't look good on anyone, and Avery, mommy is doing you a HUGE favor by not allowing you to get this stupid haircut. If I went to my hairdresser and asked for this, I'm pretty sure she would drive her scissors through my eye socket and spit on me. It would be an insult to her art. This is the 2012 equivalent to the 80's perm and we all know how that turned out now don't we? 

Rule Number Two: No Bleaching of the Hair

Very few people who have naturally dark hair can pull off platinum with any class. Outside of Marilyn Monroe, and Gwen Stefani, I don't really know anyone. Not to mention the fact that it totally ruins your head and you have to keep a serious eye on your roots which can get expensive when you're too young to go to work. Wahh wahh, you look like an idiot. 

Rule Number Three: No taking pictures of yourself while simultaneously pretending you didn't know it was happening

It just looks silly and everyone knows that you knew the picture was being taken, unless you have some kind of split personality whereby your arms and your face are controlled by two of your different personalities. You can see your arms, it makes everyone feel funny, just don't do it. 

Rule Number Four: No Writing Deep Love Letters to Your Grade 5 Boyfriend

If there is one thing that I know a whole lot about, it's looking like an idiot in a relationship. I won't get into the details because this is neither the time nor the place, but nothing makes your stomach fly out of your ass then when you run into your elementary school crush's mom in the supermarket 15 years later and she says, "Oh my goodness, the last time I saw you, you were writing the funniest letters to ____, my husband and I used to find them and have such a laugh!"

Awesome, can you pass me that bag of bean sprouts? I'm going to weave them together and fashion myself a noose so that I can commit suicide right here in the produce isle. 

All I have to say is, thank GOD there is a liquor store attached to the Sobey's on Kelsey Drive.

Thank. God.  

Rule Number Six: Do Not Bring a Boyfriend Home Whose Pants Are Tighter Than Yours

There are a few reasons why this is an important rule to follow. First of all, my father will, without a doubt,  refer to this boyfriend not by his name, but by the title "The Beatnik". 

I have heard him use this term several times when referring to several different boys that came through his house over the years, accompanied of course by one of his darling daughters. I have yet to find out what it actually means, but I know it's not good. Avery does not need to be embarrassed by her crusty grandfather making up names for her trendy boyfriend that haven't been used by anyone else but him since the 60's. 

Secondly, let's be serious. Do you really want a boyfriend who can borrow your jeans? And let's not forget, the testicles need room to breathe and any guy who wears pants like that is not going to be a great reproducer. Not that she'll have to worry about that until she's married, of  course. 

Finally, it would just look stupid when they were walking around the mall together. Him in his super tight jeans with his testes all squat up in that shit. Her with her symbolic emotional haircut. Come off it guys. You look like two assholes. You probably don't even know what each other looks like because you can't see anything though your thick stupid bangs. I hope you both walk into the glass doors going into the Gap. 

I feel like that might be all I can think of for now. I'm sure if I dedicated myself I could think of a shitload of stupid things that kids do now that they would get the shit bet out of them for when I was in junior high. Perhaps my next entry will be a list of rules to help Avery not look like an asshole. What a time that will be!!

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