Readership, in the past four days I've noticed something that I've found quite strange. Between my time spent in the club on Saturday night, and my time spent watching a Wale video (with no sound) while at breakfast, I noticed that when people wear fitted caps (such as those from Lids), they have this strange tendency to spin them around and continuously rearrange them on their heads, constantly, and for seemingly no reason.
I looked at people wearing other types of headwear, however, and noticed a distinct lack of constant rearrangery - and shockingly, non-fitted caps (even of the same team as their fitted counterparts!) were not constantly rearranged and spun around the dome. Ski caps remained firmly in place (even if "in place" equated to dangerously dangling off the back of the head, in most cases), skullies weren't messed with, and the only possible exception was fedoras, which were given that little swipe across the front of the brim to accentuate the fact that the person was, indeed, wearing a sexy-ass fedora.
This leads me to postulate that there is something inherent in Fitted Caps (as they are now known to be some kind of unexplained entity, their name will become a proper noun) that almost forces someone to constantly arrange and rearrange them while wearing them, which serves no purpose practically or aesthetically.
With that said, I go further and theorize that Fitted Caps were invented and developed by the Feds, and as soon as they touch someone's head, they begin to secretly leech out information pertaining to whereabouts, illegal habits, and daily schedules. Every time information is leached and transmitted, the Fitted Cap sends a signal directly into your nervous system that makes you raise your arm up and rearrange the Fitted Cap, so it can get at a different area of your cortex and get more information. It's all a part of what I like to call the Federal Keeping the Black Man Down Act. Allow me to explain this a little further.
The Federal Keeping the Black Man Down Act was secretly enacted in 2009 after Oprah used her considerable influence to push it quietly through the House and the Senate, and since Oprah is Oprah, Barrack Obama signed that shit into law without hesitation.
IT'S NOT HIS FAULT. THIS IS OPRAH WE'RE TALKIN' ABOUT HERE.
I digress.
Don't take this the wrong way, but if there was a chart that displayed which ethnic group wore fitted caps most by percentage, African Americans would be at the top - and the government knows this (fucking Census!), and uses the Fitted Caps to implement the Federal Keeping the Black Man Down Act and exploit this knowledge.
That said, don't think that just because you're not black that the Federal Keeping the Black Man Down Act doesn't work on you. The Federal Keeping the Black Man Down Act works on EVERYBODY - all you have to do is wear a fitted. How do you think they caught Bernie Madoff? He was in the mall, saw a Lids store and thought "hmm. maybe I should go see about copping me the ill Yankees fitted, perchance?" The minute he tried that first Fitted Cap on, the FBI froze his assets and by the time he got home they were waiting to bust his ass and steal his Coldstone (cuz he got some on the way out of the mall).
So yeah. Beware the Fitted Caps!
And whatever you do
Stay classy
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
A Long (and Long-Overdue) Rant
Readership, I apologize. I feel that I've been very on and off with you this month. Looking at the number of Observations for this month, and the spacing of them time-wise throughout the month, it doesn't seem like I've been so spotty, but I can't shake the feeling that I have.
But fear not! In this one day I've witnessed and read about several things that pissed me right the hell off, and thus, you're in for a muchly needed, long-overdue rant. Enjoy!
These past few months in the Tri-State area, it's been raining like a bitch. There have been miniature swamps that I've had to ninja over. And it's been sneakily heavy sometimes too, like a fat ninja (aka Finja). I'd be walking and suddenly HELLO FUCKING DOWNPOUR.
With this knowledge under our belts, I put the question to you: why do people wear FLIP-FLOPS WHEN IT'S RAINING CATS AND DOGS? Do you LIKE that dirty wet feeling between your toes, borne of rain and/or dirty ass puddles with dog shit and God knows what else floating in it?
Oh you do? Cool.
Secondly, people who air out their private business in very public places, like, I dunno, Facebook. There was this couple last year that I was friends with on Facebook (I won't name names, because I'm not an asshole), that was on again, off again, on again, off again - every few fucking days they were back and forth between "go fuck yourself!" and "I luv youuuu <333" and it was the most annoying thing ever. There was one status that the guy had, which was something like "I'm losing the one thing that means the most to me, and there's no way I can stop it." I can sympathize with that, because I've been there too.
But then the chick comes through talking all this shit, and he's trying to get a word in but she's just shitting on him again and again and again, until he was just like "I'm done." But of course, she kept going. I logged on Facebook and saw this fucking EPIC POEM and I thought to myself "seriously? what the fuck."
THE PHONE WAS INVENTED FOR A REASON. You don't wanna hear his/her voice? It'll cause too much pain? TEXT THAT BITCH/ASSHOLE. Jump on AIM. If you HAVE to be on Facebook, there's this lovely thing called Facebook Chat. It's like AIM, but on Facebook. And if you don't like that (and nobody does), there are always private messages you can send on Facebook.
Point is: DON'T AIR YOUR PRIVATE SHIT OUT IN PUBLIC, YOU'RE PISSIN' PEOPLE OFF.
Thirdly, courtesy of Carlos aka Pimp-C. There are a couple ways to see what's for dinner when you walk into a dining hall. One, depending on how the place is laid out, you might be able to see what's good for food from the door. Also, you could see what people have on their plates. Third, if you're possessed of a sensitive nose, you can sniff out what's cookin'.
There's one way, however, that you don't want to find out what's for dinner: by seeing it BEING CHEWED INSIDE SOMEONE'S MOUTH.
HEY! LLAMA-LOOKIN', MOUTH-BREATHIN' DOUCHEBAGS! CLOSE YOUR MOUTH WHEN YOU CHEW! Ain't your momma taught you any better than that? Shit.
Lastly, this is probably one of the most annoying things that's happened to me this month. Tonight, I was in Monty's (the main dining hall on campus), making a sammich. The way they have the sammich-making area laid out is as follows: first, there's the bread. There's white, wheat, and some other weird brown shit, and then rolls (kaiser, hoagie, etc.). Then there's the meat (ha), which is usually ham, turkey and roast beef/corned beef. Then there's the cheese (American and Swiss, sometimes provolone too), and then the salad-ish shit (egg salad, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, etc.).
So. I had my bread, and I had grabbed my meat (ha), and I was going to grab some cheese, waiting in line behind this (kinda cute) girl. She smiled at me before she left with her sammich. I noticed this kid standing sort of awkwardly behind the two of us, not in line, and I was thinking "what the hell is this kid doing?" But I didn't give a fuck (per usual), so I went ahead and started grabbing my cheese. He slides in front of me grabbing some lettuce to put on his burger (like a bitch). I got a slice of provolone and two slices of Swiss (which were all in the same little receptacle), and then went to go grab some American cheese.
Then this motherfucker reached across me, underneath my arms and plate, to try and grab some shit behind me. I stopped dead and looked him dead in the eye. AND HE HAD THE NERVE TO LOOK AT ME AND CONTINUE. I was like "what the fuck dude." And he just sorta looked at me like I was a retard. AS IF THE RETARD WERE ME, NOT HIM!
THAT'S WHY THERE'S A LINE, DICK!
Whew.
Readership, again, I apologize for the spottiness of my shenanigans. I'll try to keep it more regular in the future. It'll be as if the blog started taking Benefiber.
Ha.
Stay classy
But fear not! In this one day I've witnessed and read about several things that pissed me right the hell off, and thus, you're in for a muchly needed, long-overdue rant. Enjoy!
These past few months in the Tri-State area, it's been raining like a bitch. There have been miniature swamps that I've had to ninja over. And it's been sneakily heavy sometimes too, like a fat ninja (aka Finja). I'd be walking and suddenly HELLO FUCKING DOWNPOUR.
With this knowledge under our belts, I put the question to you: why do people wear FLIP-FLOPS WHEN IT'S RAINING CATS AND DOGS? Do you LIKE that dirty wet feeling between your toes, borne of rain and/or dirty ass puddles with dog shit and God knows what else floating in it?
Oh you do? Cool.
Secondly, people who air out their private business in very public places, like, I dunno, Facebook. There was this couple last year that I was friends with on Facebook (I won't name names, because I'm not an asshole), that was on again, off again, on again, off again - every few fucking days they were back and forth between "go fuck yourself!" and "I luv youuuu <333" and it was the most annoying thing ever. There was one status that the guy had, which was something like "I'm losing the one thing that means the most to me, and there's no way I can stop it." I can sympathize with that, because I've been there too.
But then the chick comes through talking all this shit, and he's trying to get a word in but she's just shitting on him again and again and again, until he was just like "I'm done." But of course, she kept going. I logged on Facebook and saw this fucking EPIC POEM and I thought to myself "seriously? what the fuck."
THE PHONE WAS INVENTED FOR A REASON. You don't wanna hear his/her voice? It'll cause too much pain? TEXT THAT BITCH/ASSHOLE. Jump on AIM. If you HAVE to be on Facebook, there's this lovely thing called Facebook Chat. It's like AIM, but on Facebook. And if you don't like that (and nobody does), there are always private messages you can send on Facebook.
Point is: DON'T AIR YOUR PRIVATE SHIT OUT IN PUBLIC, YOU'RE PISSIN' PEOPLE OFF.
Thirdly, courtesy of Carlos aka Pimp-C. There are a couple ways to see what's for dinner when you walk into a dining hall. One, depending on how the place is laid out, you might be able to see what's good for food from the door. Also, you could see what people have on their plates. Third, if you're possessed of a sensitive nose, you can sniff out what's cookin'.
There's one way, however, that you don't want to find out what's for dinner: by seeing it BEING CHEWED INSIDE SOMEONE'S MOUTH.
HEY! LLAMA-LOOKIN', MOUTH-BREATHIN' DOUCHEBAGS! CLOSE YOUR MOUTH WHEN YOU CHEW! Ain't your momma taught you any better than that? Shit.
Lastly, this is probably one of the most annoying things that's happened to me this month. Tonight, I was in Monty's (the main dining hall on campus), making a sammich. The way they have the sammich-making area laid out is as follows: first, there's the bread. There's white, wheat, and some other weird brown shit, and then rolls (kaiser, hoagie, etc.). Then there's the meat (ha), which is usually ham, turkey and roast beef/corned beef. Then there's the cheese (American and Swiss, sometimes provolone too), and then the salad-ish shit (egg salad, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, etc.).
So. I had my bread, and I had grabbed my meat (ha), and I was going to grab some cheese, waiting in line behind this (kinda cute) girl. She smiled at me before she left with her sammich. I noticed this kid standing sort of awkwardly behind the two of us, not in line, and I was thinking "what the hell is this kid doing?" But I didn't give a fuck (per usual), so I went ahead and started grabbing my cheese. He slides in front of me grabbing some lettuce to put on his burger (like a bitch). I got a slice of provolone and two slices of Swiss (which were all in the same little receptacle), and then went to go grab some American cheese.
Then this motherfucker reached across me, underneath my arms and plate, to try and grab some shit behind me. I stopped dead and looked him dead in the eye. AND HE HAD THE NERVE TO LOOK AT ME AND CONTINUE. I was like "what the fuck dude." And he just sorta looked at me like I was a retard. AS IF THE RETARD WERE ME, NOT HIM!
THAT'S WHY THERE'S A LINE, DICK!
Whew.
Readership, again, I apologize for the spottiness of my shenanigans. I'll try to keep it more regular in the future. It'll be as if the blog started taking Benefiber.
Ha.
Stay classy
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Common Sense . . .
. . . is, clearly, not so common. As is evident by my rants, if it WERE common, I'd be out of a blog.
That is all.
Stay classy
That is all.
Stay classy
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Play-Doh Upsets Me
Readership, there are many things that upset me in this world, as you very well know. Sometime in the wee hours of this morning, another came to my attention. But I was so exhausted that I knocked out, and I couldn't remember it when I woke up later. I just remembered what it was: Play-Doh.
Now unless you're a Communist, you've played with Play-Doh at least once in your life. It was fun when we were kids. We'd make snakes and little people with faces and shit. And then the geniuses at Hasbro decided "hey... let's make play-sets that allow kids to make FOOD out of Play-Doh!"
I'm gonna pause here and drop a little bit of side knowledge for you, free of charge: kids are retarded. I knew a kid once that ate a Crayola crayon JUST because it was called "Macaroni & Cheese." So yeah. Kids are retarded.
I digress.
So here these (retarded) kids are, making food-shaped shit out of Play-Doh. And it looks real as hell at first glance. Especially the ice cream. They even have a Play-Doh ice cream server, and a little thing that makes sprinkles out of Play-Doh. But then you get THIS bullshit.
"Fun to play with, not to eat!"
The fuck!? So I'm gonna spend all this time making this ice cream out of Play-Doh and making it look all delicious and shit . . . and then take it back apart and put it away? How much fucking sense does that make?
All together now . . . "bottled water."
Some ol' bullshit.
Stay classy
Now unless you're a Communist, you've played with Play-Doh at least once in your life. It was fun when we were kids. We'd make snakes and little people with faces and shit. And then the geniuses at Hasbro decided "hey... let's make play-sets that allow kids to make FOOD out of Play-Doh!"
I'm gonna pause here and drop a little bit of side knowledge for you, free of charge: kids are retarded. I knew a kid once that ate a Crayola crayon JUST because it was called "Macaroni & Cheese." So yeah. Kids are retarded.
I digress.
So here these (retarded) kids are, making food-shaped shit out of Play-Doh. And it looks real as hell at first glance. Especially the ice cream. They even have a Play-Doh ice cream server, and a little thing that makes sprinkles out of Play-Doh. But then you get THIS bullshit.
"Fun to play with, not to eat!"
The fuck!? So I'm gonna spend all this time making this ice cream out of Play-Doh and making it look all delicious and shit . . . and then take it back apart and put it away? How much fucking sense does that make?
All together now . . . "bottled water."
Some ol' bullshit.
Stay classy
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Uh. BACK THE FUCK UP!
Readership, lately I've been going to the gym semi-regularly (I try to go at least once a week, ideally twice; I don't live on campus and I'm often too lazy to walk my ass out there). As anybody who has gone to a gym and/or has seen any fictional representation of a gym (on television, in a movie, etc.) knows, the average gym has a lot of exercise equipment in it. Also, if you have any common sense, you know that these machines, if used incorrectly, can cause a lot of physical harm, and in some extreme cases, death. You don't want to be in someone's space while they're using these machines, because it could end up hurting you or the person that's using it, or both.
So why do people think it's cool to walk within like five inches of me while I'm doing some exercise thing that clearly requires you to STAY THE FUCK BACK? And the worst part is, when I have to stop abruptly mid-rep (which is definitely not good for my muscles and bones and tendons and shit), because some DIPSHIT decided they couldn't wait TWO SECONDS for me to finish the rep before they tried to pass, they look at me like I'M the asshole.
Excuse me for making sure that I didn't fucking CRUSH you with 80 pounds of machine - at risk of physical harm to myself - because you decided you couldn't POSSIBLY wait one more second, and that you absolutely HAD to run by me at that EXACT moment, mid-rep. Because CLEARLY, that makes ME an asshole.
Fucker.
Stay classy
So why do people think it's cool to walk within like five inches of me while I'm doing some exercise thing that clearly requires you to STAY THE FUCK BACK? And the worst part is, when I have to stop abruptly mid-rep (which is definitely not good for my muscles and bones and tendons and shit), because some DIPSHIT decided they couldn't wait TWO SECONDS for me to finish the rep before they tried to pass, they look at me like I'M the asshole.
Excuse me for making sure that I didn't fucking CRUSH you with 80 pounds of machine - at risk of physical harm to myself - because you decided you couldn't POSSIBLY wait one more second, and that you absolutely HAD to run by me at that EXACT moment, mid-rep. Because CLEARLY, that makes ME an asshole.
Fucker.
Stay classy
Monday, March 15, 2010
Why Do You Say Such Stupid Shit? Volume 7
Readership, I'm back. Yes, back. Again. With yet ANOTHER installment of the only regular "columns." I have to ask, Readership: Why do you say such stupid shit? Volume 7.
First off, from my homeslice Sam aka Sam-E: "What's good?"
There are a lot of things that are good. Sex is good. Beer is good. Food is good. Music is good. Sleep is good.
However, if someone were to come to you and say "Hey bro what's good?" and you were to respond with "sex," while you'd be 100% correct, they wouldn't be too happy with you. But fuck it, do it anyway. And let me know how they react.
Secondly, courtesy of Waldy aka Sh80 (he didn't like Waffles so we switched it up), we have "dead ass."
What THE fuck. "Dead ass?" How do you figure that is an affirmative statement? A dead ass is nothing that I'd want around me. Makes no got-damn sense.
Lastly, "who's laughing now?" Scenario:
Super evil guy has a plot to take over the world. His plot involves shooting dark matter into the atmosphere. Super good guy snags him just before he fires the dark matter cannon, in a harrowing move that leaves four dead and countless wounded in a collapsed building. Lots of sadness, even though it was resolved relatively positively. Fast forward a week, and now super good guy has been captured by super evil guy, who has him dangling from some evil sort of super death trap involving a vat of molten gold. Super evil guy says something along the lines of "Well, Mr. Super Good Guy, who's laughing NOWWWW!?"
Uh . . . who the fuck was laughing BEFORE? Did you not see the massive crater that used to be a building where all those people died?
Not funny, dick.
Stay classy
First off, from my homeslice Sam aka Sam-E: "What's good?"
There are a lot of things that are good. Sex is good. Beer is good. Food is good. Music is good. Sleep is good.
However, if someone were to come to you and say "Hey bro what's good?" and you were to respond with "sex," while you'd be 100% correct, they wouldn't be too happy with you. But fuck it, do it anyway. And let me know how they react.
Secondly, courtesy of Waldy aka Sh80 (he didn't like Waffles so we switched it up), we have "dead ass."
What THE fuck. "Dead ass?" How do you figure that is an affirmative statement? A dead ass is nothing that I'd want around me. Makes no got-damn sense.
Lastly, "who's laughing now?" Scenario:
Super evil guy has a plot to take over the world. His plot involves shooting dark matter into the atmosphere. Super good guy snags him just before he fires the dark matter cannon, in a harrowing move that leaves four dead and countless wounded in a collapsed building. Lots of sadness, even though it was resolved relatively positively. Fast forward a week, and now super good guy has been captured by super evil guy, who has him dangling from some evil sort of super death trap involving a vat of molten gold. Super evil guy says something along the lines of "Well, Mr. Super Good Guy, who's laughing NOWWWW!?"
Uh . . . who the fuck was laughing BEFORE? Did you not see the massive crater that used to be a building where all those people died?
Not funny, dick.
Stay classy
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Mixed Signals Can Eat a Dick
Readership, I was having a conversation via Facebook Chat with my homeslice Sam aka Sam-E, and we readily came to an agreement: mixed signals can eat a dick. Let's get into a scenario here.
Guy invites girl out for dinner and a movie. Everything goes really well - nice restaurant, pleasant conversation, lots of laughs, the movie is enjoyable - all in all, a perfect night for two. Guy brings girl home, maybe a peck on the cheek at the door, then they part ways. Girl updates her Facebook status, something to the tune of "had a great time tonight :)", which Guy likes as soon as he gets home and checks his Facebook. Next morning, Guy texts Girl "good morning :)" or something cute.
Fast forward a week.
Guy isn't responding to texts. Guy isn't sending texts. No communication from Guy whatsoever.
Well, now, ain't this some ol' bullshit. Not picking on guys, because girls are often guilty of this as well (and I've been on the "wtf" end of this situation a couple of times, myself), but still. What the fuck.
Now, sometimes it's an honest mistake. Some people are just really ignorant to the signs and signals that they're sending out to people, and are genuinely surprised when someone who they see as a really close friend of the opposite sex is suddenly nose to nose, alternating between the "kiss me" eyes and staring at your lips. I've been on both sides of that situation (both the ignorant mixed-signals-sender and the kiss-wanting-friend) a few times, and to be honest, I didn't even know what was going on in either case until it was far too late and awkward. Thankfully I've been able to re-establish relations with the females in question (for the most part).
I digress.
Next, there are those malicious bastards that see what they're doing, and continue to do it, knowing full well that they're leading someone else on. Then, when they realize that this poor bastard is far too deeply infatuated to play the whole thing off as a joke, they split, hence the "good morning text to zero communication" maneuver. Not gonna lie, I sorta did that once, but once I realized what was going on, I pulled back into distant friend mode and everything's been working out pretty well since.
But yeah. Mixed signals can eat a massive dick. Especially if they're intentionally mixed. Like a dirty vodka martini of deception. Shaken, not stirred. Like your emotions.
I'm gonna stop now.
Also, I dunno if you know this, but this was my 180th post on this blog. Not quite a legit milestone, but definitely something I'm proud of. Thanks to all three or four of you who have been here since day one, and thanks to everybody that's jumped on since. It's good to know there are people who think what I'm saying is worth listening to.
And not that I have to tell you after 180 posts, but I'll do it anyway.
Stay classy
Guy invites girl out for dinner and a movie. Everything goes really well - nice restaurant, pleasant conversation, lots of laughs, the movie is enjoyable - all in all, a perfect night for two. Guy brings girl home, maybe a peck on the cheek at the door, then they part ways. Girl updates her Facebook status, something to the tune of "had a great time tonight :)", which Guy likes as soon as he gets home and checks his Facebook. Next morning, Guy texts Girl "good morning :)" or something cute.
Fast forward a week.
Guy isn't responding to texts. Guy isn't sending texts. No communication from Guy whatsoever.
Well, now, ain't this some ol' bullshit. Not picking on guys, because girls are often guilty of this as well (and I've been on the "wtf" end of this situation a couple of times, myself), but still. What the fuck.
Now, sometimes it's an honest mistake. Some people are just really ignorant to the signs and signals that they're sending out to people, and are genuinely surprised when someone who they see as a really close friend of the opposite sex is suddenly nose to nose, alternating between the "kiss me" eyes and staring at your lips. I've been on both sides of that situation (both the ignorant mixed-signals-sender and the kiss-wanting-friend) a few times, and to be honest, I didn't even know what was going on in either case until it was far too late and awkward. Thankfully I've been able to re-establish relations with the females in question (for the most part).
I digress.
Next, there are those malicious bastards that see what they're doing, and continue to do it, knowing full well that they're leading someone else on. Then, when they realize that this poor bastard is far too deeply infatuated to play the whole thing off as a joke, they split, hence the "good morning text to zero communication" maneuver. Not gonna lie, I sorta did that once, but once I realized what was going on, I pulled back into distant friend mode and everything's been working out pretty well since.
But yeah. Mixed signals can eat a massive dick. Especially if they're intentionally mixed. Like a dirty vodka martini of deception. Shaken, not stirred. Like your emotions.
I'm gonna stop now.
Also, I dunno if you know this, but this was my 180th post on this blog. Not quite a legit milestone, but definitely something I'm proud of. Thanks to all three or four of you who have been here since day one, and thanks to everybody that's jumped on since. It's good to know there are people who think what I'm saying is worth listening to.
And not that I have to tell you after 180 posts, but I'll do it anyway.
Stay classy
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Baby Geniuses? Chill
Readership, at the moment I am exhausted. However, I just saw a very troubling commercial, and since lately a) I've been thinking up ideas for Observations and then falling asleep and forgetting in the morning; and b) it's almost mid-March and I haven't made an Observation yet, I think I need to drop this Observation before I collapse and forget it when I wake up.
Whew.
I'm sure that you've all seen those commercials for that weird program that teaches two-month-olds to read. It's actually quite remarkable, and it works. There are all these toddlers that demonstrate either the ability to read, or if they can't speak yet, the ability to comprehend what they're reading (for example, pulling up their shirt and poking their bellybutton when "bellybutton" is presented on a flashcard).
I think it's a fucking abomination. Don't get me wrong, it's amazing and it definitely gives the children an AMAZING and priceless academic advantage.
But at what cost? Yeah, your kid is going to be a genius. But that means they're going to be skipping grades and shit. I'm all for kids getting ahead, but if they're gonna be graduating high school at like 12 with a bunch of older kids that are much more advanced socially and biologically, it's going to be incredibly awkward for your kid. If I had to choose between a socially well-adjusted above average kid and a socially awkward genius, I'd definitely choose the former.
So yeah. Welcome to March, I'm going to bed.
Stay classy
Whew.
I'm sure that you've all seen those commercials for that weird program that teaches two-month-olds to read. It's actually quite remarkable, and it works. There are all these toddlers that demonstrate either the ability to read, or if they can't speak yet, the ability to comprehend what they're reading (for example, pulling up their shirt and poking their bellybutton when "bellybutton" is presented on a flashcard).
I think it's a fucking abomination. Don't get me wrong, it's amazing and it definitely gives the children an AMAZING and priceless academic advantage.
But at what cost? Yeah, your kid is going to be a genius. But that means they're going to be skipping grades and shit. I'm all for kids getting ahead, but if they're gonna be graduating high school at like 12 with a bunch of older kids that are much more advanced socially and biologically, it's going to be incredibly awkward for your kid. If I had to choose between a socially well-adjusted above average kid and a socially awkward genius, I'd definitely choose the former.
So yeah. Welcome to March, I'm going to bed.
Stay classy
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