October 9th, 2006


Town Hall vom of the week!

How I wish I was making this up: Feminists are the moral equivalent of man who raped and murdered Amish schoolgirls.

When you're done cleaning up after that, my new hero, Doug Giles, has Part Two of his "How to Raise Girls Who Won't Date Negroes" article up. Let's watch!

Hey, Dad—would you like to ensure that your daughter becomes an inept, stressed out, unconfident young woman who hates her body, gets easily depressed, has no self-esteem and who will probably have critical weight problems?

YES! TELL ME HOW! I like how he starts this out with "inept", implying that if you have self-esteem issues or weight probems or depression, it's probably your fault.

What about making certain that she’ll flaunt herself to get the attention of some Darwinian throwback, gold-toothed, rapping, Murphy’s-Law-personified thug so that she can be the chief hoochie in his up and coming booty video?

Whew, I was worried, because we had to wait until the third paragraph for the I-hate-niggers stuff. One thing, though: does Doug know what Murphy's Law is? Because it would seem like if you're making an up-and-coming video, you're not subject to it.

Or...or...would you like to greatly increase the odds that she’ll become a teenage sexual beastess, who (obviously) will have a better shot at becoming an STD wagon or a pregnant teen, who will then (in all probability) do a lot dope and drink booze like Ted Kennedy?

1. "Beastess"?
2. I keep trying to get something off the STD wagon, but it never comes by my house.
3. Does Ted Kennedy "do a lot dope"? Also, nice out there, with the in-all-probability.

You would?

YES! I said, YES. Come on already.

Well, then I’ve got some advice for you: You must detach from your daughter (like, right now), stay away from your home and let her know (by your actions, showing her no, or minimal affection) that you don’t really care about her life.

Boy, if only I had known it was that easy. Whereas, of course, nothing could go wrong by being a domineering, creepy, marginally psychotic, overbearing jackass who micromanages every aspect of his daughter's existence!

This lack of mental, physical and spiritual input from you, Daddy-O, will exponentially boost the odds that your young daughter will grow up to be more lost than Jenna Jameson sitting in on a Reformed Presbyterian symposium discussing the differences between supralapsarianism and infralapsarianism.

How about "more lost than Jenna Jameson sitting on her ass collecting gigantic royalty checks and laughing at all the suckers at the symposium"? Just wondering.

Conversely, if you do not wish an Anna Nicole existence upon your daughter and would instead like to raise a sharp, solid and smart senorita, then you, Father, must get off your beer-enlarged butt and get caught up in your chica’s life.

Boy, Doug likes the cod-Spanglish almost as much as he likes making fun of Anna Nicole Smith. At least he didn't say "zesty senorita" this time.

Listen, mentally-challenged man, your lady cannot raise your daughter alone—and even if she could, she doesn’t bring to the table that which a masculine man does. Period.

HA HA HA, yeah, what woman could raise a daughter by herself? THAT NEVER HAPPENS! And even if she could -- which she can't -- the kid will grow up totally screwed up because of the absence of your dick.

Period. I don’t care what any splooge-brain sociology teacher at Columbia says or what rancid Rosie propagates. Single moms (as great as some of them are), and/or a couple of lesbians (no matter how mannish they look and act) do not afford that which an involved, non-metrosexual father does.

Thank goodness he managed to slide in some fag-bashing there.

Raising girls that rock isn’t rocket science. So relax, Dad. You don’t have to start watching Oprah, Rachel Ray or the Bravo Channel in order to assist your girl. Simply let loose your natural, masculine instincts in their provisional and protective qualities on your little lady.

Whew! Thank goodness I don't have to do anything hard like watch TV. I don't have any idea what that last sentence means, though. Doug now reiterates his ten things to do to raise girls right; last week, we covered #1 (Teach Them How to Fight) and now it's #2 (Teach Them How To Shoot Guns, which seems like kinda the same thing, but it isn't).

With demoniacs now boldly going into Amish Schools and shooting innocent little girls, and with insane, should-be-dead-and-roasting-in-hell perverts and pedophiles prowling our parks and picking on our chicks, I’m a zealous advocate for women getting packed, stacked and ready to whack.

Man, I love the dudes who think the entire world is populated with sexual predators and that if you let your guard down for five seconds you'll end up stuffed in a drainage culvert. That's gonna produce some healthy children, that attitude! You bet!

Fathers, I wouldn’t have your girl learn how to just barely use a weapon; I would be aiming for her to be able to emulate Angelina Jolie’s character in Mr. and Mrs. Smith.


Yeah, I would teach her to be proficient in all forms of death dealing with all types of guns.

I mean, seriously. Again, I am very pro-gun, and I am all for women, or even teenagers, learning to use them. But tell me this sentence is not maximally creepy.

A mild .38 Special revolver, or a .380 automatic pistol plus a .22 rifle and a nice 20-gauge shotgun that fits her well (very important), is a good way to get the party started. A year of you and her regularly hammering targets down range should set her up to be a girl no one wants to get PO’ed.

What, no brand recommendations?

Finally, make sure she gets a “concealed weapons” permit as soon as she can.

AS SOON AS SHE CAN! Note that Doug recommends you get your daughter shooting at age ten, so I'm guessing he'd lobby for a concealed-carry tag by, I dunno, twelve.

The final 8 nuggets next week...

This is my FAVORITE PART OF THE ARTICLE. Because, see, what he's done is, he's written ten rules for how to raise a daughter. And to the first two rules -- fighting and shooting a gun -- he's devoted an entire week each. And to the next EIGHT rules, he's going to give maybe a PARAGRAPH! So, you know his priorities are right. You're the best dad ever, Doug Giles!


North Korea* has set off** a nuclear bomb***! We're**** all doomed*****!

*: The BAD Korea!
**: Maybe!
***: With almost one-two thousandths of the destructive force of the smallest nuclear bombs in the arsenal of the US Navy!
****: And by "we" I mean "all the North Koreans who are gonna starve to death over this"!
*****: Give it until tomorrow when the Town Hall crowd find a way to blame it on Democrats!
can you dig it?

Adon Polski

Monday, Monday! It's our doomsday! NOTE: if you are very, very nice to me, I might be able to rectify your answer to question #3. Comments are there for you if you need them.


Whose fault is Mark Foley?

He is the fault of homosexuals and their predatory culture.
He is the fault of liberals and their zero-values education.
He is the fault of the internet which is a moral sewer.
He is the fault of the demon rum.
He is the fault of Democrats, or, more specifically, Bill Clinton.
He is the fault of Hugo Chavez. Because, why not?
At any rate, he is CERTAINLY not the fault of the Republican Party.
You gotta quit reading Town Hall, Leonard.

Do you like your job?

I don't like it. I LOVE it! Also I am a tool.
It's a good job, if you gotta have a job.
It's a job.
I wouldn't say I like it. But...well, I wouldn't say I like it.
I hate it with the fiery malice of a billion suns.
I don't have a job.
I don't even know what a job is.
I am self-employed, which means hating my job equals hating myself. Which I do.
I like it more than it likes me.
I sho do like the MO-NAY!!!!!11!! !L!O!L!LZ!

Check any musical genre you feel is underrepresented in your collection.


¡Fidel Castro puede morir! ¿Reacción?

¡Adiós, malvada cabeza de la mierda!
¡Usted era un gran hombre, héroe de la revolución!
¡Finalmente, puedo comprar buenos cigarros otra vez!
¿Quién los exilios ricos y los Republicanos irritables se quejan por ahora?
¿Fidel quién?

Explain yourself.