Oh, how I wish I could travel back in time. Because if I could, I would totally make this Three Stooges short. Moe, Larry, Curley… and Miley???
Picture it. The Stooges are sitting in their room (bedroom/living room/kitchen) gathered around the radio. Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus comes on.
Moe: “Hey, it’s that Miley Cyrus dame.” Curly: “Ever see her dance? Hubba hubba!” Moe: “You said it, skinhead.” Larry: “Ah, she ain’t nothin’. I can dance like her.” Moe: “Shut up porcupine. I can’t hear the music.”
Larry stands up and starts waving his butt in the air. “Hey Moe! I’m twerking! I’m twerking!” Moe: I’ll show you twerking!”
Moe hits Larry on the top of the head. Larry, who had his tongue sticking out of his mouth like Miley, bites his tongue and screams. Moe grabs Larry by the belt, from behind, and hangs him from a hook on the wall. Moe: “Let’s see you twerk your way out of that!”
Curly: “You call that twerking? Watch this! Nyuck nyuck!” Curly stands up and starts waving his butt around, while moving backwards in circles around the room. Moe, caught behind Curly, has to run to avoid him. Curly: “Woooo! Woo woo woo! Wooooooo!”
Moe jumps on the bed. He reaches out and opens the door. Curly twerks out the door into the hall. Suddenly, a loud crash is heard. Moe runs out the door. Larry takes of his belt and falls off the hook. He runs after Moe, holding up his pants.
Moe and Larry see Curly with his butt stuck halfway through a door. He twerked into the door and smashed it. They pull Curly out of the door and they go back inside.
Moe: “Sit down you mental midgets. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Moe plays a single note on a harmonica, smiles, and starts a very sedate, deliberate twerk. Moe: “See boys? That’s how it’s done and no one gets hurt.”
Larry: “Ahh, you don’t know nothin’. C’mon Curly, let’s twerk!
Fade out on The Stooges twerking.
———-
Ok, it’s a little short, but you get it. Gold! It’s gold! The Three Stooges in Twerk Jerks. If you ever see it, you’ll know my time travel experiments paid off.
Today’s rage is courtesy of the indispensable WWTDD *(what would Tyler Durden Do).com. It’s a hilarious website, and well recommended. Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, if you’re one of those who hate strong language, I advise you to skip away and I’ll see you next week. Giant F-bomb dropping in 5….4….3….2…1……you’ve been warned:
FUCK HIPSTERS!!!!!!!
Why did I write these obviously well-thought out words? Well, let’s try this:
GREENPOINT — Pardis Partow decided to give her year-old son, Parker, some diaper-free time at home — much to the consternation of her Yorkshire terrier.
Because of Parker’s terrible diaper rash, the Bedford-Stuyvesant lawyer-turned-Reiki healer became interested in “elimination communication” — or EC, as it’s called— responding to her son’s cues for when to go to the bathroom instead of having to rely on a diaper.
The hope is for the parent to “catch” pees and poops — whether atop open-cloth diapers, toilets, sinks or behind the multitude of parked cars on city streets.
“Elimination Communication” – because babies are so always well-spoken and eloquent about when it’s time to shoot out this morning’s strained peas. It’s as if instead of just mindlessly pooping and then rolling around in it like babies usually do, they expect their super hip kids to sit up in the crib and go “Oh mother? I’m feeling a bowel movement coming up. Let’s say in about 5 minutes or so. Please get a copy of the Atlantic for me to read on the potty?”
Below: picture of stupid hipster baby, probably named Parker or Diwali or some other stupid hipster shit name
More nuggets (HA!) from the article:
This week is Go Diaper Free! Weekwhere I live in New York City, a holiday of grossness spearheaded by the assholes that follow this nonsense. So I got to see a hipster dad, handlebar mustache and all, get the “signal” from his baby at a restaurant, try to rush the defecating little bastard to the toilet, and not make it in time. This kid dropped a huge deuce right in the middle of the dining room. The poor bussers had to help this dickhead dad clean it up. He then sat back down and I heard him proudly explain this EC crap to his party.
Below: Picture of stupid hipster home
Yeah, I know I intermixed in two articles. I DON’T CARE! It’s the same stupid thing anyway. These people have set themselves up as some sort of pathetic poop whisperers. As if they have nothing better to do then obsessively stare at their kids waiting to discern when some fecal is going to make an appearance. I mean, what the hell??? Don’t these creeps have television? THAT’S UNAMERICAN!!!!! But seriously, it’s just another attempt by overly-vain losers to try to feel smug about something else. “Look, I’m so in tune with my baby that I know when he’s going to shat, and I know to run and hold a Tupperware under his ass.” WHOOPDE DAMM DO! I can’t think of a more useless talent in the world. This is on the level with twerking (warning: mild content). [NOTE: You can find this on Youtube but you will have to sign in to verify your age, which is stupid when you see what this is.]
and being able to shove a condom up your nose and pull it out of your mouth (warning: stupid content)
In the words of some guy on The Simpsons, that’s why they’re kids, because they’re stupid! Leave the babies do what babies do which is crap their diapers and smile. It’s one of the great benefits of being a kid, getting someone to clean up your poopie drawers. Because when it has to be done to us as adults, it’s kind of degrading and dignity-killing. Besides, what kind of parent engages in a practice that only has two outcomes: having your kid drop a nasty loose deuce in public places, or training them to crap into a Tupperware on command? EFF’EM!
Mr. Blog's Tepid Ride 
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