Why?:We Can't Have Nice Things
From Uncyclopedia, the content-free encyclopedia
Goddamn it Timmy! That lamp cost at least $27.99 and you just broke it by throwing your football around in the house! You sit around whining all day long that you can't have an Xbox360 or the newest Gamestation like that kid down the street, but you never consider WHY you don't have those things. Where the hell is you mother? MARTHA! GET THE HELL IN HERE!
Family Meeting Time
Alright everyone sit down, we're having a family meeting. No I don't give a shit if your chair is missing a leg. Actually that's what this family meeting is about. Now lately there have been plenty of requests for such trifling things as Gamestations, jewelery, toilet paper, running water, and food. It appears to me that you all think that money grows on trees, well it doesn't. Martha, if you feed me that line of shit about paper being made from trees and money from paper I'm going to really let you have it! Besides you ignorant wench, they're mostly made out of cotton anyway. If only we still had them dark fellas to harvest it for us...
Anyway, you all seem to be under the impression that I just have a limitless amount of money to spend on all your wants, but there are more important things that come first. You see your mother needs her Valium, lithium, Ritalin, and a whole other closet-full of pills; because ever since we had a kid (that's you slugger) she's been prone to severe bouts of depression. Of course, this means she can't work because the conflicting medications cause her to believe she's in Narnia half the time. That's also why we no longer get mail and how we ended up on the wrong side of a very large lawsuit involving a battle axe and the mail man... but I digress.
What I really want to Talk about
What I really want to talk about are the costs of raising a child. DON'T YOU ROLL YOUR GODDAMN EYES AT ME! Now a child costs between $80,000 and 11 trillion dollars to raise from birth to the age of 18. Do I look like I have 11 trillion dollars on me? Martha, don't you start talking about how I never paid my parents back and how I just slung them into a cheap nursing home that even the homeless eschew on account of how utterly horrible it is. THEY GOT WHAT THEY DESERVED! They never did shit for me, never gave me anything nice and used to go on long, rambling tirades about why we couldn't have nice things.
You see Timmy, the reason you can't have a nice new Gamestation or new shoes every year, is because you're a horrible little bastard. You break everything in the house! I don't know where you get it from! I really mean it, I'm not your real father and your mother was hopped up on so many drugs back in the day that she can't remember who all "seeded her field" if you get my drift. You don't? Well I was going to wait until you were 10 to talk about the birds and the bees, but might as well tell you now...
Oh Stop your Fucking Crying!
Just because you aren't my real son doesn't mean I love you any less, mainly because I never loved you to begin with. After all, the only reason I married your mother was because she said that you were my son and I didn't know how easy it was to do a paternity test at the time. And now look what's happened Timmy, you know how we have a radio instead of a TV? That's all your fault!
If it wasn't for you, I could be watching NASCAR right now and drinking lots of beer, but instead I have to listen to NASCAR and drink lots of beer. Let's play a father son game Timmy, catch the beer can! You're not supposed to catch it with your head you dumb kid! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?
WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET A G.I. JOE?
You get this at school from one of your friends or their "progressive", feel-good-ery parents who coddle their kids too much? WE DON'T NEED THEIR GODDAMN CHARITY! You already have toys to play with. You have that recycled material that may or may not be cat feces. To teach you a lesson, I'm going to melt your little G.I. Joe and then you can take it in to show-and-tell tomorrow and explain to the class why you can't have nice things like this. Look at that, he's melting and it's all because of you and your stupid childlike idiocy!
Ahh! I lit myself on fire and all this alcohol is just making it burn faster! MARTHA! Damn, she's passed out from all the pills! Timmy, call 911 and save your pap! Timmy? Where are you going? You cut the phone line you little fucker! IF MY LEGS WEREN'T CINDERS I WOULD... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!