Big Bad Kimli the Child-Eating Internet Bully here, making a special appearance to blog about why I hate your children and want to eat their bones.
Mommy Sunshine Flower Kittens tweeted today about her Special Little Snowflake and how his poop was luminous with diamonds and fragrant like fresh cut grass and the finest perfumes the world has known, because billions of dollars and ideas and technological breakthroughs have happened in our lifetime so computers, the internet, and Twitter could be invented and used to tell the world about shit. Special shit, yes, but shit all the same.
I know I’m not the only person who is really disgusted and tired of seeing tweets that go into great detail about the shape, colour, odor, frequency and taste of children’s waste – I’m just the (mean, horrible) person who said something about it today. People agreed with me both privately and publicly, but since the words came from my fingertips, it’s just assumed that Kimli is going off on parents again because she totally hates children and while we’re at it let’s call her a bully who picks on people while stealing content and ideas to drive traffic to her site. Yep, that’s me in a nutshell. I haven’t had an original thought in my head in the nine and a half years I’ve been blogging and also people who aren’t me suck.
Since I’m already on the shit list – no pun intended – I might as well repost the thought that started it all: parents, no one wants to hear about your child’s bodily functions. I know you think your kid is the most amazing thing on the entire planet and everyone obviously shares your joy and delight at the things that ooze out of his or her holes, but you are wrong. No one cares. It is disgusting. If your child could voice an opinion, I highly doubt it would want you telling the world that it just made a stinky in it’s diaper and isn’t that cute and special. It’s not: it is foul and obnoxious. It is tasteless and revolting. The only two places in the world it is EVER appropriate to openly discuss fecal matter, be it your own or your child’s, is a) at a doctor’s office or b) at a scat convention. Twitter is neither of these things.
It’s fucking gross, okay. Stop it. There’s a reason I (rarely) go into great detail about the things that come out of our bodies: no one wants to hear it. I could go on for paragraphs about the amount, taste, texture, calorie content, pH level of Ed’s jizz – but I don’t, because I know I’m the only one who would get anything out of it. Some things are better left to the imagination, if that’s your sort of thing – why do you think they don’t show people shitting or pissing on TV? Describe it in books? Talk about it on CNN? Because it’s not fucking appropriate, and is no one’s business.
Yeah, I get that it’s hilarious that of all people to lead a parade on what is and isn’t appropriate, I’ve chosen to hoist the baton – but come on. It’s a universal given that shit is not discussed in polite society. People who talk about it like it’s a fascinating tidbit of science are broken people who’ve forgotten how to hold a real conversation outside of their little miracles.
Who’s the more damaged person here: people who are amazed by a natural bodily function, or me because I try to live a happy life? My comment about living a “happy little hilarious world” has been thrown back in my face twice in the last week like it’s something bad to be looked down on, and I’m amazed by THAT – not by what collects in your kid’s diapers.
Why do I hate children?
I don’t.
I think I hate YOU.
I’m on a horse.
(this post was password protected until the e-rage calmed down – I’m actually not at all interested in starting another me vs. them fight with parents)
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