My Wish For America by A Conservative Dad

A conservative dad
Fireworks. One thing the Chinese can never take from us.

MY WISH FOR AMERICA

When my wife’s Chinese doctor delivered these two perfect little angels into my life, I knew that little Ronnie and baby-girl Reagan needed a strongman to fix this Land of Freedom for them. I had to stand up, turn off the Xbox and do what I could to help save this Great Country – the greatest country ever. I knew I had to do more than make their first words the pledge of allegiance. I knew I had to help make America great again. NOT THAT IT EVER WASN’T! But, more Greater. Again.

WE SHOULD STAND UNITED–

–under God.

I know this isn’t a popular opinion these days in America but God is Love. I didn’t make that up. You can read that anywhere. From in The Bible to the painted mirror hung over our couch. Is it so hard to unite behind Love? Do we even want the kind of people who can’t stand behind Love to be in our country? Amongst us? Come on. Not liking love is like not liking Christmas. And I don’t know anybody that doesn’t like Christmas. Well, other than Ahmed in the Engineering department. Or whatever his name is.

If we could just come together under one common purpose – LOVE – then all this bickering between the Righteous and the Libtards will go away. We can join together and stand against the inherent evils in this world like racism, murder, gun laws and China. It’s a great feeling, being united, in a group, where everybody agrees.

Look, God didn’t make America so we could spend all our time arguing over which person is more racist versus which person hates America the most. God made America to save the world, and if we could stand together – like we did on September 11th, 2001 – under the twin banners of freedom and love – then those transfellas that wanna become girls, and share a toilet with my daughter, Reagan, will see the light. They’ll say Look! Look at how awesome it is to be a soldier of christ! I don’t know what I was thinking back there about hacking my manhood off. I’d rather wear the breastplate of righteousness than a dress!

I won’t need to shame them into repentance. They’ll be overcome by the combined awesomeness of God and Old Glory. They’ll take “pride” in standing up for something that doesn’t involve which pronoun they answer to. These poor ladymen aren’t oppressed, they’re bored!

Nobody’s thinking about butt-fucking when they’re in a foxhole fighting for the greatest country ever to exist . If they ain’t sinning, they’re winning and I’ll take one of those reformed queers on my side any day. I would love to ask one of them how they stay so fit. And I would love to see each and every one of those Fruits in Heaven. I truly would. There is no hate in my heart. Hate the sin. Not the sinner.

Now I don’t want you to get all like this sounds like forcing religion on people. No. I respect the United States Constitution. I carry a copy in my front pocket everyday to remind myself I am in the greatest, most powerful, strongest country ever to exist. Not like North Korea. Ha! That shithole. I wonder what those people say about their country.

No. Unlike North Korea, this country has freedom of religion. Which is the ONE area in which I am pro-choice. There are so many different flavors of Protestant Christianity, preaching all different forms of the one true Truth, that people should be free to make a choice. You don’t have to be a Lutheran! We got all types of denominations. Even Non-Denominational! There’s like 8 or 10 translations of the one, true, Word. So that makes it easy. And if someone tries each one out, and nothing fits, they can always go Catholic. We have plenty of normal religion options the come with acceptable levels of superstition. We don’t need more. Don’t tell me you want a Scientologist on the Supreme Court making selling your stem cells to aliens mandatory. That’s not the America I wanna know.

Once our focus is off of each other, and on The Lord, it’s time to dig in and fix this Greatest Most Bestest Country in the History of Measuring the Greatness of Countries. And we gotta act now, before Bernie Sanders dumps his colostomy bag all over it.

Let’s stand together and stop the bickering.

NO MORE NAME CALLING

Stop calling everybody racist. It’s getting tired. You might as well be calling everyone a witch, like that Ocasio-Cortez tramp. The name calling has to end. I honestly do not even know what “racist” means anymore. The definition has expanded so much to include every white person.

Like when I say, “We gotta build a wall, now! Otherwise, these immigrants are gonna get in here and before you know it we’ll all be speaking Mexican!” Everybody tells me how racist I am. I ain’t racist! Mexican ain’t a race. It’s a country, and a language. I don’t think I’m better because I’m white. Race ain’t got nothing to do with it. I’m better than them, because I’m American. America is my team. I’m better than Mexicans, Indians, Arabs, and Africans but I’m also better than Canadians, English, certainly the Germans definitely those pussy French and ain’t no way I ain’t better than a Jap. Heck, even Barack Hussein Obama is better than them because at least we’re pretty sure he was born here.

I am sick of having to say this over and over again: I am not racist. Even my last car rental was Japanese. I don’t hate anybody. I preach love. Acceptance of Jesus. And a tolerance for me standing to salute my flag. Is that a crime in this country now?

MORE PATRIOTISM

That’s what’s wrong with this country. Everybody’s looking in the mirror, concerned about how many retweets they’re gonna get on Instagram, and not concerning themselves with what Sharia Law might be doing to the fibers of this country. We have to think together, as one, like a country. Like a Voltron made of 50, beautiful, sovereigns who all agree to think the same, that can bury Russia under the Northern Sea, NOW, and not have to wait for climate change to do it.

It’s time for people to stop thinking of themselves as unique, individual, special snowflakes, who deserve free health care just because they pay so much in taxes to fund wars. That ain’t how you win the Game of Thrones. And that’s what these pussies need to know is that countries are all playing a game and we are in it, to win it. What do we win?

All of it.

All I know is America is the greatest country God ever put on this planet. And that’s all I need to know. And that’s why we don’t need to pay teachers all that much. How much money does someone need to teach kids how great God and country is? That’s the easiest job in the world. That’s like teaching them ice cream is delicious and Disneyland is fun.

Come on, America. Let’s do this right.




My Wish For America by Liberal Dad

American dad with daughter
Who’s excited by fairness!

MY WISH FOR AMERICA

As a choice father of an intelligent, ethnically ambiguous, sapien – a sapien who identifies as a female and responds to the pronoun “she” – I am invested in the future of this country, this planet, the internet, the entertainment industry, politics, genetically modified foods, the workplace and everything else I have served up in a social feed. Because my child should be excited by the world she’ll inherit. Not scared that it will turn into the Handmaid’s Tale. Which is a legitimate fear considering who we have as president and all. The way he has spoken about certain women at certain times has been very rude. And rudeness is the first step towards sexually enslaving every fertile member of half the population.

But this isn’t about that man! This is about our country and how I see the future! And it’s nothing like a Hulu original. It’s more like a TED Talk. And if things work out right, it will be. I’m the last person on my block not to have a TED talk.

END RACISM

This is issue number one. America’s past is ugly. From the racist Columbus who, spearheaded Europe’s first White Flight, through today – where Latinx’s are purposefully underrepresented on Afternoon Network television. Are you trying to tell me there are no small claims judges of hispanic descent? Wake up America! Racism is worse than it’s ever been. Just turn on the news, every story is about racism!

Just this year there was the Jussie Smollett assault, that racist Covington High School class at the Indigenous event, Biden basically told Kamala Harris to get to the back of the bus. It’s been a great year for Nazis.

Now, I understand that two of those examples were hoaxes and one was a Democrat who I will vote for in a HEARTBEAT if there isn’t a member of a less represented identity group who gets the Democratic nod. BUT, that doesn’t mean that racism isn’t real, isn’t everywhere, isn’t infecting every one of us, right at this very moment.

You reading this online? You probably see a big white screen dominating little black letters. Just like America. Open the news. It’s story after story like those above. You can’t say racism doesn’t exist just because these stories turned out to be fabricated. Uh uh. You can’t prove non-existence. That’d be a logical fallacy. Pssssh.

But when it comes down to it, who cares what little pranks these people played when our Führer In Chief is out there tweeting at women of color (not only a protected class but also the largest human sub-category on the planet) that they should go back where they came from. That kind of behavior is unacceptable from a former beauty pageant owner. That’s not the America I’d like to know anymore. Not since my dad learned to stop saying stuff like that in front of me.

Some people just brush that kind of overt racist attack on . Some might say he’s just a misguided old man who’s under more pressure than he can handle. And maybe he’s running out of insults because this isn’t fun anymore. He thought he was gonna be beloved but he’s having his ego stomped on by a Congresswoman in her 20’s. How is this latest minor tweet storm any worse than his years long birther campaign? One might even ask. But that person is probably a Republican so they are W-R-O-N-G.

The Democrats have been desperately trying to end racism since the 1970s. Dems have been working on fixing racism since Lee Atwater stole the racist base for Nixon in the Southern Strategy. Racists used to vote Blue in the South from the Civil War until like 40 years ago. And while I don’t want any of them employed, it would be nice to have their votes.

I’ll admit, it’s gonna be tough to end racism when everything and everyone is racist. From Betsy Ross flags to Game of Thrones casting to every single mention of chocolate in any form. But that’s why we gotta keep calling out, every instance, no matter how minor, trivial or false. If we aren’t speaking out against the greatest threat to humanity (behind drinking straws), then racism wins.

How can you stay strong in your fight?

HAVE AN IDENTITY

When my lesbian best friends wanted to use my cis-sperm to make a baby, I was more than happy to oblige. Procreation is one of the most natural processes, and although I hadn’t planned on having a child, when Suze and Lilly found out the IVF worked and they had three babies inside of her, my biological clock started screaming and I offered to take the girl off their hands, leaving her brothers together as a unit. Suze and Lil’ were more than happy to oblige. Now I have my perfect little Michael and they can combat rape culture from the inside with the two boys. I hope those boys identify as strong feminist warriors and help keep their bio-sister safe.

What we identify as is so important, because it’s what makes us special. It’s where we find our strength to stand up to the racists. It’s how we choose to see ourselves when we look in the mirror. Not the way society expects us to look, or how Mother Nature made us look. It’s our own perception of how we believe people should see us and it is the core of everything to people who want to feel interesting.

My identity has become Father. I don’t care to bring up my dead identities – age, race, religion, etc. That’s my choice not to bring them up and it’s actually a trigger when people ask so I prefer we just leave it at: Father. Some are triggered in other ways, but this is my triggering. Please respect that.

I can’t wait to see what little multicultural Michael identifies as. She’s got so many options. Her grandma was part Hawaiian. And lots of different countries in Europe. Mainly England. So, pretty mixed. She’s young so she’s still got a couple of decades to figure out her sexual orientation. There’s no such thing as a wrong pronoun for her. I just hope she identifies as something interesting. Not just some boring old mom that stays home and raises the kids like my boring white mom did. But someone that goes to college and becomes something. Like the first civil rights attorney on Mars!

Whatever it is, as long as it’s not the four horseman of the Apocalypse: Straight, White, Christian, Male, I’ll still love her.

If we can end racism and learn to embrace each others identities then the things that push us apart – like each one of us having our own unique thing we identify as – actually bring us together. We can unite our conflicting, confusing, identities and stand together against the people who identify in ways we don’t like!

Doesn’t this feel good when we just embrace everything, no matter how batshit crazy, and just nod along so people don’t think we’re bigots? I love this feeling.

USA!




9 Ways Babies Are Not Shake Weights

Number 12 will make your head spin

Staying fit is tough. As parents our minds are always being pulled in different directions and sometimes things that seem obvious can confuse us. So we put together these 9 simple ways to tell your baby apart from your Shake Weight to avoid any unnecessary trips to the hospital. I guess we just care more than the other family news sites. Watch above, or read below!


Babies are great at working your patience but do nothing for your grip strength.


Shake Weights cost $30. Babies are free!


Babies evolved from monkeys. Shake Weights evolved from laziness.


You can’t just drop a baby off at Goodwill when you’re sick of using it.


Babies take all of your love. Shake Weights take all of your dignity.


Nobody’s gonna care if you steal their Shake Weight.


When you’re angry, you should never take it out on your Shake Weight.


Shake Weights are born potty trained…

…and the birthing process is much easier.

If you enjoyed this post, use those share buttons below to let your friends know how cool you are – reading these underground comedy blogs like some young, beautiful, college student.

THIS JUST IN: Your Family Perfect for Reality Show

Everybody’s family is special. But none so special as yours! Somebody should make a show about you guys and how unique you all are! Check out some of these unique families below and share with someone you’re reminded of!!

Your dad is hysterical, when nobody’s around! Stick him in a house full of strange production crew members holding cameras and he’s sure to finally turn that magic on in front of company for once! And grandma can be a hoot, sometimes, we’ve all heard. A thousand times. Watch out Kardashians, there’s a new family dynasty in town!


Your family is definitely pretty enough for a reality show! With your blended, mixed-race marriage and ethnically ambiguous, beautiful stepkids, you’re an advertiser’s dream! As long as dad’s hairline doesn’t go and mom’s underarms stay firm, you’re a shoe-in for 4-7 seasons! Especially if your exes are crazy racist! I smell spinoff potential!


When your soon-to-be famous faces are plastered on billboards and buses across America, you’re sure to turn heads with, whatever you call this arrangement. Are the men lovers? Are they brothers? Are they both? Who’s baby is it really? Holy shit! I just realized someone isn’t wearing their birth gender! Who is it? I guess you’ll have to tune in Thursdays this fall on some deep cable station!


Your family definitely needs a show! You had me at speedos, but then you have a bear?? SPELLING QUIZ: How many dollar signs are in the word ‘perfection’? CHA- CHING! Talk about merchandising opportunities! Little speedo-wearing stuffed bears will be flying off shelves from Target to TJ Maxx!


Oh yeah! Quirky Amy with the white dish. That’s as much a thing as hunting ducks, or having too many kids, or building motorcycles! I hope she has a blind allegiance to some fringe politician or a catch phrase or something! That’ll keep ya in the news cycle.


Stop the presses! Should I call the police or call my wife over to watch Family Who Has Been Kidnapped By Dad Wants to Scream For Help But Were Told If They Did Anything Other Than Smile, if They Even So Much As BLINK During This Secret, Soundproof Safe Room, Photo Shoot They All Woke Up in the Middle of After Being Drugged That He Would Send Grandma Feet First Through a Wood Chipper While She’s Tied Up but Alive So Just Smile Real Fuckin’ Big for the Camera that’s starting in 5 minutes over on TLC?


A PREGNANT JOHN LARROQUETTE!!!!!! And other celebrities! See which celebrity gets to carry their baby to full term, and whose chances will end early this fall on Birthing With the Stars!!!


Gay dads! They’re just like us! I’m guessing this’ll stream on Amazon.

While We’re Upgrading Every Bathroom to All Gender, Think We Can Add Changing Tables to What Used to Be the Mens Room?

Dear Dining Establishments of America –

I get it. You guys gotta cater to every group. That’s why every fast food establishment has wheel chair access for the crippled, double doors for the morbidly obese, and now many are including “all gender” bathrooms for men who wear makeup and go by Estrella. Cool beans.  You gotta keep your target market happy to stay in business, I guess. Quick question: How many of these post-ops are ordering Happy Meals? Never mind. But while you’re changing the bathrooms anyways, think you can do us dads a solid and give us changing tables in what used to be the mens room?

In a modern society where a growing number of households have a working mother, sometimes the dad has to take these little shits out to feed them. And sometimes these little shits, have little shits. My current modus operandi is just to change my shit-covered daughter on the table right there in the dining area. But a man can only half-heartedly shrug to so many gagging Taco Bell patrons before he says “enough is enough” and writes an opinion piece.

It’s bad enough that I have to wait for this (and I’m going to be politically correct here) “dude” to change “his” tampon before I can take a leak. And it’s pretty insulting that I can see the changing table in what used to be the women’s bathrooms as the gentleman ahead of me saunters in to piss on the toilet seat. But I guess America thinks it’s more important to cater to the 3 million Caitlyns out there wanting to feel pretty while they’re taking a dump than the 11 million Bruces out there with kids in diapers.

Look. I don’t give a shit who uses what bathroom. I just want changing tables in them. They’re not just good for babies. They’re also a nice, clean place to set your purse when you’re re-tucking your nutsack into your panties. And since you’re doing a politically correct re-mod anyways, why not be more inclusive of cis-hetero-binary-breeder-types – or whatever the fuck we’re called this week.

While you’re trying to be inclusive of everybody by opening your urinals up to everyone in pants, shorts or a dress, you’re actually reinforcing gender norms by only having changing tables in one bathroom. I want the same bathroom options as our gender breaking breth- and sis- tren: To choose whatever line is the shortest to take a piss and change my kid.



This Service Horse Rides For Free, But I Gotta Pay Full Price for My Emotional Support Wife?

Hey Wilbur.

When I read that Southwest Airlines was allowing horses on their planes as support animals, I was like “Hell yeah! Vegas, here I come!” But when I showed up with my Emotional Support Wife in tow and they were like “Where’s her ticket?” I was like “You gotta be kidding.”

Look, I don’t give a shit if you’re afraid to fly. I’m afraid to fly too. All the Budweiser in the world ain’t gonna give me sac enough to sit calmly in a hurtling death tube that sucks in air and farts out clouds at 35,000 feet all thanks to hundreds of gallons of combustible liquid yards away from my ass. I don’t know if I’m gonna land calmly at McCarran or screaming my head off slamming into the side of a mountain. Planes are scary. That’s why they serve alcohol.

I got shit that makes me worry too. What if I die?

Who’s gonna handle the bills? Who’s gonna teach my son to throw a ball? What happens if the water heater goes out? What if I die before I get a chance to clear my Google search history and my daughter finds it first? I don’t want her to remember me like that. She used to sit on my lap.

I get it. I get why we need to bring our animals on the plane. I just don’t get why this crazy bitch gets to bring her goddam horse on the plane for free, but my rock, my security blanket, my service animal – Rebecca – has to pay for a fucking ticket?

She’s got a pink vest. Just like that stupid horse. I even wrote “Do Not Touch” on it so people know the vest is legit.

I bring my Service Wife everywhere else that other service animals go and nobody bats an eye. Nobody says “no wives allowed, sir.” That would be discrimination. Discrimination against me and my mental incapacities. But for some reason these airlines think it’s like, goddam 1998 or something when it comes to Service Wives. You know, back in those intolerant days of airline travel where if you tried to bring a dog, or a horse, or a pig on a plane, you’d be laughed right out of the fucking airport lobby.

It used to be that if you wanted to bring a dog on the plane, you’d have to stow her in the cargo hold. Now they get to sit on your lap and bark at the squeaky wheel on the service cart. My wife can be just as annoying as that dog. She’ll even shit in the aisle if you pay her twenty bucks. She’s a hell of a gal. Your stupid dog rides for free. But my beautiful wife costs money like she’s some goddam piece of checked baggage or some shit.

I wanna fly. I really do. You can’t take those Sunset Station Casino player points with you! But I get nervous when I’m on a plane alone. And when I get nervous I breath real heavy-like. And then I clutch the armrests. Sometimes, I even close my eyes. That’s why it’s nice to have Becky there to calm me down and say “Here honey, have another drink.” If I didn’t have her there to lick my face when I’m scared, I might… be real scared. And that’s not something I should have to deal with for three to four hours of my life. I pay my taxes! Fear is not an option! I need comfort 100% of the time.

That’s why, I don’t think anything is wrong with having an emotional support dog, or horse, or turkey, or python. Whatever gets you through the hell that is sitting there, watching a movie, eating pretzels, on a plane. I just think it’s fucked up that when it comes to my emotional well being, I gotta pay a premium. I thought we were better than that.

These airlines are the true animals.