February 6, 2006
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Today is the day to dance in your chair.
Hey Chicagoans: don't miss out on a very clever but nerdly named show coming up: Ctrl-Alt-Rock, put on by Chicagoist.
How to Talk to Your Wayward Teenager, According to This Site
Hey Kaitlyn. Wassup? Me and my baby daddy want to be all parlayin here with you in the living room. We have a wack situation here. We don't mean to get all up in your grill, but we think you're straight-up trippin'. We don't want you to think of us as your parents: we want you to think of us as your home-skillets.
Here's the 411. We got your report card today, Kaitlyn. What is all this ish we're hearing about you getting a B in honors chemistry? Now, we know it's been a minute since we sat down with you and done periodic table flash cards with you, but sometimes we parents worry and fear the worst. We gotta ax: are you smoking bammer? Have you been blazin'? Are you rolling blunts? You lighting up fatties? Is it 420? Is it the rock? Or are you just having a hard time with ionic bonds?
Here's the thing, Kaitlyn. We have to be firm. If you don't get those grades up, we won't be lending you the hoopty That means you can't take your little raggedy-assed hoodrat friends, Haylie, Haven and Shelby to the country club pool. You will not be allowed to go to Gwendolyn Parkington's Sweet 16 bang. And we certainly will not be giving you any dead presidents to buy some crispy bling-bling at Express. You better recognize! We are not joking around here, missy.
There's no need to cry, honey. Girl what you trippin for? Be easy!
Anyway, we hope speaking to you in words you could understand helped you. We just wanted to get things straight with your triflin' ass before we roll out to Daddy's client banquet.
Aight?Coo.