Jamie Three-Wolf-Moon is a Wiccan pansexual mommy blogger who was impregnated by Herpo the Klown during the 2011 Gathering of the Juggalos. She hopes to prove to America that Wiccan witches are not 300 pounds with dyed hair that has more split ends than the War and Peace: Choose Your Own Adventure Edition. Wolf-Moon herself is, but that's beside the point.
Dear Parents With Young Children in the Coven
You are doing something really, really important. I know it's not easy. I see you with your arm-folds bulging, and I know you came to the clearing in the woods already tired. Parenting is tiring. Really tiring. Like, if you happened to use whiskey and Vicodin to sleep through your baby's stupid midnight tantrums, I wouldn't blame you.
I watch you bounce and jiggle, and also hold a baby. You're juggling the diaper satchel and stainless steel pentagram amulet from Spencer's as you find a lawn chair. I see you anxiously produce a bottle containing Eye of Newt (lemon Kool-aid mixed with sprigs of spearmint).
And I see you with your little warlock and witchlette. I watch you cringe when your little girl asks where we get the cat blood in a voice that might not be obscured by the sounds of opening enchantments. I hear the exasperation in your voice as you attempt a Hex of Enduring Silence, but everyone's looking at you because they know you've never been very good at hexes. Not everyone is looking at you, but Steve is. Steve could do that hex in his sleep, and thinks you should spend some more time reading your Necronomicon.
I know you're wondering, is this worth it? Why do I bother? I know you often leave the coven more exhausted than you ever were before, your mana points all but depleted. But what you're doing is so important.
When you are here, the coven is filled with cries of discontent and despair. When you are here, the Cryptic Stench of Satan is more fully present. When you are here, we are reminded that this witchcraft thing we do isn't about forbidden sacraments or personal, odorous contemplation on our innermost dark enkindling. It is about coming together to sign our names in red in a community where muggles aren't welcome. When you are here, I have hope that these druidic circles won't be empty in 10 years when your kids are old enough to take up their own chalice of sanguine binding elixir (the cat thing, if you remember that from earlier). I know that they are learning how and why we worship now, before it's too late to prevent them from seeking a healthy body mass index or playing sports. They are learning that witchery is important.
I see them learning. In the midst of the cries, whines, and giggles, in the midst of the crunching of Pocky sticks and the growing pile of crumbs. I see a little girl who insists on going up to Warghoul the Everdreaded to show him a Spell of Coin Teleportation. I hear a little boy slurping (quite loudly) every last drop of his communal bat bile cup, determined not to miss a drop of Satan's sustenance. I watch a child excitedly color an inverted cross and ask why his friends from school kept saying it was upside-down. I hear the echoes of "Hail Samael!" just a few seconds after the rest of the coven says it together. I watch a boy just learning to read try to sound out the Incantation of Necrotic Resurrection or count his way from 1 to 666. Even on weeks when I can't see my own child learning because CPS thinks a few dozen cats makes a house unsafe for children, I can see your children learning.
I know how hard it is to do what you're doing, but I want you to know it matters. It matters to me. It matters to archdemons that guide our violation of the unjust rule of Heaven. It matters to the congregation to know that sheeple haven't completely taken over, to see young people...and even on those weeks when you can't see the little moments due to a no-contact order, it matters to your children.
It matters that they learn that witchcraft is what we do as a coven of mages, that every clairvoyant and seer is welcome, that their sorcery matters. When we teach children that their magic matters, we teach them that they are enough right here and right now as members of the coven. They don't need to wait until they can enchant, bind, and curse a certain way to be welcome here, and I know adults who are still looking to be shown that. It matters that children learn that they are an integral part of this coven, that their obscene declarations, their whispers to beings beyond the flesh, and even their badly timed questions about why they don't know how their daddy is are all evil noises that exalt our Dark Master.
I know it's hard, but thank you for what you do when you bring your children to the coven. Please know that your family is not tolerated by the servile slaves in the churches, but you will always have a place here among the intolerable.
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Chicken Soup for the Bizarro Soul: Dogs and Douchebags
Wild Dogs Get New "Leash" on Life
Bizarro Pittsburgh, PA (BP)- One mother's decision to dangle her 2-year-old child over a habitat at the Pittsburgh Zoo ended in tragedy for her family and triumph for a struggling pack of wild dogs.
African painted dogs are endangered, making the maintenance of a thriving population in captivity all the more important. However, the Pittsburgh pack's behavior wasn't encouraging.
"They were very lethargic," said zookeeper Troy Barnes. "Most of the pack ate sparingly, and seemed disinterested in maintaining natural pack dynamics. People don't realize that if animals lose their will to live, the result could be mass causalities."
These suffering creatures needed a miracle, perhaps a saving grace descending from the sky. And just before noon in November, 2012, that's just what they got. A delicious morsel named Madison Anthony came tumbling into the painted dog enclosure after his mother, Tracy Anthony, placed him on the rim for reasons that are yet unknown. The dogs sprung to life, filled with a vigor that hadn't been seen in nearly a year.
"They pounced instantly," said staff zoologist Kim Hopkins. "It was a clear display of pack dynamics and predatory instincts. The alphas and their subordinates behaved just as they would in the wild."
Evidently finding their new prey to be delicious, the dogs began to eat ravenously. Even those who had become malnourished through self-induced fasts joined in. The remains were retrieved by zookeepers and the zoo was closed for a clean-up and investigation. Tracy Anthony was released later that afternoon at her insistence that she was about to miss an awesome houseparty.
Nearly a year later, the painted dogs are still thriving, though they have been noticed stopping to stare at younger guests while wagging their tails slowly. Carefully.
"They've started to slow down just a bit, but we're exploring our options," Barnes explained. "I think our pack is going to be just fine."
Tracy Anthony is currently working on a book deal that she hopes will help alleviate her massive debts. The Pittsburgh Zoo is closing next Monday for a special guided tour for the children of Saint Mary's Home for Unpleasant Orphans.
Vegans Come in First(-World)
Bizarro Post Awards Bureau- The Guild for First-World Problems has announced the winner of 2013's First-World Problem of the Year medal. Petitions by vegans complaining about Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Latte takes home the gold with a unanimous vote from the First-World Bullshit Committee.
"Hmmm, yes. It is quite clear that our choice is incontrovertible. Quite," said Hubert Bumberpuss, Chairman of First-World Bullshit.
It's hard to argue the point. In a world gripped by gruesome civil wars, worsening environmental problems, and widespread poverty, nothing is more frivolous than vegans complaining about an overpriced sugar syrup drink not meeting their standards.
The GFWP determined the winner through extensive deliberation and research. Below is an excerpt from their completed Inventory of Frivolity:
WHEREAS vegans have such an abundance of food available that they have actively chosen to exclude a great deal of it.
WHEREAS fast-food coffee with novelty flavors represents a luxury item.
WHEREAS the vegans assert that the composition of a fast-food luxury item is an insult to vegans and lactose-intolerant individuals, despite the routine inclusion of dairy products in coffee additives.
WHEREAS customers have numerous choices in pumpkin spice beverages outside of Starbucks.
We the Committee of First-World Bullshit hereby certify the Petition to Make the Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte Vegan Friendly as the First World Problem of the Year.
The first prize includes public scorn, constant harassment through phone calls and emails, and a renewed sense of self-awareness that just might be enough to convince you that you're an irredeemable shithead.
Bizarro Pittsburgh, PA (BP)- One mother's decision to dangle her 2-year-old child over a habitat at the Pittsburgh Zoo ended in tragedy for her family and triumph for a struggling pack of wild dogs.
African painted dogs are endangered, making the maintenance of a thriving population in captivity all the more important. However, the Pittsburgh pack's behavior wasn't encouraging.
"They were very lethargic," said zookeeper Troy Barnes. "Most of the pack ate sparingly, and seemed disinterested in maintaining natural pack dynamics. People don't realize that if animals lose their will to live, the result could be mass causalities."
These suffering creatures needed a miracle, perhaps a saving grace descending from the sky. And just before noon in November, 2012, that's just what they got. A delicious morsel named Madison Anthony came tumbling into the painted dog enclosure after his mother, Tracy Anthony, placed him on the rim for reasons that are yet unknown. The dogs sprung to life, filled with a vigor that hadn't been seen in nearly a year.
"They pounced instantly," said staff zoologist Kim Hopkins. "It was a clear display of pack dynamics and predatory instincts. The alphas and their subordinates behaved just as they would in the wild."
Evidently finding their new prey to be delicious, the dogs began to eat ravenously. Even those who had become malnourished through self-induced fasts joined in. The remains were retrieved by zookeepers and the zoo was closed for a clean-up and investigation. Tracy Anthony was released later that afternoon at her insistence that she was about to miss an awesome houseparty.
Nearly a year later, the painted dogs are still thriving, though they have been noticed stopping to stare at younger guests while wagging their tails slowly. Carefully.
"They've started to slow down just a bit, but we're exploring our options," Barnes explained. "I think our pack is going to be just fine."
Tracy Anthony is currently working on a book deal that she hopes will help alleviate her massive debts. The Pittsburgh Zoo is closing next Monday for a special guided tour for the children of Saint Mary's Home for Unpleasant Orphans.
Vegans Come in First(-World)
Bizarro Post Awards Bureau- The Guild for First-World Problems has announced the winner of 2013's First-World Problem of the Year medal. Petitions by vegans complaining about Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Latte takes home the gold with a unanimous vote from the First-World Bullshit Committee.
"Hmmm, yes. It is quite clear that our choice is incontrovertible. Quite," said Hubert Bumberpuss, Chairman of First-World Bullshit.
It's hard to argue the point. In a world gripped by gruesome civil wars, worsening environmental problems, and widespread poverty, nothing is more frivolous than vegans complaining about an overpriced sugar syrup drink not meeting their standards.
The GFWP determined the winner through extensive deliberation and research. Below is an excerpt from their completed Inventory of Frivolity:
WHEREAS vegans have such an abundance of food available that they have actively chosen to exclude a great deal of it.
WHEREAS fast-food coffee with novelty flavors represents a luxury item.
WHEREAS the vegans assert that the composition of a fast-food luxury item is an insult to vegans and lactose-intolerant individuals, despite the routine inclusion of dairy products in coffee additives.
WHEREAS customers have numerous choices in pumpkin spice beverages outside of Starbucks.
We the Committee of First-World Bullshit hereby certify the Petition to Make the Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte Vegan Friendly as the First World Problem of the Year.
The first prize includes public scorn, constant harassment through phone calls and emails, and a renewed sense of self-awareness that just might be enough to convince you that you're an irredeemable shithead.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
(FYI) if you're a mother to a teenage boy
Dear mom,
I have some information that might interest you. Last night, you made me sit down at the dining room table and go through my friends social media photos. Apparently you think this is a normal thing that other humans do with their children. Pro-tip: If I should end up in Hell for whatever reason, I fully anticipate it being an eternity of watching my mother go through my Facebook account while mumbling things like, "It must have been cold at the beach that day."
I hope you noticed that dad did very little talking and a whole lot of looking. You probably didn't see it in your quest to save your sons from the disgusting hussies and keep them reliant on mommy's creepy Oedipedal love. Be glad that you didn't. The last thing you need is something to legitimize your insecurity. Have I mentioned that writing about this on your pretentious Mommy Blog with your real name and our real photos while insulting every attractive girl in school is a shitty thing to do? Because it really is, you human wasteland.
And don't think your bitterness went unnoticed. It was kind of obvious.
"Wow--you sure took a bunch of selfies in your skimpy pj's this summer."
First? Pajama pants and a t-shirt are skimpy if you rode in on the Mayflower. It's actually fairly unusual to wear a parka to bed to "keep the sin away." They're not weird. You are.
Sidenote: Did my 8-year-old sister really need to be present for all this? I sure as shit hope you're ready to bankroll a few decades of therapy. And my room does not smell like "stinky cheese". It's cologne, it's called "Mountain Musk", it's very expensive, and it's made from elk pheromones.
Can I just reiterate, once more, how not-cool it is to publicly chastise girls on Facebook because you suspect they aren't wearing bras? I'm pretty sure men your age have gone to jail for less than that. Just saying.
Oh, and then there's this bit:
"I can't help but notice the red carpet pose, the extra-arched back, and the sultry pout. None of these positions is (SIC) one I naturally assume before sleep."
When Dad read that, he went to that hollowed-out copy of Purpose Driven Life, took out the flask inside, and took a nice long drink. Gosh, you didn't know about the flask? No surprise. He said the mouth of that flask is the only one he enjoys kissing anymore.
I also noticed in your Mommy Blog, which nobody except Russian data miners ever accessed, you seemed to imply that "the whole family" was looking at these photos in disgust. That we, as a tribunal of some kind, determined that we had no choice but to block my female friends on Facebook (except the one who likes Anime and doesn't post her picture because she's self-conscious about her acne and obesity). We both know that's bullshit. Here's the real deal:
My brother and I: Hoping for a swift and painless death via meteor strike.
My Dad: "Gosh, she really doesn't have a bra! This is just...obscene...."
My sister: Doesn't know what the fuck is even happening because she's EIGHT.
You: Painting yourself as Margaret Thatcher rather than a deeply bitter person whose every action is designed to compensate for your many failings.
It's all okay now though. I don't have friends at school anymore. The girls think I'm a creepy asshole, and the boys laugh their asses off at my misfortune.
But you know what? It's okay. I'm not that mad. Your post went viral, and now you're the laughing stock of the Internet. It's pretty hard to hide your bullshit beneath pretenses of piety when your precious blog is being dissected by millions of people. Just wait until 4chan gets their hands on this! They'll probably have your debit card info on Pastebin in roughly 30 seconds. And the blog? Forget about it. That thing's going to be a vast expanse of photographs depicting acts that are only legal in rural areas of the Netherlands.
And me? When I get to college, I'm going to do every goddamn drug I can get my hands on. I'll tattoo "G.G. ALLEN RULES" on my eyelids. I'll engage in every obscenity that I can find. And when I'm hiding needle tracks and introducing you to my polyamorous girlfriend named Spider, you'll know the true breadth of your failure. I will drink your tears. In my dreams, they taste like cherry wine.
Signed,
Your Loving Son
I have some information that might interest you. Last night, you made me sit down at the dining room table and go through my friends social media photos. Apparently you think this is a normal thing that other humans do with their children. Pro-tip: If I should end up in Hell for whatever reason, I fully anticipate it being an eternity of watching my mother go through my Facebook account while mumbling things like, "It must have been cold at the beach that day."
I hope you noticed that dad did very little talking and a whole lot of looking. You probably didn't see it in your quest to save your sons from the disgusting hussies and keep them reliant on mommy's creepy Oedipedal love. Be glad that you didn't. The last thing you need is something to legitimize your insecurity. Have I mentioned that writing about this on your pretentious Mommy Blog with your real name and our real photos while insulting every attractive girl in school is a shitty thing to do? Because it really is, you human wasteland.
And don't think your bitterness went unnoticed. It was kind of obvious.
"Wow--you sure took a bunch of selfies in your skimpy pj's this summer."
First? Pajama pants and a t-shirt are skimpy if you rode in on the Mayflower. It's actually fairly unusual to wear a parka to bed to "keep the sin away." They're not weird. You are.
Sidenote: Did my 8-year-old sister really need to be present for all this? I sure as shit hope you're ready to bankroll a few decades of therapy. And my room does not smell like "stinky cheese". It's cologne, it's called "Mountain Musk", it's very expensive, and it's made from elk pheromones.
Can I just reiterate, once more, how not-cool it is to publicly chastise girls on Facebook because you suspect they aren't wearing bras? I'm pretty sure men your age have gone to jail for less than that. Just saying.
Oh, and then there's this bit:
"I can't help but notice the red carpet pose, the extra-arched back, and the sultry pout. None of these positions is (SIC) one I naturally assume before sleep."
When Dad read that, he went to that hollowed-out copy of Purpose Driven Life, took out the flask inside, and took a nice long drink. Gosh, you didn't know about the flask? No surprise. He said the mouth of that flask is the only one he enjoys kissing anymore.
I also noticed in your Mommy Blog, which nobody except Russian data miners ever accessed, you seemed to imply that "the whole family" was looking at these photos in disgust. That we, as a tribunal of some kind, determined that we had no choice but to block my female friends on Facebook (except the one who likes Anime and doesn't post her picture because she's self-conscious about her acne and obesity). We both know that's bullshit. Here's the real deal:
My brother and I: Hoping for a swift and painless death via meteor strike.
My Dad: "Gosh, she really doesn't have a bra! This is just...obscene...."
My sister: Doesn't know what the fuck is even happening because she's EIGHT.
You: Painting yourself as Margaret Thatcher rather than a deeply bitter person whose every action is designed to compensate for your many failings.
It's all okay now though. I don't have friends at school anymore. The girls think I'm a creepy asshole, and the boys laugh their asses off at my misfortune.
But you know what? It's okay. I'm not that mad. Your post went viral, and now you're the laughing stock of the Internet. It's pretty hard to hide your bullshit beneath pretenses of piety when your precious blog is being dissected by millions of people. Just wait until 4chan gets their hands on this! They'll probably have your debit card info on Pastebin in roughly 30 seconds. And the blog? Forget about it. That thing's going to be a vast expanse of photographs depicting acts that are only legal in rural areas of the Netherlands.
And me? When I get to college, I'm going to do every goddamn drug I can get my hands on. I'll tattoo "G.G. ALLEN RULES" on my eyelids. I'll engage in every obscenity that I can find. And when I'm hiding needle tracks and introducing you to my polyamorous girlfriend named Spider, you'll know the true breadth of your failure. I will drink your tears. In my dreams, they taste like cherry wine.
Signed,
Your Loving Son
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Internet Acronyms Better Parents Than You Already Know
Bizarro Post Internet Safety Bureau- Raising a child in the digital age represents a unique challenge. Not only can your son or daughter seek out and find harmful material online, they can also attract the attention of criminals and predators. When you're observing you child's internet activity, there are some acronyms you need to know. Rest assured, teens and predators are well versed in this web-lingo!
LOL= Lesbian orgy, large
YOLO= You obviously like oral
SMH=Shooting my heroin
GAB=Groping a bear
LMIRL=Let's meet, immediately rob liquor (stores)
NSFW=Never stop firing weapons
PAL=Parents are looking
ILWTW=I like when they watch
YL420?=You like Hitler's birthday?
NIFOC=Nude, ingesting fistfuls of corn
DOC=Dudes over chicks (Bros before hoes)
CU46=(I love you) Cuz' you're 46
COBRAS=You child has declared war on GI Joe.
EIP=Eggo is Preggo (I have syrup stuffed Eggo Waffles, and will share)
CD9=Code 9, parents are laughing at my impractical acronyms
IDKmyBFFJill=I'm driving to kill my bitchy false friend Jill.
If you notice your child using these acronyms online, it's already too late to save them. Your only hope is to find an attractive and trustworthy predator, maybe one who will ask for your permission to marry their victim. You know, like Elvis.
LOL= Lesbian orgy, large
YOLO= You obviously like oral
SMH=Shooting my heroin
GAB=Groping a bear
LMIRL=Let's meet, immediately rob liquor (stores)
NSFW=Never stop firing weapons
PAL=Parents are looking
ILWTW=I like when they watch
YL420?=You like Hitler's birthday?
NIFOC=Nude, ingesting fistfuls of corn
DOC=Dudes over chicks (Bros before hoes)
CU46=(I love you) Cuz' you're 46
COBRAS=You child has declared war on GI Joe.
EIP=Eggo is Preggo (I have syrup stuffed Eggo Waffles, and will share)
CD9=Code 9, parents are laughing at my impractical acronyms
IDKmyBFFJill=I'm driving to kill my bitchy false friend Jill.
If you notice your child using these acronyms online, it's already too late to save them. Your only hope is to find an attractive and trustworthy predator, maybe one who will ask for your permission to marry their victim. You know, like Elvis.
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