My Little Bronies

My Little Bronies

This morning, my brother alerted me to this story in the Wall Street Journal, about a burgeoning subculture of older people (read: teens and up) who are enthusiastic about the new version of the “My Little Pony” cartoon.

Older male people.

As a free thinking liberal who supports gay marriage, female hockey players and David Bowie, I have no problem with this on any kind of gender-stereotyping level. Besides, there’s a good chance that my previous sentence, in which I lump these male “Pony” enthusiasts in with homosexuals, is potentially offensive to the aforementioned “bronies.” (Yes, bronies. That’s what they call themselves. I know, right?)

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The Inappropriate Collection! – Things I Shouldn’t Show My Son, #2

The Inappropriate Collection! – Things I Shouldn’t Show My Son, #2

Last week, the debut clip of this series was from Road House. It was less than 10 seconds of absurdity and violence from one of the most absurd (elite bouncers!) and violent (jugular rips!) movies of the 80s. This week, in honor of Halloween, I’m taking a different tack.

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Hey Parents, Why So Serious?

Hey Parents, Why So Serious?

When did parenting get so serious?

Every where you look these days, parents are up in arms about the ways other people raise their kids. Don’t Cry It Out! Don’t spank! No TV! No fast food! No smoking!

And yet, despite all these precautions, the ultimate result – the person your kid ends up being, regardless of how strictly or loosely he is raised – is still a mystery. So why can’t we all lighten up a bit?

Why so serious?

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The Business of Being Indoctrinated

The Business of Being Indoctrinated

As part of training for eventual “Father of the Year” status and in preparation for the storming of my wife’s inner thighs, I have begun watching a few DVDs about the intricacies of childbirth.

Not all of the DVDs are tutorials, though the very first one we watched was, and featured an obnoxious woman who fancied herself a comedienne. With every nugget of information she parceled out about the shape of the inside of my wife’s vagina, she performed an excruciating little skit that was – and I don’t speak from experience – more painful than labor. I don’t want to speak for my wife, but can we please keep any and all attempts at laughter away from her genitals?

Last night we took a breather from Gilda Radner’s Guide to Reproduction and moved on to The Business of Being Born, a documentary exploring the world of midwifery and why if you deliver your baby in the hospital you’re a slave to the system and the reason for global warming.

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