Oops, I Shamed Again

Dear friends, today you will have the pleasure of Briton, aka Punk Rock Papa, and his beautiful words of wisdom. His prose will touch your soul and lift your spirits. Read with care and soak up every profound word of love and light. The Dalai Lama should bow to the spirit of this devoted father. Enjoy… -Gretchen

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“We can look at the start of the end of the world”

Matchbox Twenty, How Far We’ve Come

Sorry in advance. What I am about to say might not be the most popular opinion in the world. Luckily, I am holding the microphone and you will listen to every goddamn word I have to say.

We are creating a society where people are too afraid to speak. What if their words were to accidentally shame someone?

What does that do to comedy?

That’s right, all I care about is whether my funny will get me in trouble. I will let you in on a little secret. Between being a kick ass father and an awesome husband, I happen to be quite the jokester. Each time something gets shaming added to it I feel like it becomes a no-no for me to say in public. I mean, I don’t want to be the dick that accidentally child-shames in public because I laugh at a kid falling over. Wait, that came out bad! I don’t laugh when kids fall down! I don’t think in my head it is karma for a tantrum. Fuck. I am child-shaming, aren’t I?

People have gone so far off the deep-end about this that no one can laugh anymore. Why do we get upset over everything? I mean, there is dad-shaming, child-shaming, Walmart people-shaming, dog-shaming, and, due to word count constraints, I had to cut the four hundred and fifty other types of shaming I listed. I am currently being stinky-foot shamed and I demand attention for it. It is not funny or fair for my kid to smell my foot and scrunch his face while trying to waft my foot scent away.

Let’s all sit in a circle. Indian-style. Fuck, I didn’t say Indian style! I said Criss-Cross Applesauce okay. CRISS-CROSS APPLESAUCE. Now, repeat after me;

Sticks and stones may break my bones 

But words will never hurt me

Now, before posting your hateful comment below, make sure to repeat that saying to yourself.

You know what happens when we stop laughing stuff off and get our pitchforks out for every perceived slight? We look like dicks. Not to say there is anything wrong with looking like a dick! Is dick-shaming a thing? Damnit! Don’t be a dick, unless that is your life dream. There is nothing wrong with being a dick if you want to be a dick. Dick.

Gretchen, is there a record book? Because I said Dick enough up there to hold some sort of record. 

Let us all compose ourselves for a moment! Breathe in, breathe out. Okay. I would like to formally apologize to anyone I have offended. I am seeking sensitivity training. I was under a lot of personal duress. I will also be going to rehab to reassess my life.

If you don’t like something I have a solution! Look the fuck away. The world is engulfed in flames half the time and people are busy on Facebook fighting over a picture of a crying child and whether or not it is child-shaming. That’s what a portion of the population is in arms over. Not poverty. Not war. Not human trafficking. A picture of a kid crying and whether it is mean to the kid to post it on Facebook. Scroll on white knights, scroll on.

There are plenty of worthy causes out there. Stop making it so I can’t make funny Facebook statuses.

On a deeper and partially unrelated level, why is everyone so fucking upset nowadays? Does anyone realize that by making everything taboo you add a level of empowerment to it? Yes, person forcing everything to be banned, in a sense you are empowering and raising the stigma. I said it! To be honest, things that are not partially true don’t upset me. You can tell me I have a pair of tits and I will laugh because I don’t have tits! Not to say there is anything wrong with boobs. I’m not boob-shaming. I really love to stare at boobs. Fuck. Consensual boob-staring. I am going to stop talking now.

We have backed the world into a corner, where off-hand comments that should be laughed at are now awkwardly followed up with explanations and apologies.

Is this really the direction we should continue in?

Silence is golden, I know this! I love when my three kids are asleep and the house is silent, except the furious tapping of fingers to keys. Come to think of it, it is usually me furiously deleting something. I can’t say how many sections of this piece I have deleted for fear of overstepping being offensive.

*Fun side story! I sent a portion of this post to a friend because I wanted to see if it was a good post or if I should give up on writing. Anyways, she told me it was good, but one part should be taken out. When pressed on the subject, she told me because it would upset someone! So, of course, the section where I get super inappropriate is hanging in the trash! Not that hanging in the trash is bad. I am not trash dweller-shaming! To each their own Oscar!

We are getting to the point where people must hold their breaths. Not because of a need for gum or Tic Tacs mind you, but because upsetting people is THAT easy to do these days. Everyone sits around faces either red from holding it in or red from huffing and puffing and blowing houses of satire down. Not that there is anything wrong with biting your tongue. Or to say that those who are upset aren’t validated. Why does everyone have a torch and pitchfork? Fuck.

Indian Criss-Cross applesaucestyle and repeat after me folks;

Sticks and stones may break my bones 

But words will never hurt me.

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