A rantage brought to you by TehGoatLaydeh and TehGoatLord

First God, then Parents?

When a baby is born, what’s the first thought that strikes the parents? The name? Hah, if that was true, no one would have been named as “Gaylord” or even “Focker”- Check FaceBook for confirmation. After-all, who believes a 17-year-old class prefect these days anyway?
If only they would have thought THAT instead of what to make of the baby when he or she is old enough. Sigh.

This is how the process works for babies nowadays and this, my friend, is a personal example -

God : I am going to add some mud and, maybe some more. So what’s up, Angel?
Angel : How do you think this lass might turn out if thrown on the land of fat and ugly people?
God : I think she will turn out to be fat and ugly.
*Throws the creation in the corner*

Then, after 17 years, the “baby” cries. God, you forgot to add some more mud vertically – A new short Bangladeshi was born. But then again, nothing new, really.

So yeah, as the process continues, next in the line is the…wait for it…PARENTS! Gosh, I’m replacing “Legendary” with “Parents”.
Proceeding -

Child at the age of 1- 6:

Child: Mommy I gave beeeeeeeg pooopie today!
Mother : Awwwww. Mommy clean beeg poopie

OUR PARENTS TEACH US THE WRONG SHIT. IT’S NOT US, YOU LOW SELF-ESTEEMED BASTARDS.

Child at the age 6-12

Child: I want to be an actor or a singer when I grow up.
Mother: You want to be Robert Pattinson and sound like Rebecca Black or Justin Beiber? Awww, sure love.

Yes mother, thanks for the motivation. Now, I can go up to the stage and enjoy free tomatoes. Yay

Child at the age 13-17

Child: I still want to be a singer, mother.
Mother: Are you crazy? Look at Justin Beiber and Rebecca Black. They sound like someone has choked them with condoms and lots of viagra.
Child: But you had no problem with it few years back! I HATE MY LIFE! (A common line used by casual teenagers. Even if they can’t squeeze toothpaste out – HOW I HATE MY LIFE FOR THIS TOOTHPASTE! WHY MEEE?)
Mother: When you are done getting over yourself, make use of yourself and pass that salt. Now.

Also, don’t have conversations with mothers in the kitchen – A place where once Eve was created and the lives of all women were destroyed.

If your father/mother isn’t talking to you, just go to them and start talking about what degrees you want to get. Ta-daa! Job well done. Degrees are what they think of. As if talking about degrees would help you get laid.

Male: We’re going to make some sweet lovin’ and then produce another Doctor or an Engineer because the world needs another one.

OR,

Female: I want to make my daughter or son work for the country because I am a patriotic son-of-a-bitch. Take off your clothes now. Also, throw those condoms out the window- WE ARE HAVING A BABY, COUNTRY!!

Now, as I am finally getting a hold of what I really want to be, my character is questioned by my OWN BLOOD parents -

Me: I am doing pretty good with law. May be this is what’s right for me…what do you guys think?
Parents: Love, lying isn’t a profession. Although, I must say it is a gift.

The second line was just to console my feelings and not to make me feel low. Oh how I am feeling so much better now. Where is that bazooka again…? 

The sad part is, it doesn’t end just there -

Me: What do you guys mean?
Parents: Love, do you know what your brother wants to be? AN ASTRONAUT! He will go to the moon and lay eggs there because, oh my goodness, the moon is soo beeeg! And look at you. You’ll only end up visiting hell if you become a Lawyer…my child.

Just observe the use of words. Parents are the best. They know when to be what (Shape Shifters?) – First they become wanna-be good parents with the “love” word, then a freaking Pope with “my child”.

Why do you think there are terrorists or mass murderers? Not because of greed, insanity or their religion or even nationality or discrimination. No, I am not talking about the Arabs,  Muslims or even Tamils. But, it’s our parents who make us killers!
So now you know who to blame for the stolen food and of course, the recession.
Adios rebellious fuckers!
*Takes her cape and flies off to Krypton*

Editor’s Note: Since my girlfriend is off to Krypton, I’ll just go back to the farm and graze. Pretty cool how I can only use Editor’s Notes though.

Rantages also published with this one:

Sage Advice: 2nd Issue by PangashKhan
Comicage 4: Batman in Dhaka by TehPeanutCruncher
Rantage 103: Life of a Child by TehGoatLaydeh and TehGoatLord 
Rantage 104: Girls Please Stop by TehGoatLord and TehAlbinoBlackSheep