Chepooka

Modern parenting, Hollywood style

It’s suppose it’s harder for me to understand the fuss because I’m not a parent in today’s modern age. My reference of understanding comes from my experience having been a kid and having parents. Only those were the days of wooden paddles hanging in the principal’s office, people.

I remember my dad losing his cool. Like when I behaved, unmercilessly and unrelentingly, like a horrendously disrespectful and defiant little twat. And he wasn’t even battling Kim Basinger in a gruesome custody battle for me or anything. I’m glad he cared enough to lose his shit and set me straight. Thanks dad.

It’s not justifiable, but it’s not like he lit her hair on fire either.

This guy nails it:

Let’s face it, he didn’t hijack a plane and he is no Imus. No one should talk to their kids like that, but guess what, kids do the darndest things. 11 is the new 14, and middle school agers are (sometimes) manipulative and selfish brats. Had I known a judge would stop me from seeing my parents, I would have recorded everything they said and I could have grown up in a foster home. Check please.

Pay special attention to the very last few seconds (approx 12 seconds from the end) when he’s talking about flying out there to “straighten her ass out”—he breaks character for a millisecond to make sure she hears the date clearly. L.O.L.