Dear Idiot Parents

You know what average intelligence means?

It means that about half the population is above normal in intelligence - and about half are just plain booger eating morons.

As near as I can tell without instrumentation, stupidity is an attractor. In any crowd, if one person does something stupid it is inevitable that the other mouth breathers in the group will follow suit. This is how you get cattle into a slaughterhouse, e.g. you only have to get the first one to walk in the door - all the rest will follow just to see what the first one is doing.

Stupidity is also logarithmically additive. In other words, two stupid people are three times as stupid as just one idiot alone. Three stupid people are nine times more likely to spontaneously implode into a black hole of clueless dumbass, than just one pointy haired dipshit by himself. And so on.

Stupid people shouldn't breed, but they do. Oh yes, they do. Which means there are more of them every day. They've got books, with lots of pictures to be sure, but books nonetheless. You've seen them: Parenting for the Compete Idiot - frankly, I think that if you've got publish a book to tell idiots how to raise kids, well there are too many idiots having kids. That's what I'm saying here.

What brings me to this startling scientific observational rant you ask?

The first day of school, what else?

The first day of the new school year should be a moment of joy, a moment of peace and tranquility, with singing birds and bright sunny skies. That's how God intended it. Leave to it to the morons to turn the first day of school into a teeth grinding exercise in fist-of-death clenching.

Attention idiot parents:

1) Your kid is not special. He may be special to you, but the rest of us regard him as nothing more than just another pimply faced, baggy pants wearing iPod transport system with a goofy haircut. Hug him before you leave the house; the drop-off line is not a place for teary-eyed long goodbyes. Remember, in much less than a decade you'll be happy to send him off to an out of state college, and you won't even care what subject he majors in - just as long as he's out of the house and you can convert his room into that astral projection and herbal healing den you've always wanted.

2) There are four hundred other people behind you in the drop-off line. All of them are waiting on you. When you get to the front of the line, open the door, push little Johnny HI-tops in the small of the back, close the door, drive away. Stopping is not actually necessary. Kids are flexible and they heal fast and it's important that they lean the "tuck and roll" technique early in life. Best to learn by doing, experience is the best teacher.

3) Pack the school supplies before you leave home. Do not, under any circumstances, wait until you are in the front of the drop-off line to put four reams of paper, two packs of pencils, highlighters, paperclips, calculator, IED, a sandwich, an apple, two bags of chips, a soda, spare iPod batteries, condoms, pistol, crack pipe, and a partridge in a pear tree into the dammed backpack. Remember, it's a tactical egress, tuck around the backpack, jump feet together knees bent, and roll.

4) I know, I know - it's little Sally Hotpants' first day in sixth grade, and you're just so dammed proud to drop her off in her new junior-miss wonder training bra and low riders with her bony little ass-crack whistling in the breeze. But for the love of all that is holy, could you please wait until you're out of the school loading zone before dialing your cell phone to tell grandma all about it? There are kids and cars filled with other clueless morons just like you, milling about in chaotic confusion and the truth of the matter is that you're an idiot under the best of circumstances, leave the phone on the seat and use what little brain power and concentration you have to clear the scene.

5) Those three great big signs in front of the loading zone? Yeah, those don't say, "Hey, if you need to go inside because you were too dammed stupid to come to the orientation meeting we had the other night, park here." What they actually say is, "NO PARKING. Handicapped Bus Drop Off Zone." See, when the special needs buses pull up at 7:00AM, and there are three of them, they need to be able to park along the special curb so that they can unload the kids in wheelchairs. When you park there, even "just for a minute" (which in idiot time is about a half an hour) you leave the buses no place to unload. Since they can't pull over to the curb, they have to stop in the middle of the drop-off zone, which blocks all the traffic behind them for the fifteen or twenty minutes it takes to find your dumb ass so you can move your car. Unless you want me to put you into a wheel chair eating soup through a straw for the rest of your life, don't park there. No, really, I'm not joking.

6) You there, in the back of the drop-off line. In the blue Honda Pilot. Yes, you, the mousy pinched face brunette. I understand, you're in a hurry, you're late for work, you're special, you're important. Screw you, so am I. Stay in line. The next time you pull out of formation and drive up the shoulder to the front and drop your kid off on the left side of the loading zone so she has to walk through two streams of moving cars to get to the curb, I will make you permanently late for work. Understand? If your kid survives to adulthood, it'll be no thanks to you, you stupid, self absorbed, self centered cow. And that goes for the rest of you bovinated cud chewers, just because Mouse Face did something stupid, doesn't mean that you should follow her. She's not showing initiative or leadership here, she being a selfish asshole, and so are you if you follow her. Remember the example above, cows, slaughterhouse.

Seriously, parents, let's try to look a little more educated, wise, and experienced than the pre-teens we're dropping off, shall we? Kids are supposed to be clueless, you on the other hand are supposed have just a bit more sense. You see because even though stupidity is often hereditary, it's not genetic, it's environmental. Monkey see, monkey do. And if you don't want your kids to turn out like little clueless baboons, well then you need to get a clue yourself.

Seriously, shape the hell up - or I'm going to start cracking heads.