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By Sean Patrick
We’ve heard the argument for decades: every school in America should be in session all year long and get rid of the traditional Summer Vacation.
That’s the worst idea we’ve had since Dippin’ Dots. Summer Break is as an American tradition as pretending to sleep through your alarm on Sunday morning to avoid going to church.
I remember in second grade, my teacher told us how intelligent the children living in Asia were because of their intense and competitive education system. They had 12 hour school days, they didn’t use calculators, they studied all weekend, and worst of all, they were in school all year long (when did they play kickball?). After hearing about all of this, the entire class was content with being inferior to these children when it came to intelligence. Then we practiced making fart noises.
Fact: When people from the Far East have their mind set on being the best at something, there is no stopping them. This was proven in the Men’s Trampoline event at the 2008 Summer Olympics. The Asians were amazing, and in the end, three of the top four childish male athletes were from China and Japan (the other was a Canadian who was actually jumping for joy after meeting a relative of Wayne Gretzky).
Ironically, the people who are so passionate about eliminating Summer Vacations are neither the students nor the teachers: they are the bitter American workers who hate their jobs and hate people who are able to enjoy the Summer even more. At this time in their lives they have either forgotten how much they cherished their Summers, or they haven’t forgotten how they were forced to spend every Summer at a fat camp in Wyoming
But if you ask the people who experience our education system five days a week, I guarantee that every one of them will passionately oppose the idea of year-round education. Think about it. You’d be taking away their only reason to participate in the process.
Teachers would no longer be able to experience the three-month drunk essential to taming the temper that they acquired during the previous school year.
Kids, particularly from the north and midwest regions of our country, would no longer be able to go outside during the only time of the year where it is tolerable to do so.
Parents would no longer… actually, parents would probably prefer this, but don’t let them ruin Summer Break like they ruined their child’s all-candy-diet idea.
FACT: American education was designed so mothers could catch up on General Hospital reruns.
Some may argue that children forget the things they’ve learned throughout the school year during Summer Break. That’s incorrect. They don’t forget over the Summer, they forget immediately after they know they don’t need to know it anymore. That useless junk is just taking up the space in the part of their brain that is reserved for Zac Efron trivia and reciting dialogue from Twilight movies, and it is removed as soon as their final exam is completed.
FACT: If we retained everything we learned about in school, Jeopardy would have an extremely hard time picking between contestants.
(potential line of eligible contestants)
Other countries pride themselves on their intellect, but America… not so much. We like being good at other things, such as pointing out how we’re superior to everyone else, tying cherry stems into a knot with our mouths, and basketball. Think about how mad you get when a U.S. Men’s Basketball team is awarded the silver medal. Our government is forced into declaring war on the country who took home the gold (congrats to the 2000 Olympic Gold Medal Team from Afghanistan). We are the stern but compassionate guardian of the world, and we don’t want other countries to experience the pain that comes with losing at something they’ve tried so hard to be the best in. That’s why we purposely throw the World Cup and Miss Universe contests.
So to all you communist scholars out there, I ask that you please don’t try and take away Summer Break. Trust me, it won’t make a difference. Students will forget the periodic table regardless if they spend two months at Pebble Beach. Our youth will not be able to remember what the pythagoreon theorem is even if the Fourth of July is spent in the classroom. And our teachers wont become better at their craft if they are forced to do it year-round. In fact, without Summer Break, the teaching profession would take a huge hit. Why would anyone want to be a teacher when there is no Summer Vacation? The job entails getting treated like dirt by other peoples children. It’s like being a tour guide at Nickelodeon Studios. You don’t want to make it into a career… you just do it until you get a chance to steal something from the Jonas Brothers dressing room and then move onto your next job.
Also, please don’t forget about what we would be doing to Alice Cooper. He depends on the residual checks he receives every June for the frequent airtime his song “School’s Out” gets. Don’t make him have to tell his kids that daddy can’t afford the indoor skydiving machine he promised them for Christmas.
By Sean Patrick
It’s one of the most exciting nights of a twelve-year-old boy’s year. One of his friends has just turned twelve and the parents of the birthday boy have decided to throw him a sleep over party. Anywhere from six to thirty pre-teen males are invited to stay the night at a house that most of them have never been to.
When I think back to sleep over parties I went to in grade school, I tend to mesh them all into one memory. This is because all pre-teen boy sleep over parties are exactly the same.
The night always starts out great. All the guys get to the house around six p.m. with their sleeping bags, and they are so excited they almost weep. The night begins with pizza, soda, and cake, followed by presents. Present time is the first minor glitch in the evening, for each boy feels a slight hint of jealousy when the amazing gifts that their friend is receiving are opened. But the jealousy impulse is ignored and the evening continues.
The party goes great for hours and everyone has a blast, but in the back of their minds every kid knows that the real party starts when the parents go to bed. Around 10:30 is when they typically decide to do this.
At the age of 11 or 12, boys typically can’t stay up past 10:30. Don’t get me wrong, there are certain evenings where they are awake until midnight or maybe even a little later. But typically 10:30 is the time where they start getting tired. NOT AT SLEEP OVERS. It’s as if before they showed up every kid did a couple hits of trucker speed, and instead of falling asleep at 10:30 each kid is able to stay up until next Thursday.
As the parents declare that they are doing to sleep, they put on a movie for the kids to watch and tell them to try and keep it down. Then they depart to their bedrooms hoping that the kids will pass out during the film. But that’s impossible for two reasons:
1) the trucker speed.
2) there’s always one kid that wont shut the fuck up during the movie.
Even if the movie is the greatest piece of cinema ever produced for a twelve-year-old crowd, there’s always one annoying prick that wants to show off his comedic talents during it. He’ll make fart noises, talk like a midget, pretend to snore… he’ll do anything to ruin this for everyone. Each kid gets mad at this little bastard, but his defense is always, “this is a sleep over, we should be doing something more fun!” So even though 99.99% of the population was intersted in watching the movie, they are now forced to keep the annoying kid entertained.
So everyone starts playing with the best present that the birthday boy got. Each kid is having a blast, but after a couple minutes of quality playing time tragedy strikes: someone breaks the toy. Unfortunately it’s typically by the kid who is struggling the most with his weight (as if he didn’t have enough problems). He vows to get a job washing dishes so he can buy a new toy for his friend, but that doesn’t stop the birthday boy from getting extremely upset on his special day. This leads to constant at any twelve-year-old boy’s pajama party.
Crying. Someone always has to cry. You are all dudes about to enter middle school, but that doesn’t stop at least one of you from shedding a few tears. This usually happens after the the best toy ever invented was destroyed by fatty right in front of the birthday boy’s eyes. Maybe it will be Mr. Birthday that cries, or maybe it will be Mr. I-Ruined-My-Friend’s-Birthday. It could even be the kid whose parents bought the toy who does the crying. Either way someone must cry, and it typically happens at this point of the evening. But not always.
At some point in the night everyone decides that there should be wrestling. This is already a terrible idea, but it gets worse when the wrestling matches are chosen. The two boys that have the biggest problem with each other are always paired up to fight. Everyone knows they slightly hate each other, so it seems obvious that they should wrestle. This is sure to be the match-up of the evening and because everyone is so eager to see what happens during it, this pair is always the first and last fight of the night.
The fight always begins playful… a little pushing, maybe a comical body slam. But at some point one of the kids gets slightly hurt. Although it’s nothing serious it changes everything. The once playful wrestling has now turned into scratching, headlocks and body jabs (luckily twelve-year-old boys aren’t masculine enough yet to feel comfortable with punching another kid in the face). Unfortunately there are no Gandhi peacekeepers in the crowd, so the fight ensues for what seems to be hours until either one kid gives up and starts crying or the mother comes downstairs.
At every slumber party a mother has to come down wearing a nightgown that they’ve had since the Nixon administration.
She’ll tell you to go to bed, but because you’re seeing your friends mom in such an unappealing outfit for the first time it’s hard to take her seriously. So the noise continues, and after a while she comes down again looking even worse.
The second time she comes down everyone pretends to go to sleep, but giggling and fake fart noises (made by the same asshole kid from earlier) makes it obvious that no one is sleeping. But on the second trip the mother brings out the big guns.
“Next time there’s noise I’m sending my husband down here!”
This is typically enough to calm kids down. Although twelve-year-olds are somewhat intimidated by their friends moms, they are terrified of their dads. Even if their dad was Mr. Rogers himself each kid would want nothing to do with him coming downstairs. 
So at this point of the night the boys start to calm down and watch television. That’s when the first person would actually fall asleep. And when one kid falls asleep, all the other kids turn into assholes. Kids gather up all the excess snack foods and start putting them on this poor souls head. After a few minutes of this the victim will lightly wake up and innocently tell “his friends” to stop. Then he’ll go back to sleep, prompting his friends to put different objects on his head such as couch cushions, napkins and paper plates. The kid wakes up again, and slightly more annoyed but still polite he will request that everyone leave him alone.
This is the point in the evening where someone wants to attempt to pull off the most popular sleep over myth of all time: putting the victims hand into a warm bucket of water to see if he’ll pee himself. They’ve already treated this kid like a captured terrorist, why not see if they can make him urinate all over his sleeping bag?
For some reason or another a bucket can never be found, so the kids decide to put the warm water into a cup and try to shove the unfortunate child’s hand into it. Although twelve year old hands are small, they’re never small enough to fit comfortably into a normal sized cup. When the kid’s hand is attempting to be shoved into such a tiny space it wakes him up… and he’s mad. “LEAVE ME ALONE! GO TO BED YOU JERKS! I HATE YOU!”
The kid screams this at a volume that rivals most tornado sirens. The neighbors neighbors neighbors neighbors even heard it. Everyone is shocked. They didn’t know they had it in him. Each kid rushes to their sleeping bag and immediately pretends to be asleep knowing that the dad is sure to come down.
Within a minute the dad arrives, and he is PISSED. “Who is making all the noise?!?” he’ll demand, but everyone is too scared to say anything. “I know you’re up!”
This is the first time a twelve year old can tell if any of his friends are going to be in the high school drama club. Each kid opens their eyes slowly and tries to act as if they were sleeping. They’ll even state that they were asleep and pretend that they didn’t what was going on. Most performances are poor, but one kid always pulls it off perfectly. This kid is going to have a bright future in acting. Nothing proves that better than the kid in my class that could always do it perfectly.
Two Time Oscar Winner Mr. Daniel Day Lewis
Because getting yelled at by a friend’s father is the scariest thing ever, no one has a problem with obliging to his request to go to bed. And although the evening is over, there is still one more thing that always happens.
When everyone wakes up in the morning, one of the kids is not there. It’s like The Blair Witch Project. No one has any idea where this dude went. After some investigating the mother reveals that the missing child wanted to go home at 4 am and had his parents come pick him up. It’s always the kid that you wouldn’t expect this from that does this. After everyone passed out, he mustered up the balls to walk through a dark house he is not familiar with, go into his friend’s parents room, both of which have yelled at him within the last two hours, wake them up and request that they call his parents so he can go home.
It blows everyones mind that this kid left. But he is quickly forgotten about once breakfast time begins, and all the kids get to see the odd cereal collection their friend has.
By Sean Patrick
In less than a month, I will be turning twenty-eight years old. And like every person in their late twenty-sevens, over the years I’ve watched a ton of My Super Sweet Sixteen episodes on MTV.
The parties these kids have for their sixteenth birthdays are insane. I remember getting a cake that had my face on it for my sixteenth birthday and thinking that my parents spent way too much money on my party. But the kids on this show… their parents spend well over $100,000 to throw them a birthday celebration. It’s outrageous!
It seems like every party has the same formula: give out great invitations, reserve a huge venue, have a glorious entrance, stage an unforgettable performance, get a famous musical entertainer to attend, and receive a new car.
This got me to thinking: what kind of party I would want this year if I had an unlimited budget? After giving it much thought, I would like to cordially invite you all to…
MY SUPER SWEET TWENTY-EIGHT!
Invitations – To have a successful super sweet twenty-eight birthday bash, it is necessary to give out awesome invitations. This is the first thing you do where you get to display how wealthy and accomplished your family is. If I had tons of money, I wouldn’t give out paper invites… I would have the invite list announced by our president during the State of the Union Address.
This is the most important speech made by the president… so it would be more than fitting that during it he would announce the guest list to the most important party of my life! To further it’s status of importance, I would want the announcement to interrupt the updates on the War in Afganistan.
Speaking of interrupting, I would purposely include the name of someone who is actually not invited to my shin-dig. After his name was called, I would have Republican Joe Wilson yell out, “YOU LIE!”
Then Obama would confess that he was lying, and that the person he just called out wasn’t actually on the invite list. This would be followed by laughter at the expense of whomever the joke was on.
Venue – Location location location! This can make or break a great party. The kids on the show always want to rent out a venue that is extremely large, expensive, and hard to get. Since I want to one up all these bastards, I would rent out a place that would be nearly impossible to land: A Prison.
What’s bigger and harder to rent out than a prison? And I’m not talking about an empty prison… I want a full functioning jail overpopulated with psychotics and delinquents. But what do we do with all these prisoners? Well, we invite them!
I realize that this is a truly selfish act on my part, for I will be putting all my guests into mortal danger… but me giving prisoners the chance to take a break from their typical day to day routine and attend a party with a bunch of defenseless twenty-somethings would make me so popular with them that I would be our generations Johnny Cash!
Entrance – This is where I’m very similar to sixteen year old girls. I totally want buff shirtless dudes carrying me in on some sort of elegant sofa chair. I can’t think of a better way to enter a room. If I could go into the DMV like that, I’d be there everyday.
Performance – This is very important if you want all of your friends to respect you. Getting up in front of all your peers and performing a dance, magic, song, etc., lets them know that you have a talent that they lack, and on your birthday you want everyone to feel inferior.
Although I feel my dancing skills are slightly better than most pudgy caucasian males my age, I really want to bring my audience to tears. That is why I would perform a skit. And for my skit I will reenact the scene from My Girl, where Vada Sultenfuss is forced to say goodbye to her dead friend Thomas Jay.
I, playing the role of Vada, will walk on stage crying. After asking the actor who is portraying Thomas Jay to climb trees with me, I will inform my audience that “his face hurts” and ask, “where are his glasses?!? He can’t see without his glasses!” This will make even the prisoners weep.
I realize that my performance piece may put my guests into a very somber mood. That is why immediately after it is when they’ll get to see my new car!
Car - At the end of every show, there is an announcement made that everyone has to go outside to see the birthday girl’s surprise gift. Even though the guests pretend not to know what the surprise outside will be, they are all aware that the rich bitchy girl is about to be unjustly rewarded for her shitty attitude with a brand new automobile.
I want this moment too. However, I’m not really much of a car guy. I drove a mini-van for the first eight years of my driving career, and to this day I miss the extra space that came with the 1993 Ford Aerostar. But since I’ve been driving a regular sized car for the last three years, I’ve grown fond of not being so high off the ground when I’m cruising around.
To get the best of both worlds, the car that would be waiting for me outside would be…
A Hearse!
Look at all that space! It’s the perfect automobile! I can drive all of my friends around in that thing and never have to worry about getting pulled over… cause what sort of cop is going to pull over a hearse? How insensitive! Plus if this screenwriting thing doesn’t work out , I’ll have another job waiting for me in my driveway!
Now I know what you loyal Super Sweet Sixteen fans are thinking: what about the musical act?
Musical Entertainer – This is the part of the show where I truly feel old. I never know who the rap artists is or who the bands are that perform at these birthday parties. That’s why for my party, I would want to make sure that people from all generations know who my performer is.
Well, guess who’s in the back of my brand new hearse! ……..
Michael Jackson!
The King of Pop, at my party! That would guarantee that my guests would “Remember The Time” they went to Sean Milnamow’s birthday bash!
If Michael were alive I’d be a legend, but having his corpse arrive at my prison party five months after his death… I’d be the most talked about person in the world! Well, maybe not the most talked about…
Obviously Michael isn’t going to be able to get up and perform any songs, but we could still open up the casket and look at him while we play the Thriller album. That should be just as good and probably even scarier than watching the Thriller video.
We would have to take special precaution with him around the prisoners though: they’ve been locked for a while, and Michael may be the closest resemblance they’ve seen to an unconscious woman in quite some time.
Thank you all for attending my Super Sweet Twenty-Eight!
By Sean Patrick
It may be the best show you’re not watching on Sunday’s at 6pm. Maybe you miss it because you have forgotten about it. Maybe you don’t catch it because it’s on ABC, one of the dullest television networks in the world, second only to the local cable channel devoted to posting updates and activities taking place at the nearest community college. Either way, the country has ignored this show more than it has ignored Hurricane Katrina victims… yet it’s still on the air year after year. The show I’m talking about is…
This show is delightful. They are celebrating their twentieth year on the air this year, and we’ve been loyal fans for two of them.
After Danny Tanner stopped hosting, I, and all the other dedicated Full House fans of my generation, turned our backs to this magnum opus. But time heels all wounds, and because of reruns and maturity, I have found myself frequently watching this show again.
America’s Funniest Home Videos, hiply referred to now as AFV, is not only a compilation of hilarious home videos, but is also a very interesting look into the American psyche. More specifically it shows what us as American’s think is funny. And when you watch enough episodes, it becomes obvious that our sense of humor is disgusting and perverse. Brace yourself fellow countrymen… below I have listed the shockingly disturbing things that American’s, including myself, think is funny.
Confusing Animals – We cannot get enough of animals not knowing what the hell is going on. As if being a dog wasn’t already confusing enough, we find it hilarious when a laser pointer is jumping around the room and Shadow is doing his best to try and catch it. “How stupid!” we think you ourselves. “Doesn’t a species that has been around for ages know what a laser pointer is?!?”
Lets label this what it really is: animal cruelty. We are taking human dependent mammals and exposing their intellectual shortcomings, all for the sake of a good laugh. It’s torture for the benefit of humor. But as recent history has proved, torture can be pretty funny.
LOL!
People Falling Down – This is my favorite part of the show. But what is shocking is how much the age range of the person doing the falling affects the humor of the clip. AFV has proven that the preferred age range for a comical fall is from 1 -6 years old and anyone over 60… anything in between loses its comedic value. And why is this? Because those ages have the most risk of not surviving their stumble. It’s sick, but it’s true.
Grandma falling down at the bowling alley gets the biggest laughs on the show, yet grandma is fragile. Grandma’s body wasn’t built to fall at the bowling alley. Grandma shouldn’t even be at the the bowling alley. But damn it’s a funny sight when her old bones stumble on the slick bowling lane.
And kids? When their tiny bodies do a flip after a sled accident, the crowd collectively pees their pants. But what are we laughing about? A child who barely avoided a lifetime of paralyzation? Exactly.
You’ll notice that with most videos of people falling, they cut away right after the person goes down. That’s because 47% of the accidents we see on the show result in death. True fact.
Weddings Gone Wrong – It’s the biggest day of your life. You plan for months, sometimes years for this occasion. Tens of thousands of dollars are spent on this special event where you vow to spend the rest of your life with someone else… and we LOVE to watch it go wrong.
The groom pukes, the bride trips, the best man faints, the cake is dropped, the ring girl picks her nose, the horse attached to the buggy goes bizerk and runs away with the bride and groom towards dead mans cliff… we eat that shit up!
American’s love it when something that means so much to someone goes terribly wrong. It’s cruel! It’s like going to the hospital and laughing at the husband whose wife just died during breast implant surgery. But what can we say? As American’s, we love it when things go awry. That’s why we give so much attention to Lindsay Lohan.
A Man’s Genitals Getting Abused – Being a man (sort of), I know first hand how painful it is to be struck in that special area. You can’t breathe, you can’t move, your heart stops, your brain bleeds… it’s the worst. But when I see a kid hit his dad in the crotch with a wiffle ball bat, I laugh so hard that I’m brought to tears.
Seeing an adult male experience the worse pain possible is a delight to all of us, male or female. To add to the humor, after the impact the host will make the obvious, “he won’t be able to have any more kids” comment. This makes us laugh harder. Why? Because it’s true! We just watched a man lose his ability to reproduce! The dreams him and his wife shared of having another child is now shattered… and that’s funny! A hit to the crotch that causes the inability for a man to generate useful sperm is funnier than any Tyler Perry movie.
Unfortunately, there is a flaw to this great eye-opening show…
It is my belief that early on in the development of AFV, producers, government officials, and clergy members started noticing a trend in what we as American’s thought was funny… and they didn’t like it. In the digital age, everyone from around the world has the ability to see what video American’s thought deserved the $100,000 season finale grand prize. And what do American’s find funniest? Torturing animals, people hurting themselves, ruined weddings, and accidental vasectomies.
This show came out in 1989, a year before Operation Desert Storm. In order to get worldwide support for this war, we had to improve our image… and what better way to do that than to fix the voting results on America’s most watched television show of the 1989/90 season? Which is why the video that wins every show is…
Babies and Kids Being Cute! – What a crock! We watch great grandpa trip and fall into a kiddie pool and we laugh til we bleed. We watch a three year old eating ice cream and getting it all over their face, and we think to ourselves, “This is boring. I hope they replay that old guy falling into the kiddie pool again!” Yet at the end of the show, that great grandpa clip is nowhere to be found… but that damn kid eating ice cream is one of the top three finalists for funniest video.
Although this is frustrating to the viewer, there is typically a mildly funny video in the top three where someone gets a little hurt or a wedding kind of gets ruined, so we’re satisfied knowing that this will win. But when the winner is announced, all of our fears come true: the worst video of the show wins the money… and it’s a kid being cute. Kids are cute all the time. They say stuff like “where’s my bubby?” and “Uncle Sean scares me,” and it’s delightful. But it’s not funny. A dog going into an epileptic seizure is funny. A groom puking on his future mother in law is funny. An old man falling off a roof is funny.
What’s not funny is the twisted sense of humor in this country, which is why week after week AFV rigs the results and assures the American reputation isn’t tarnished any more than it already is.
AFV, do the right thing. Let America’s votes count, no mater how sadistic they may be. In your theme song you state, “America, this is you!” It’s time for the unfortunate truth of that statement to be displayed in the weekly prize winners.
By Sean Patrick
Everyone has their own fantasy of what they would do if they won the lottery, and I’m no different. However, I don’t play the lottery. I don’t even think I know how to play the lottery. So when I fantasize about receiving large amounts of money, it rarely includes winning the lotto. My fantasies are much more realistic: they involve an extremely wealthy businessman that wants nothing more than to give away his money to the next guy that walks through the front doors of the Dutch Inn West Bar and Grill. Luckily, that person would be me.
With a large sum of money, there’s one thing I would want to do: blow it all. I love the stories of people who win the lotto and then go bankrupt. I recently read about a girl who won three million dollars two years ago, and since then she has spent nearly one million of it on designer clothes alone. Now she’s down to a couple thousand dollars and wishing she never won the lottery. That’s awesome! I want that kind of story, only when I’m broke I won’t say, “I wish I never got all that money.” I’ll say “I hope I get that much money again! That was rad! Now lets go look at all the cool shit I bought before I have to give it back!”
Because I’ve thought about this so much, I wanted to share some of the things I’d do if I received a ridiculous amount of cash.
If I Received $910,000,000.
I would make an unknown, terrible book into a best seller. Something like the novelization of the movie Air Bud 2 – Golden Retriever. Since I’m sure this has never been published, I would spend $200 million on getting an enormous amount of copies made. Then I would make sure that each copy was sold for $1, and I would purchase 700 million copies. The remaining $10 million I would spend on hiring Steven Spielberg to film John Grisham, Beverly Clearly, and J.K. Rowling’s faces when they hear that the novelization of the film Air Bud 2 – Golden Retriever has sold more copies than all of their books combined.
If I Received $17,900,000,000
I’d buy NASA, which is reported to be worth around 17.6 billion dollars. First order of business would be getting Lance Bass into space, so he could live his/our lifelong dream of having a member of N’Sync experience space travel. I’d also change the name of NASA to N’NASA in honor of the revolutionary band Lance helped create. With all the hate mail I’d get from space geeks, scientists, and Backstreet Boys fans, I’d throw a big honarary bon fire for Lance when he got back from his journey. The next day I’d shut down NASA… sorry… N’NASA, and spend the rest of the money on turning the headquaters into a big Showbiz Pizza, since I haven’t seen one of those places in years.
If I Received $9,000,000
I would get all the plastic surgery necessary to look like Devon Sawa, circa 1995. This is the year he was in Casper. Ladies, don’t even pretend to not know what I’m talking about.
No matter what age the women from my generation are, they still melt at the thought of this 15 year old coming down the stairs after turning from ghost to human. So I would get enough plastic surgery to look completely identical to him. Then I would go out on the town every night and flirt with women in my age range until all of them realize how creepy it is that at their age they still think a 15 year old is sexy.
Sorry if I sound bitter, I’ve just had way too many relationships destroyed because of the end of Casper.
If I Received $1,368,983
I would hire the worlds greatest private investigator to track down Carmen Sandiego ($600,000). Once found, I would hire a group of locals in whatever exotic country she has been located in to capture her ($38). Then I would have a private jet transport her to O’Hare airport ($66,000), and from there an armored car would drive her to my basement ($1,500). In the basement I will have a state of the art cage ($30,000), equipped with a bed($600), shower($200) ,toilet($225) and clothes from T.J. Maxx ($110). Then I will rehire the private investigator that found her to track down her mom and dad ($600,000). Meanwhile, while waiting for her parents to be located, I will keep Carmen fed ($800) and entertained with a high definition television ($1600) and every Gilmore Girls Complete Season DVD that is on the market ($250). Once her parents are found, I will have them flown to O’Hare on a private jet ($66,000) and have a limo transport them from the airport to my house ($160). Once they get there, I will take out my brand new video camera ($1500), and record the dramatic and emotional reunion that has been in the making since I was in grade school (priceless).
Carmen and Family!
If I Received $500,000,000
I would spend $499,000,000 on the fattiest foods you can think of: milkshakes, whoppers, pizzas, hot dogs… anything loaded with an inhumane amount of calories. Then with the remaining $1,000,000, I would ship all of this food over to the smallest famine stricken country I could find. That way I could feed the hungry, and at the same time ensure that the U.S. would no longer have the highest obesity ratio in the world! It would solve two problems at once!
The next time the department of health releases a survey of the fattest countries in the world, we won’t have to be embarrassed: Mozambique will! Furthermore, I can’t think of anything better for our countries image than an American single handedly spreading heart disease throughout a third world country.
USA!
By Sean Patrick
I realized the other day that I’ve never really had a cool nickname. Growing up I was pretty chunky, so my family called me “Bubba.” However, I’ve never had a nickname that didn’t lead to an eating disorder and terrible body image issues. Therefore, I wanted to make a list of nicknames that I would enjoy having.
Dangerous – How cool would it be to be called “Dangerous.” If someone called out “Hey Dangerous!” in a packed bar and were referring to me, it would make it a lot easier for others in the crowd to overlook my Dawson’s Creek sweatshirt, a must wear for any loyal Creeker out on the town.
Mary Poppins/Iraq – The combination of these two nicknames would be monumental. “I’m Sean, but some of my friends call me Iraq; my other friends call me Mary Poppins.” I’m sure Mary Poppins and Iraq have never come up in the same sentence, and if they have, the person that did so probably had quite the story.
Light Switch – This one would work better for when I meet the ladies cause I have a great line for it. But if I met a guy and he asked why they call me Light Switch, it be awkward to have to say, “Cause I’ll turn you on.”
Dyslexic, But I’m Not – “I’m Sean. People call me Dyslexic, But I’m Not.”
The Guy Who Saved The Day – I think I would introduce myself to everyone I saw if I could say, “My friends know me as The Guy Who Saved The Day.”
Jordan Catalano – What mid twenties boy wouldn’t want to be called Jordan Catalano?
Jon and Kate Plus Eight – It’s such a topical show right now, and since I’d love to be in US Magazine, I could call them and say “Jon and Kate Plus Eight is at the Jewel on the East Side of Elgin!” Then when they showed up I’d be wearing a super cute outfit, making them want to take my picture and put me in the magazine anyway.
(my super cute outfit)
That Cute Guy From Twilight’s Older Brother - Teenagers would love me if I introduced myself as “That Cute Guy from Twilight’s Older Brother.” I may hit a snag in the road once they realize I don’t know his name, but man would I be popular with them for a minute or two. And just like Raven Symone, I know how important it is to be loved by teens for a short period of time.
The Guy Who Knows How To Get A Pair Of That Cute Guy From Twilight’s Underwear – Please see above.
A Lot Because I’m Dying – This one would be great for getting free drinks. “I’m Sean. My friends call me A Lot Because I’m Dying. Want to buy me a drink?” The answer most often would be “yes.” The downside is that it could only be used for a short period of time before people would start to wonder why I’m not dead.
… Wait… Did You Just Fart? - It’d be a great icebreaker if I could say, “Hey, I’m Sean, AKA… Wait… Did You Just Fart?”
Pauly Shore – “I’m Sean, but people call me Pauly Shore because I don’t have a job.”
Please feel free to call me any of the above nicknames if you see me in a public setting.
By Sean Patrick
Something that I’ve noticed about Facebook lately is the abundance of quizzes that they have floating around. From “Which Office character are you?” (I’m Pam by the way) to “Which Sex and the City Couple are You?” (I’m Carrie and Big by the way), these quizzes are taking over Facebook. And guess what? I’m a fan.
That’s why I wanted to make my own quizzes. However, since I lack the proper tools to make an actual quiz,* I decided that I would just come up with subjects for Facebook quizzes as well as a sample answer for each quiz. Boo yah.
Which Natural Disaster Are You?
Tsunami, 2004
You tend to come out of nowhere! When it comes to social functions it’s rarity for you to show up… but when you do you sure make a splash when you enter a room! You love visiting third world countries and leave a lasting impression every time you do!
What Al-Qaeda Member Are You?
Raingzieb Ahmed
You’re hairy and scary! Most people don’t know who you are, but they sure want you executed! You hang out with a tough crowd, but because they are the only hate group that shares the same fashion sense as you, you find it hard to make new friends. You also take Forrest Gump-like pictures.
Which Rugrats Character Would You be Found Guilty of Sexually Molesting?
Phil and Lil
You swing both ways, partner! You’re an indecisive predator that is a sucker for two-for-one deals, and you seem to have a thing for little boys with gender identity issues!
Which O.J. Simpson Murder Victim Are You?
Ronald Goldman
You always seem to find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time! You have friends that tend to get you involved in fights that have nothing to do with you, and you unfairly share the brunt of these altercations! You also have a dad with a great mustache!
What Type of Roadkill Are You?
Possum
You’re disgusting and no one will care when you die!
Which Accidental Britney Spears Baby Are You?
Jayden James Federline (The Second One)
It’s because of you that your parents got divorced! You are a bigger mistake than Vietnam, and unlike your older brother, your mother doesn’t believe in your intelligence enough to teach you how to drive! But your dad is hilarious! (please visit www.seanssabbatical.com/my-favorite-rap-album-of-all-time It’s delightful!)
Which Serial Killer Are You?
Jeffrey Dahmer
You hunger for life, and human beings! You’re quiet and tend to keep to yourself when in public, but behind closed doors you take a bite out of all your wildest fantasies! Your favorite shampoo is Head and Shoulders, and your apartment smells like dead people. As Ludacris would put it, you’re a lady in the streets but a cannibal in the bed!
I also like the Facebook quizzes that offer one word answers without explanations. For example, I saw one the other day that asked, “When is your wedding date?” and when you were done with the quiz it simply told you what day you were going to get married. I wanted to make my own assortment of these quizzes as well.
What is the name of your future child’s kidnapper? 
Gary!
When will you get the death penalty?
Nov 17th, 2018!
How many weeks do you have before your wife discovers the sex doll in your storage shed?
4!
In your entire life, how many senior citizens will you strangle to death with your bare hands? 
5!
How many celebs will attend your funeral? 
2!
I love Facebook. I find the social networking tool to be enjoyable and hilarious. In fact, if anyone that works for Facebook ever reads this article, please consider it my resume.
*motivation and effort
By Sean Patrick
In a crowded bar, there is one thing that can cause a crowd to erupt into a unified outpouring of jubilation: a perfect song played on the jukebox. I’ve been to a packed bars where hundreds of smiling faces are singing “Sweet Caroline” in unison, and other bars where “Hey Jude” causes the whole crowd to belt out “Na Na Na’s” in every direction. It’s a beautiful scene.
On the other side of the spectrum, I’ve also been to bars where a song is played that causes the bar patrons to become pissed off. These are typically the kind of songs that I request.
When making my song choices, I always seem to find myself selecting a song that I think about 3% of the people at the bar will enjoy, and that 3% typically only includes me and the people I came with. Yet I play it anyways because, a) I kind of like the song, and b) I know how funny it will be when people outwardly complain about it and ask who the dickhead was that paid money to hear it. Since these are some of my favorite moments to have at a bar, I wanted to list my Top Five favorite songs to play on the jukebox.
#5 Who Let the Dogs Out? – Baha Men
Nothing pumps up a crowd like the tune that Rolling Stone Magazine listed as the 3rd most annoying song ever written. When the song comes on, the question isn’t “who let the dogs out?”, it’s “who is the asshole who played Who Let the Dogs Out?” It’s pretty hilarious.
I think what I love most about playing this song is that it’s original purpose was to pump people up at sporting events, yet it does the exact opposite. I think it’s because of it’s Jamaican theme. No offense to the Jamaican culture, but their songs don’t energize me to thrive in sports, or partake in any sort of physical activity. Bob Marley was a great political activist, but when I hear him sing “Get Up, Stand Up, Stand Up For Your Rights,” the melody makes me want to sip on a Pina Calada on a beach rather than partake in a political revolution. It’s probably because of the presence of the steel drum.
What I also like about the song is the use of expression, “Who Let the Dogs Out?” It seems like a harmless catchphrase when sung by The Baha Men, but when it’s asked in a real life setting it typically means bad news. If someone approaches you asking “Who let the dogs out,” and you are the one who let those dogs out, then guess what? A group of dogs are lost and/or dead, and it’s all your fault. It’s like being asked, “Who gave great grandma the keys to the monster truck?!” Uh oh.
#4 Nothing Compares to You- Sinead O-Connor
What a lovely ballad. This song is best used in bars heavily populated with men, particularly lonely men who find themselves to be this way because of the way they mistreated women during their lifetime. They go to the bar to escape their women troubles, yet my song choice quickly reminds them of the bald ex-girlfriend that got away.
At a pizza parlor in college, my friend and I put five dollars into a jukebox and requested the song twelve times in a row. The jukebox was unplugged after 2 1/2 straight times of the song being played. It was the best five dollars I spent throughout my entire college career.
#3 Tears in Heaven – Eric Clapton
Holy buzz kill. This is one of the saddest songs I’ve ever heard, and should only be played at funerals. In fact, it might even be too sad for funerals. Needless to say, playing it in a crowded bar depresses everyone in the room, possibly because most bar patrons haven’t heard it since they tragically lost their step-brother.
Me and another friend of mine once had a competition to see who could play the saddest song on a jukebox at a bar in Iowa. I don’t recall what my pick was, but I do remember that this song was hers. While being played, the bartender actually said out loud, “This song is sad,” making my friend the clear winner of the contest.
#2 Any Song by Annie Lennox
I don’t think I need to explain.
#1 Your Body is a Wonderland – John Mayer
I don’t know what it is about this song, but if I’m in a public setting, I need to hear it. If I’m in a public setting surrounded by sketchy looking older dudes that possibly could and would murder me, I really need to hear it.
The scarier my surroundings are, the more I find myself needing to hear this love ballad. If I’m sitting next to a man wearing a leather vest and no shirt underneath, I need to hear the expression “Bubble Gum Tongue.” If the guy across from me has a face tattoo, I want nothing more than for us to share John Mayer’s request to “Discover me Discovering you.” If a man whips out a gun at the bar, I won’t run away… I’ll run to the jukebox so we can listen to the John-man confess, “I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase.” I’ve spent more money on playing this song on jukeboxes than I have put into my 401K.
Playing any of these songs on a jukebox is a great icebreaker. For example, when someone demands to know who the homophile is who played Annie Lennox on the jukebox, you can say, “I’m the homophile! What’s your name?”
By Sean Patrick
When it comes to music, I’m pretty flexible. I’ll give anything a listen, and I consider myself to be the opposite of a musical snob. This is because I know that my musical taste is sporadic and occasionally homoerotic: I have a compilation CD that has both rock classics from The Beatles catalogue as well as songs from both Sister Act films on it, and if I put all of my music on an Ipod and hit shuffle, it is possible that “Stairway to Heaven” could be followed by John Stamos’ “Forever.”
It is obvious that my musical taste is somewhat squewed, which might explain my choice in best rap album of the decade. When it comes to rap, I’m a fan, but not a huge fan. I like the genre, but I spend more time listening to other music. But there is a rap album that struck my attention for it’s brilliance, humor and courage . This album is none other than Kevin Federline’s debut musical endeavor, Playing With Fire.
Before I go into the entertainment value of this masterpiece, let me preface with a little history between me and this album. When I was working as a financial aid advisor, everyone had pictures pinned up on the walls of their cubicles. After almost eight months of working at the company, I still had no pictures up in my cube. One day I was bothered by this, so I decided that I would rip a picture out of the US magazine I had at my desk and pin it to my wall. When I opened the magazine, the first picture I saw was of Kevin Federline.
One of the middle aged guys who I shared a cubicle with at the time was somewhat of a Britney fan. He hated K-fed, and since he was kind of a prick, I decided that putting this picture on my wall would not only decorate it, but it would also piss him off, thus killing two birds with one stone. So I ripped out the picture of him and hung it on my wall. Quickly afterwards I got the reputation of being the possibly gay guy who had a picture of Kevin Federline hung up in his cubicle.
Because this picture was on my wall, someone came up to me on a Tuesday afternoon and asked if I heard that K-Fed was in town for a concert. Since I was more of a mock fan at the time I had no idea of this, and when I looked online to see if tickets were available, I discovered that not only were they still available, but they were giving them away for free! All I had to do was pay a three dollar service fee per ticket, and I would be on my way to seeing this countries greatest white rapper. Discovering this was the closest feeling to winning the lottery that I’ve ever had, and I immediatly purchased three tickets for me and my friends Adam and Lindsay.
The timing of the concert was perfect. Kevin and Ms. Spears had just announced their separation two days earlier, and this was going to be his first concert appearance since the shocking news broke… and by shocking I mean completely expected for years.
The concert itself was worth every three dollar. Before singing his song “Dance With a Pimp,” K-Fed asked the ladies in the crowd if they heard that he was now single. After posing the question, he asked another one: “Which one of you ladies would like to dance with a pimp?” The women in the crowd went into a quiet, non-existent frenzy when he offered this service, and the proposal itself showed that the heart broken Federline was a posterboy for strength.
After the show, reporters were outside and asked the three of us what we thought of the concert. People were anticipating that because of the divorce, K-Fed’s career was now over, so Lindsay responded to the reporter by saying, “He’s back! He’s better than ever! Totally on top of his game! Amazing show!” The reporter looked surprised and said, “Really?” I then spoke up and inquired, “How do you say comeback in Brazilian? PopoZão!” Then Adam took hold of the microphone after me and said, “I will always pay three dollars to see a train wreck!” This left the reporter shocked and speechless.
A month later it’s Christmas time, and I found myself participating in a secret Santa gift exchange at my work. The rule was that you were supposed to write down three things that you would like to receive as a gift, and they all had to be under $20, and whoever got your list had to pick between the three things you put down. I thought to myself, “what are three things that I want, yet may never buy for myself that are under $20?” Only one thing came to mind: Kevin Federline’s album. I didn’t want to buy the thing because I wanted to continue to have at least a little bit of respect for myself, but if someone else bought it for me then my status as a respectable human being would still be intact. At least kind of.
Instead of listing three things on the grab bag list, I listed six, four of which were the Kevin Federline album. I wanted to make it very clear to my secret Santa that this is the gift I wanted the most, and his only other options were to buy me the Teen Wolf DVD or a $20 present for my girlfriend since I didn’t know what to get her for Christmas. Needless to say, along with a $10 gift certificate to Walgreens for my girlfriend, I received Kevin Federline’s smash debut record, which had ripped up the charts by debuting at #151 and selling 6500 copies in its opening week. To this day it has sold 16,000 copies, and like 15,999 other people, I have come to realize how amazing this album really is.
The album opens up with a bunch a little kid voices, all talking over each other. Finally, all in unison, the kids ask, “Grandpa, can you tell us a story about when you were young?” K-Fed laughs and says, “Gather round children.” Some may think it’s bold to predict that he will have that many grandkids when he gets older, but considering the staggering rate that this man is reproducing, 65% of the worlds population may have the last name of Federline before the year 2030.
After the kids inquire about K-Feds younger years, various real life newscasts involving Federline and Spears are heard, with reporters announcing that “According to sources, Federline’s marriage to pop superstar Britney Spears has reached it’s last straw” and “Once again, Federline was spotted partying at various Hollywood hot spots.” The newscasts go silent after these reports, and only sound effects are heard. These sound effects suggest that K-Fed smashes a bottle of liquor against a wall, gets up, and takes two Samurai swords out of their cases as if he were going into battle. This leads into his first song.
Although I believe this is the best opening to an album since Sgt. Peppers, I am aware that there’s a dangerous problem here: his grandkids are still around. With them in the room, he carelessly brakes a glass and arms himself with two Japanese war weapons. Yet the kids don’t scream or say a word when this happens, suggesting one of two things: either this is common behavior by drunken grandpa K-Fed and the spectacle is no longer frightening to even children, or he killed all of them. It may seem like a far fetched theory, but keep in mind, grandpa has swords and a drinking problem. This opening sequence is brilliant in it’s vagueness, and one may say that in it, Kevin himself is predicting that his grandfathering skills are going to be shit. However, Kevin shows in this album that his prediction abilities aren’t too great.
In his song “Lose Control,” Federline states, “…I married a superstar, you’ll never come between us no matter who you are.” In other songs he makes declarations such as “I’m fucking lady luck” and “I married snow money, she’ll rock n’ roll for me.” First off, it’s great how even though he went from being a struggling back up dancer to marrying a woman who is worth over $110 million dollars, he refers to her as lady luck. I love his confidence. Secondly, the album came out on October 31, 2006. Britney filed for divorce on November 7th, 2006, making “never come between us no matter who you are” wildly inaccurate. His prediction couldn’t even last more than a week after his album dropped, making him appear to be the anti-Nostradamus. Although I will say, I’m impressed with his physic abilities when in his ninth track, “A League of My Own” (possibly titled after the wildly popular girls baseball movie),” he states, “Budge me? I think not, I’m too pudgy.” At the time he wrote this lyric he looked like this: 
Now he looks like this:
Chloe the phone psychic couldn’t have made a better prediciton.
Speaking of predictions, track 8, “Crazy,” has Britney herself singing the chorus. Interestingly enough, the chorus goes, “And they say, I’m crazy, for loving you, for feeling you. And maybe, I’m a little crazy…”
She may actually be the second coming of Nostradamus.
Kevin Federline also displays his knack for contradicting himself, specifically in the songs “A League of My Own” and “Privilege.” In “A League of My Own,” Mr. Spears states, “Im not saying I’m the best kid, but I’m better then the rest is…” Hmm. I think that might actually be the Webster’s definition of the word “best.” Later on in that song he pleads that, “I’m not here to brag,” referring to the fact that he repeatedly mentions his newfound wealth throughout the song and the entire album. In the same breath, he states “My Ferrari costs more than your little S-Class.” He also raps that “one earring costs more than your budget,” “I’m in a whole other tax bracket,” and “it dont matter what you blow, you cant match it,” referring to the average citizens amount of spending money in comparison to his. Again, I’m not sure if he is aware of the definition of the word that he claims to be innocent of partaking in (in this case the word is”brag”), but it appears that he is doing just that. It’s adorable.
In “Privilege,” he states, “I got tired of drugs, so I switched to rap!” The chorus immediately follows this brave statement of sobriety, only the problem is that the chorus goes, “Lets get something to smoke…” I don’t think Federline is referring to buying a pack of Virginia Slims, especially since he makes over twenty marijuana references in his album, six in this song alone. It can be assumed that the once drug free K-Fed is now back on the wagon one lyric later, making his contradicting song style a frightening look into the harrowing life of a chronic weed smoker. Not since The Rolling Stones sang “Sister Morphine” has an artist so willingly put himself out there to advocate the struggles of a drug addict, making Federline a courageous performer.
One of my favorite parts of the album is how he keeps referring to his friend JR as a dog lipped bastard. I typically don’t agree with people when they say other human beings resemble animals, but after looking up a picture of JR, I have to agree with K-Fed.
JR
The thing I like most about Federline is that he is completely hilarious, which he proves over and over again in his lyrics. Such gems as “I’m handin’ out ass kickins’ like diplomas,” “I’m so high, I could probably drop a shit and fly,” “It’s going down like a fresh pair of panties,” and “I’m coming out like Janet’s titty at the Super Bowl,” make me laugh every time I hear them. If his musical career doesn’t pan out (it didn’t), he should be hired as a writer on the Jay Leno Show.
There are plenty of other things I love about this album, so much that I might need another website in order to list them all. I read recently that K-Fed might be working on a new album with the help of Bone Thugs-n-Harmony. If that is true, on the release date you will “see me at the cross roads” of Locust Drive and Main St in Dundee, Il, which is where the nearest Best Buy is located.
By Sean Patrick
It’s a theory I’ve been discussing for years. It began one night in college when I was drinking and watching The Karate Kid. I was sitting there enjoying this nostalgic film, when like an abusive uncle it hit me: the relationship between Mr. Miyagi and Daniel is quite sketchy. Here we have an elderly veteran devoting all of his time to the adorable kid from New Jersey, the pedophile victim capital of the world.* I watched the Miyagi/Daniel scenes from the film again this morning to see if I noticed anything suspicious, and I stumbled upon some red flags that suggest Miyagi’s motives may not have just been teaching this kid karate.
When Daniel first arrives at his apartment complex in California, he is greeted by the hunky Freddy Fernandez. Within the first couple of minutes of meeting Daniel, Freddy expresses his interest in learning karate. The superintendent at his building is Asian, and it’s a fact that all Asian’s know karate.* However, Freddy has never asked Miyagi for lessons. Why? Because kids around the neighborhood know not to go near creepy old man Miyagi. Their parents have warned them about this pervert, but since Daniel’s friendship with Freddy is short lived he is never properly cautioned about the sex offender who dwells downstairs. Even in the Halloween scene where Miyagi shows off his three pumpkins (bait), not one child comes to the door to trick-or-treat. This is most likely because they have been instructed not to to Miyagi’s door by their parents. As a kid, there were houses I was warned to not go trick-or-treating at, and I guarantee it wasn’t because my parents thought I might be disturbing the residents martial arts training.
Another thing that struck me as odd is what Miyagi does to the bullies that are harrassing Daniel. Because a group of Kobra Kai’s have been battering Daniel’s pretty face, he does what any responsible adult would do in that situation: he kicks their ass! An elderly man beats up five eighteen year olds at once. Two things seem odd about that: 1) An adult just beat up kids. Even in the eighties that was illegal. Yet instead of scaring the kids off by yelling at them or threatening to call the police, Miyagi jumps a fence and beats the life out of five teenages who just left a costume party. 2) You know what kind elderly man would have the strength to beat up five young karate experts? A horny one. Horny people have more strength than Superman,* and when Miyagi saw Daniel getting his ass pounded, he had the strength of twelve thousand elephants. Speaking of the debacle that was Daniel’s evening at the Halloween dance…
…it’s almost like Miyagi schemed up the whole scenario. Daniel didn’t want to go to the costume dance because he knew he’d get his ass kicked. So what does Miyagi do? He makes him a costume and demands that he go. I’m sure Miyagi knew his share of Kamikaze pilots back in his war days, and he was aware of how those missions ended… yet he sent Daniel to the wolves to get roughed up, making it necessary for Miyagi to come and save the day. This put Daniel in his debt, and he was hoping that debt would be paid off at his love palace…
Miyagi has a second home outside of the apartment complex. It’s a rickety secluded house that, along with the fences, needs to be painted, has old cars that need to be waxed, and has floors that need to be sanded. Sounds like he hasn’t spent too much time there lately. But when naive sexy boy Daniel comes to town, the brothel is open for business. Even more frightening is Miyagi’s one rule of the house: “I say, you do. No question.” Yikes.
And the gifts he gives this kid? Ridiculous. He fixes his bike, making it better than new. A typical predator would consider a new bike enough to allure a child, but Miyagi takes it up a notch; he gives him a karate robe that his deceased wife made for him, a classic car, and a Bonsai tree. Not only is he bestowing to him a sentimental gift his dead wife gave him decades earlier, but he’s also giving him rare shrubs and automobiles. In retrospect, within the first few months of their relationship, Miyagi gave a sixteen year old a new bike, a car, a karate outfit, and a fucking Bonsai tree! He throws in a pack of smokes and a Hustler and Daniel has everything a sixteen year old boy could ever want. But where’s the pay off? Why didn’t Miyagi ever try to score with this Italian dream boat? Well he did, but unfortunately he blew it…
After a rough date with Allie, Daniel comes over to Miyagi’s to blow off some steam. When he arrives, Miyagi is drunk (by the way Pat Morita plays one of the best drunks in the history of film). Seeing his chance, Miyagi pours the vulnerable Daniel a drink. Not used to the taste of liquor, Daniel coughs and struggles to get the drink down, all to the delight of his bartender. Miyagi laughs at him, pours him another round, and pleads for him to take another drink. Then, in attempt to impress and arouse the teenager, he demonstrates his old Army drills while wearing his military uniform. Fed up with all the foreplay, Miyagi goes for the score by popping a squat on his bed. Unfortunately he overestimated how much liquor he could handle, and when the karate master sits down, he falls asleep. Sixty years of karate training couldn’t prepare him for the effects of cheap whiskey, and his big night turns into his biggest failure.
These are not the only things that put in question Mr. Miyagi’s motives. If you watch the movie, you’ll notice that Miyagi rarely looks in Mrs. Larousso’s eyes (most likely out of guilt), he frequently wears flamboyant Hawaiian shirts, and he always makes sure that Daniel gets wet when they are around a body of water. It’s like something out of a child molesters playbook.
Now obviously I’m not saying that Pat Morita himself was a pedophile. In fact, I think the picture below proves otherwise…
… and it’s possible that the character Mr. Miyagi wasn’t a pedophile either. Regardless, it’s worth nothing that Miyagi’s relationship with the sixteen year old Daniel was very inappropriate.
You don’t see movies like The Karate Kid anymore. Because of internet predators, film executives are no longer encouraged to make movies about latchkey kids who exclusively hang out with old men. It’s just another thing that Chris Hansen has ruined for all of us.
*This statistic is completely assumed.
