‘Making Up For The Time When The Internet Didn't Exist’, by Sam Riley

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Public domain image via Pixabay.

I’m 16, live with my parents, how do I hide it from them I bought a dog… ?!?

Hello everybody. Thank you Yahoo Answers for providing a forum in which this young person can express their fears. And thank you, young person for being so brave. I know it can be so isolating to live at home with your parents. It’s inevitable that you seek out the comfort of a dog. You’re not old enough to be a legal independent. Plus your deprived millennial ears don’t know how good audio sounds on a real record player. You can’t hear bass at all on those tinny MacBook speakers. It’s so sad. If I were you, I would put all my love and deprivation into that contraband dog and turn it into something positive. Name it “Barbara” and dedicate it to the strongest generation of adults there ever were. I’m saying make it a Baby Boomer dog. Instead of teaching it to sit, teach it to nod as you whisper softly that all music lives in the wake of the sound that the Beatles created. Then tell your parents that you’re “having trouble relating” to the kids your age with their phones and you simply “don’t get how social media is appealing.” They’ll be so glad to have you as their precocious offspring that they’ll forget you betrayed them by getting an illicit dog.


If I was Wayne, I would have yelled out into the backyard that I knew they were shrunk and for them to make their way to the big rock in the middle of the yard. Then I would check it every hour or so. (via the Honey I Shrunk The Kids IMDB message board)

Why’s it all about the kids in this movie? How about Honey I’m Making Dad Feel Small By Not Looking Up From My Phone to Make Eye Contact During a Nice Dinner Conversation? Isn’t indifference causing more irreparable damage than science? And maybe Wayne’s sick of yelling. Maybe Wayne’s yelling never got him anywhere with his kids in the past and so he retreated to a den where he recently found out all about Google searching. And maybe he found out there’s A LOT of articles about the LEGENDARY Rolling Stones on it. Besides, we can’t change Wayne. Not now. Not after all this. You can’t always get what you want, kid.


In response to Buzzfeed’s article on “24 People Who Are Really Nailing This Parenting Thing”

Hello fellow humans with kids! It’s nice to find a space here in this enormous young person-dominated LORD OF THE FLIES-esque online island for adults like us to get together and celebrate our wins. And hats off to the parents who take the time to infuse their tooth fairy notes with some morals. This list could have gone on and on! I just know that if the list extended to include 26 or 28 parental innovations then my video of me surprising my thirty year old with a PINK FLOYD-matched-to-WIZARD-OF-OZ sleepover party would have made the cut. Just wish all of you could have been there. How bout I make up for that and say you’re all invited to next year’s festivities. Hope you guys like hip hop, you know cause I’m open-minded like you guys. Don’t you hate those kinds of dads that are like “Rap’s not music!” Because I’m pretty sure it is almost music. Do not go gently in the night, my ripening friends. Give rap a chance.


In response to National Geographic’s Instagram account

Wow, thanks National Geographic for allowing me back in. Weird that you put your pictures on Instagram for the masses to consume and then just like that you take my commenting privileges away and block me for misuse! I was simply suggesting that as a distinguished magazine known for its journalistic integrity you could do a little more than post adorable animal pictures all the time. Perhaps I should use the free healthcare I now qualify for because I don’t feel all that much when I see an unlikely animal pairing. Perhaps I need therapy because a panda falling off a branch just isn’t “doing” it for me. Ok I’m a little defensive because this is the first time I’ve been blocked from something other than my neighborhood bakery and my son’s room. There was a time when the world rewarded my relevance instead of reported it to the authorities. Nobody recognizes dads in their time.

Sam Riley is a budding humorist for hire based in San Francisco. She’s a contributor to The Portlandia Activity Book (McSweeney’s) and will start tweeting (@samsatomi) any day now.