A Comprehensive Guide to Raising Kids

Hey, guys.

Thought it was just a flash in the pan, me coming back with the blog and all. Didn't want to get your hopes up because you knew deep inside I was just going to abandon you all for another year? I bet you're reading this now thinking "You're just writing this just to purposefully get my hopes up. Writing a blog two weeks in a row doesn't make you consistent, Lon. HOW DARE YOU PLAY WITH MY EMOTIONS!"

You're right... two weeks in a row doesn't make me consistent. Now, I'm not gonna promise I'll be back next week... but I guess, we'll see.

Now, I've been racking my brain about what to write about. Nothing really has happened in the last week. I mean... today I got off of work because it's a holiday. I think its the Children's Holiday... All I know is that I didn't go to work today and it isn't a problem... this time, at least.

But this holiday is appropriate. I wanted to write about children today... but not in that way... uhhh... I've gone and made this awkward.

What I mean is a lot of people I know have kids. Like my parents... They've got kids. So does my sister. And my aunt and uncle. And I'm sure a lot of other people.

Now I don't have kids... I hope. If I do, no one has alerted me of this. I mean... people have but I ignored them. YOU CAN'T SUB POENA ME IF I'M IN TURKEY! HA HA!

Anyway, I want to impart my wisdom on child-rearing to you, my dear readers. If you follow this guide, you will raise your inferior gooey babies into manly men and ... uh... womanly women. Is womanly a word? Apparently it is because I'm not getting the squiggly red line under it. WOMANLY!

So let's get started.

MAKING THE BABY

Now... I'm a little shaky on this part of the process. Something about bees and birds. Is the stork the bird? Does the bee sting the stork and out of revenge the stork delivers a small human to the owners of the bees? Do all parents own bees? ... This metaphor raises more questions than it answers. 

Basically, when a man and woman... uhhh... want to... ummm... okay... why don't you just watch some porn and you'll get the gist of it. Just no gang bang porn. That'll confuse you. And lesbian and gay porn (not saying it's inferior to straight porn... please don't kill me) isn't what you're looking for. Also... ummm... solo work and blow jobs also it... you're going to have to narrow it down to creampies... just not anal creampies. I'll just wait here while you do that...

Good... now if you're a guy reading this... go clean yourself off. I'll wait a little longer. Oh... and just remember, you outta be ashamed. Disgusting. I sent you on one fact-finding mission and you just can't help yourself. I hope your dad/ mom/ grandmother/ dog walked in on you and cried. Now go wash yourself off, you animal.

To the ladies, I'm so sorry that we have to wait until these beasts cleanse off their shame goo from their nether regions... anyway... did you hear about Kristie and her new boyfriend? Yeah, I know... what a whore, right? He's kinda cute though. Think I have a chan- Oh hey guys, are you done washing up? Good. Fuckin' animals the lot of you.

Now to the next point.

PREGNANCY

Women. You are majestic and magnificent. You bring life into this world and only you can do that. That's why there's a wage gap.

Men. Your woman is gonna get fat. Try not to sleep with younger, thinner women. If you sleep with anyone, it should be with the mother of your future child... or someone much fatter and older than her. SHE WILL NEVER SUSPECT IT. Also, if you do that, sleeping with your wife will be like an upgrade. You'll appreciate your woman more. You'll say things to yourself like "Oh thank god! My woman may be pregnant but at least she doesn't have a hunchback/tons of warts/ back hair/ a 5 o'clock shadow/ a hook for a hand/ a penis/ an strange obsession with mating rituals of sea turtles like that other woman. If you're going to cheat, cheat to strengthen your relationship.

Women. Your man is going to be doing his best to be there for you/ avoid you at all costs due to pregnancy-induced madness. This may not happen again. Demand him to be at your side constantly. BREAK HIS SOUL. Remind him that it takes two to tango but only one not to pull out. Set the field for your future together. You don't want him to be carefree, independent, or happy. If you're miserable, make sure he is too. Pregnancy is a team effort. Remind him that you're the coach, and he's playing in the NCAA. (I'm sorry, ladies... only the guys will probably get that last joke. It's college sports... not that organization for black people... you're thinking of the NAACP... don't worry... happens more than I'd care to admit... wait, one of you thought it was for guns? You mean the NRA? How?... okay, yes both start with an N and end with an A... I know, but that's really all they have in-... WAIT! You thought it was that band with George Michael from the 80s? WHAM!? How could you even- ... Yes, I like that song too... no... stop singing it... it's gonna get stuck in.... OH GOD IT'S IN THERE ALREADY! THANKS A LOT, KAREN!... No it isn't by Hall & Oates... you're thinking of "You Make My Dreams Come True." GOD DAMMIT, NOW THAT'S IN MY HEAD! FUUUUUUUUUUUUU-)

 Oates's moustache makes my dreams come true

Wow... that was quite a tangent.

I'm sure a lot of you are eager to find the sex of the baby. Don't. It will only confuse you. Let it be spontaneous. Sure, people won't know what color scheme to get for gifts or what balloons to buy. Keep them on their toes. Make them feel bad for not being more attentive to the spawn growing in your collective womb. MAKE THEM PANIC! Guilt them for not giving enough presents.

BIRTH

Now, there is no delicate way to put this. I mean, a baby is gonna bust outta your woman's/ your vagina like the Kool Aid Man. I mean... the Kool Aid Man busts outta walls... not a vagina. I guess if you're in a field and someone say "Hey KOOL AID!" right next to someone's vagina, I'm sure he would bust out of that. It would be strange to say the least... why didn't he just bust outta the ground which is basically a wall for your feet? Why does he even come in the first place? So many questions... is the Kool Aid like his blood? Has anyone actually seen him drink Kool Aid? Is he like a Jesus type figure where he offers his blood to you for salvation? 

Moving on... if you have any questions as to how the miracle of birth looks like or you need a quick reference to show your children, who have the fuckin' nerve to ask where babies come from... Here you go...

Birth... Truly remarkable, isn't it?

 Anyway, now you have a brand-new baby. Is it a boy or girl? Are you assuming its gender? Ask it. If it doesn't say anything, just assume then. 

Now, if you have a girl, it's pretty simple. Name it. If you're white, just give it a "k" name. Kaitlin, Karen, Katie, Kristie, Kstephanie, Knuckles... if you're not white, you can't name it a "k" name. It'll confuse everyone. White people only get "k" and most of the months of the year. Everyone else gets one month but all the other letters for girls. And that's why there's a wage gap.

Black people... you can name your girl anything you want... and I'm sorry for ... um... well... everything... I guess everything is the best way to sum it up at this point.

Now, if you're Jewish... you know deep down that you're white. Let's not argue this. But, you can choose more than "k." I can't even think of a Jewish name that starts with K. BUT! If it isn't a Jewish name, you have to stick to the "k" convention. Look, I don't make the rules. So... for example... Karen Cohen is a fine name. Rachel Cohen is another fine name. Alexandra Cohen goes against the system. She will outcast and adopted by minorities. Them the rules.

Now if you have a boy, you have two main questions: What will his name be? and How do I get rid of that foreskin? Don't worry, I GOT YOU! Boys should have names that can't be made fun of easily. CHILDREN ARE FUCKIN' RUTHLESS. For example... my name growing up was Bud. My dad was Lon (that selfish bastard stealing my name) and I was Bud. BUD SOUNDS TOO MUCH LIKE BUTT! And then, it doesn't help that there's Budweiser and Bud Light. FUCKIN THANKS A LOT, DAD! HE GETS TO KEEP THE COOL NAME WHILE I'M REFERRED TO AS A LITERAL ASS! 

And that's why I stole his underwear when I was in middle school.

You might be thinking "John is a good name." Is it?! I've gotta go to the john! NO! SEE, IT'S USELESS!

Here are some safe names... Thadeus, Christian (NOT CHRIS... CHRIS CROSS APPLE SAUCE), Steven (NOT STEPHEN! It's TOO CLOSE TO STEPHANIE), Methuselah, Todd, Chad, Jedidiah, Eric, Angelo, Rufus, Marcus (NOT MARK... You got bad marks in math, Mark... see what I mean!?), Andrew, Kunta (NOT TOBY! HIS NAME WILL NOT BE TOBY), T'Challa, Ryan (but not Brian... it sounds too much like Ryan), Adam, David, Daniel, and Peter.

Now, if your son gets made fun of, it won't be because of his name... it will because he is just inferior to the other kids at school. That's just bad genetics and you only have your own testicles to blame... yell at them and hopefully they won't disappoint you with the next child. 

Now, if your Muslim and in the US... you gotta be smart. On the birth certificate give them the WHITEST NAME you can possibly think of. I'll help... ummm... Adolf Hitler... no that's too white... ummm... Christian Notmuslim. There you go. Hopefully he should be able to get on planes with no problem.

Latinos... just give your kids Muslim names, it's not like we have enough money to buy plane tickets anyway and we already look Arab. Plus, they're never asked about papers or any of that shit, so it's a win-win really. When you speak Spanish, put extra phlegm in the "j's". It'll sound like Arabic. Now, you don't have to worry about ICE... just the FBI.

Black people... you guys can use whatever name you want... 

So, how to get rid of the foreskin? I'm sure some of you are saying 'why get rid of the foreskin?' Dick cheese. I said it. Dick... fuckin'... cheese. Look that up why don't you. Plus, kids can hide things in their foreskin like knives and guns. It's a security precaution. 

Get rid of the foreskin right away. Don't wait for the doctor. Bite it off if you have to. The longer you wait, the more attached to it your son will get to it. But don't throw it away. Keep it. Put it on your mantle. Have it as a trophy so your son will always know that his dick has already been bested by his father. Put it in a case. Have your son clean, dust, and polish the case everyday in the morning. Let him start the day off being reminded of your superiority.

EARLY CHILDHOOD

The first couple years are uneventful. Your child will shit, eat, vomit, sleep, cry, and learn a few new tricks. It will learn to talk... remind it that it is more important to learn to listen. Have a word limit. Once it goes over that limit for the day, calmly scream "SHUT THE FUCK UP" in its face until it starts crying. You are the parent. Remember your role. There's no need to hit your child. Physical discipline can only break their bodies... Your words can break their souls.

This isn't to say you shouldn't encourage them to speak. Especially when their close to the word limit, engage them. Try to get them talking. But as soon as they hit that limit, remind them of the rules with the ancient parenting technique of screaming. Really startle them. Suddenly grabbing them should do the trick. Don't break eye contact. Really savor the look of panic in their young, impressionable eyes.

Your child will also learn to walk. They need to get permission to do so. If they can't formulate the words, then they don't deserve to walk. Put them in a purse or large bag. Paris Hilton did it with her chihuahua, and that chihuahua looked grateful. Your child should be equally, if not more, grateful. Your child's first words shouldn't be "mama" or "papa." They should be "May I walk?" The answer should be "no." Remind them that they didn't say "please." When they ask again with "please" in it, explain that the decision was final, but they can appeal the decision after filling out several forms and getting them notarized by the appropriate authorities. It's never too early to teach your children the joys of bureaucracy.

Just remember. Your kids aren't going to remember any of this shit anyway. If they ask about this time, avoid the subject or just lie. Point at your woman's/ your vagina and remind them of the hell they wrought on it. It's never going to be the same. We all make sacrifices. Sometimes a sacrifice can be shutting the fuck up. Stop being selfish and be a team player. Ungrateful little shit.

NORMAL CHILDHOOD

Now, this is the time when they will actually remember shit. They can read and write. They may even be going to school. Try to get them into school as soon as possible. That's 8 hours that you don't have to be anywhere near them, thank God. This is not an easy time, however. You have to be strong and consistent. I am dividing this into two. One for boys and one for girls.

Boys

Boys should have minimal contact with their mothers. They can't become overly reliant on women. If he has to interact with his mother, make sure you/ your woman puts on a fake moustache. He must not be allowed to connect to anything feminine... unless you find out he's gay, then he can only spend time with his mother. If he is going to be gay, he must be fabulous. That little queer is going to go into acting and make you a shit ton of money. Value him over all of his siblings. Make sure he's really gay though. There's no money in pseudo-gays. Limit your family to only one gay son. Make him convert to Judaism to really raise his chances of making it in show biz. 

Now don't confuse gay with trans. If you got yourself a trans daughter, scroll down to the girls part. She should be treated no differently than a girl. 

Let's assume you have a typical cis-gendered  heterosexual male son. As previously stated, limit his time with his mother. She should only acknowledge his existence once or twice a day but no more. His feelings should be non-existent. Not to say he doesn't have emotions, but he should never allow any one to know he has them. This includes happiness and anger. The only emotions that should be displayed are gratitude and subservience.

As his father, you should consistently remind him of his inferiority to you. He should already be keeping the maintenance of his foreskin case, but also make sure he stares at it for a solid half hour meditating on his subservient position to you. Regale him with the story of how you circumcised that little bastard.

You should shower with your son. (Not take baths. Baths are gay. Therefore, they are reserved for your gay son.) Make sure your son sees your massive dick. Really flaunt it. Remember to keep him at a distance from it. You don't want him noticing any flaws. Imprint in his mind that this is the biggest penis to ever exist. The mere mass of it will imprint in his memory for time en memorium. When you first start this, it will most likely be bigger than his head. No one can forget a dick bigger than their head. Try... You CAN'T.

Now, if you are unfortunate enough to have a micro-penis, then try to imprint that your son is the freak. Tell him that his penis is monstrous and abnormal. Tell him that his mother handled radioactive materials during her pregnancy and that's why he has such a freakish dick.

Maybe, your son brings you drawings from school or tries to impress you in any way. Maybe, he wants to gain your approval. Your approval is set aside for only one child, and that's your gay son. If it isn't your gay son, he will never get your approval. This is where you should show him your talents. If he shows you a drawing, draw a better picture right in front of him. Draw a better picture of you drawing a better picture with one hand drawing and the other flipping the bird. Is picture you wearing sunglasses? You better believe he's wearing sunglasses and they're bitchin'. 

Did your son do well in school? Go to the school and get all the assignments the teacher gave out. Do them in front of him. Tell him that all the answers are right and it took you like five minutes to do it all. Remind him that not only is your dick bigger but so is your brain. Then tell him to run a lap around the house or else he won't get dinner.

At no point should your son hear the words "good" and "job" in the same sentence. The word "congratulations" should be foreign to him unless done in a sarcastic tone. 

Maybe, you have two or more sons. Never favor any of them (unless one is gay). They may fight for your affection. The older one might bully the younger one. Give the younger one a knife if this happens. Then reprimand both of them. There's no reason to fight when both know they are equally inferior to you. Have them sit in silence while you flex your muscles shirtless in the living room for an hour. Don't break eye contact.

Once they are of age, show them how babies are made. Really get technical and descriptive as you demonstrate with your woman. You should do this in a cold monotone manner. Do not show joy. Also, do no let them look away as you violate the once-sacred entity that is their mother. Neither one of you should break eye contact. Remain silent in this exchange apart from your explanation. Grunts and moans are a sign of weakness and I assure you will be interpreted as such. End the demonstration by pulling out and ejaculating into an old-timey spittoon. Give your woman a firm handshake and a nod. Turn to your son and tell them that no woman would ever engage in this act with him due to his unworthiness. Have him run a lap around the house and give you 20 push-ups. When he finishes, have him sit down while you once again flex your muscles for an hour in complete naked silence.

Girls

So, you've got yourself a girl. Mazel tov. Girls are fundamentally different from boys in several ways. First, separate the trans sons from the daughters. Trans sons are raised like regular boys. Refer to the section above. Good. Now, second, are any of your daughters a lesbian. If you have a lesbian on your hands I'm sorry. They are not like gay sons. Lesbians cannot make you any money in Hollywood. There's only one successful one. That's Ellen. She's not going no where. It doesn't matter if your lesbian daughter is Jewish or not. She is effectively useless. Try to break even by pushing her towards the business world and being supportive of her choices. There's nothing to lose. It's not like she's going to produce grandchildren or a rich husband. She is going to have to be self-sufficient, so raise her as such. Never let her know how truly disappointed you are. I guess she'll have to settle for a "normal, loving childhood." Jesus, even typing that makes me nauseous.

So you should be left with the heterosexual, cis-gendered girls. Good. They will have one purpose in life: fetching a rich husband. This is the sole job of you women. Their father should never serve as an living example of how men should be. You don't want them having expectations. Expectations leads to difficulties finding a rich husband.

Constantly try to live vicariously through them. Always point out the defects of their father. Remind them that they don't want to end up like you. Dictate all your instructions while sitting on the couch and drinking wine. If you like to exercise and stay fit, never let your daughters see you do this. Constantly point out that they are too skinny or too fat. Suggest it's due to the food they eat. Never cook for them. You're not going to be the one cooking for their husbands and they know damn well how to read. They can figure out a recipe on their own.

Have them start making pastries like cookies and cakes. After eating it, tell them you now know why they are so fat. That should push them toward cooking healthy food.

Enter them in beauty pageants and purposefully sabotage them behind their backs. When they inevitably lose, blame them for all the problems in your life. 

If they become even remotely interested in boys their own age, scare them out of it. Tell them that boys their age will lure them into rivers and drown them. Make sure your daughters never look into Irish folklore, especially in regards to the kelpie... they might start making connections.

This is a Kelpie. Guess what happens next?

 Force images of handsome old men on them. This will widen your market for suitable husbands. Try to get them physically attracted to money. Every once in a while buy your daughter something nice. "Rent" it to her. When she can't pay the rent, take it away from her. Puppies and kitties are perfect for this. Really get her attached to it. Have her pick out a name and spend a solid month with it. Really make the connection between receiving unconditional affection and money.

When she gets her first period, this is when you can look for potential suitors. Make sure they offer a compensation for the loss of your daughter. Dinner isn't going to cook itself anymore after all. Check their financial records and get proof of pension/employment. The older the better. With any luck, the money you get for one of your daughters is enough to pay for your lesbian daughter's university tuition or your gay son's acting lessons.

ADDITIONAL ADVICE

Regardless of what you have (with the exception of a lesbian or gay son), never tell your children you love them. Make them really earn it. Once your sons finish university and get decent jobs or once your daughters get married to a suitable husband, then and only then can you say "I love you." It'll have them coming back for more. If questioned by their colleagues and friends or government authorities about the upbringing of your child, pause and imagine how your child's upbringing would be if they were gay/lesbian. Then, tell them that. 

If you follow this to a tee, I assure you that your kids will be successful AND profitable, or your money back.

Also, only hug or hold your children when you have to fart. As soon as you hold them, let it rip. Make sure it is as loud as possible. This won't help anyone. I just am curious if you can "Pavlov" a child into making a connection between farts and physical parental affection.

The Return of the King

Haha... I made a Lord of the Rings reference... you see what I did there...

Okay... so it's been... uh... well... over a year since I wrote in this. I'm sure you're wondering "why? why come back? I was living my life just fine without you, Lon."
To that I say this: I'm important GOD DAMMIT! YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!

I can already feel that I'm off my game. This ol' fingers of mine have become rusty. I'm sure there's a dirty joke in that last sentence, but that's how rusty I am... I can't find it.

Anyway, let me give you a brief update since I last graced your- OH SHIT! IT WAS A MASTURBATION JOKE! I TOTALLY MISSED IT! I coulda made a wanking joke about rusty fingers and jizz... I think I still got it.

So where was I. Ummmm... Alright, so last you saw me... or heard from me... whateves... I think I was dating a Persian chick, I had just become head teacher, and life was a giant clump of shit dangling from one of my ass hairs... and the clump of shit was on fire.

Let's just say nothing went well.

But it's alright. Things didn't work out with the Persian chick. That happens. I'm not too bummed about it because... ahem... I gots a girlfriend. More about her later.

As for the job, I'm fucking happy it didn't work out. It was like getting paid to stick your head into a meat grinder... I mean, if you didn't die from doing that... and you weren't disfigured from sticking your head in said meat grinder... so I guess... it was nothing like getting paid to stick your head into a meat grinder... Have my metaphors always fallen apart or is this a new development?

well, thanks for nothing then

Anyway, it sucked. The job. It was thankless and stressful. Also I got demoted from it because I am a dirty socialist who believes in workers' rights and threatened a strike if we weren't paid immediately (they were a month late on wages). Apparently, when you're management, you're supposed to be on the boss's side. In my defense... I didn't know that... 

I knew that.

Luckily, this pushed me into the direction to get a new job. I'll spare you the details... which is basically I got a new job relatively easily... That was something.

Ah, I forgot to tell you about my travels. I went to London. If you like Doctor Who and Sherlock and other things of that variety, I've got some news for you!

Prepare to be...

Look, I dunno what I was expecting when I got to London. But if you are expecting any color other than grey... well, you're gonna be disappointed. Everything is grey. 

Sky: grey. 

Ground: grey. 

Buildings: grey. 

And I just wasn't impressed. For example, I was walking with my main bro, Mo (shout out), and he said "and that's the London Eye."

Guys... the London Eye is a fucking ferris wheel. A FUCKIN' FERRIS WHEEL! I'm thinkin' it's like the Space Needle or the CN Tower. NOPE! Fuckin' fish-and-chips ferris wheel. How the fuck does that attract tourists? 

"Hey do you wanna see this grey-ass city up high?"

"Will it be greyer from up there"

"YOU'RE FUCKIN' RIGHT IT'LL BE!"

And! And! It costs fuckin' money. What kinda shit is that.

Let me make this clear... I live in Istanbul. THIS IS MY DAILY VIEW

And it's a shitty photo, too!

And here's London

Everything is fuckin' GREY! And that building looks like a BUTTPLUG

You see what I mean?! Now, before you feel all satisfied about me dissing on London, lemme make one thing clear. To those of you in the States, I WOULD GO TO LONDON A HUNDRED TIMES THAN GO BACK TO ONE OF YOUR FUCKIN' CITIES AGAIN.

I mean that shit too. When I went back last January, I got "greeted" by an American agent in Heathrow (London airport), got a special selection when I landed, and then got selected again leaving. Now selected means you gotta go through security, like, twice. I almost missed my flight back home to Istanbul. So... YOU CAN EAT A DICK BECAUSE I AIN'T GOING BACK!

... So where was I? OH! I got a job at Istanbul University. And they pay me a stupid amount of money to basically teach 20 hours. AND I MEAN A STUPID AMOUNT OF MONEY... especially when you consider how cheap it is to live here. 

OH AND I DON'T GOT NO DEBT... Just wanted to add that. I feel good about that.

This funny picture needs no relevance. 

So, life is pretty gooooood. And I've somehow managed to get a beautiful, amazing girlfriend. Still have no idea how I pulled that off... AND SHE DOESN'T HAVE A PENIS! I know RIGHT?! Didn't see that one coming! Chick sans dick! 

BREAKING NEWS!!!

This just in... My friend Mo finally got a job in London after looking for one after he finished his Masters... AND THIS MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ME! SO YOU ON BLAST, SON!

...oh shit... I remember that hat... I lost it on the train in London... RIP

We now return to your regular programming.

Yeah, so my girl's name is Pinar. It means "water spring" in Turkish... 

She's ridiculously good-looking

I can't even joke... like I'm not sure how someone who looks like me gets a gorgeous girl like her... and she loves me too. I mean, look at the picture above... and then look at this picture

He looks like he smuggles sharp things in his butt for a living

 

I mean... come on... how does that happen?

It's crazy because I grew up in the US, but I learned how to be an adult in Turkey. Like dating? I had no idea how to do it or what it was. I knew "Hey... you have a pretty face. we can smash our bodies together sweatedly until you decide to stop returning my texts." But dating? Nah... foreign concept. Planning doctors appointments. Paying bills. Paying rent. I mean... I did the last two in the US, but I never had to do it in a foreign language so I guess that's why I put it on here. 

I pay for everything in my life. It's crazy. I bought my own phone, cash... well, I used my card... but it just moved the money in my bank account to the store's bank account... so I think that counts as cash... card? cash? Whatever.... I bought it. I travel around the world... and I buy the tickets... Crazy, right?

I don't mean to brag. That's not the point of this. I mean... I guess it serves many points. At one time it served as a means to explain the intricacies of how the toilets have a jet that shoots water into your asshole... the point is I feel like life is really good. I'm not worried which is an odd feeling for me. Is this normal?

I was born in the US, and no one I know feels in control. No one feels secure. It's just one unlucky day until it all comes crashing down. One trip to your bosses office to be told you've been let go, one untimely illness, one forgotten bill to pay, one mistake in a database somewhere. There's just so much uncertainty. And I guess, that's not how I feel. 

I guess... I guess I'm finally an adult... at the age of 29.

Or maybe I spoke to soon LAWLZ

New position...

So, here we are. I'm sure you all missed me. Now for some news...

I am currently the head teacher at my job.

That's it. It's a decent gig. There's more responsibilities and shit like that, but it's not too bad. It keeps me busy.

I figured this is the best way to let everyone that cares about this sort of thing know.

This is just a quick entry. Not a lot of jokes. I mainly did this out of boredom as I wait for a private student to come.

Oh, and I might... I just might have a girl in my life. I still don't want to jinx it.

God, I need some coffee.

That's all for now. Coffee....

What has become of me

So since I'm a lazy bastard, I've decided to remedy this by blogging from my phone. I'm going to regret this decision, but THE SHOW MUST GO ON. I'm just astounded how low I've fallen (by blogging on my phone... my dignity has always been rock bottom, LAWLZ).

As you can imagine, this post will be short, but all is well. I'm legally in this country, so that's a definite plus. My friend Mo is coming to visit me here in Istanbul at the end of November. That's pretty cool, right. My Turkish is coming along... not quickly, but it's coming (like your mother was last night... unless of course you're related to me, in which I retract the "your mother" statement. The women in my family are notorious for not being able to achieve orgasm and I will hear nothing to the contrary. I say GOOD DAY TO YOU, SIR).

Well, that was quite a parenthesised tangent.

"But, Lon... what about your views on the political-"
Shut your whore mouths. Do the world a favor and vote Trump. Let America implode on its own batshit insanity and die with the virtually non-existent dignity it might have. The world will thank you.

"And what about a girlfr-"
Don't jinx me, motherfuckers. I don't want to put it print because that means it's real, and I'm not allowed to have nice things. So, silence I say!

I need to add a picture to this... ugh... let me see... let me see... hmmmm..

I know. I know. I'm late...

I'm not sure when the last time I wrote in here. It's been a month or so. I know... I suck. It happens. But, a lot of things have happened since I last wrote. I mean... there was a lot of nothing happening, but there were things too. Cool things. For example, I think I went to Tekirdağ since the last time I wrote. That's a city west of Istanbul. You say it "Teh-keer-daah." The "g" with the hat thingy is kinda silent... It's more like a French "r" and an super soft Arabic "ghayn." Who am I kidding, none of you motherfuckers know either of those letter.

It's fun to be condescending to my readership.

Anyway, that trip was something magical. I still need to travel to other parts of Turkey, but that will come later.

OH! I forgot! There was a coup attempt! Fuck you, America. I knew it was going to happen, but I wasn't sure when. I was ecstatic when it failed. Turkey is my home. You don't fuck with my home.

Home? But, isn't the US your home?

No. This will be a little hard to understand for my white readership, so let me explain. Home is where you feel comfortable. It is where you feel safe. It is where you feel welcomed. For a lot of you, the States have been the only place you've lived. As white people, America is for you. No one really seriously challenges your American-ness or right to be there. Sure, you occasionally have to look at a meme where there are Native Americans saying that you're an illegal immigrant, but that's a fuckin' meme, man. Not serious political action. You feel bad for like 5 minutes and then go on being happy or whatever white people do. I find it interesting that at this point, one of my friends would burst out "BUT YOU'RE WHITE!"

Ah... I forget on the count that when I have to fill out job applications that I can't honestly check that little box that says "White (Non-Hispanic)."

When your complexion and your ethnic group contradict.

Sure, my complexion is white. I'm not arguing that. But, let's get one thing straight; my skin has nothing to do with my culture or ethnic group. What's worse is that, as a Latino that passes for white, I get to hear all the fucked-up things people think about Latinos. I would put Mexicans, but honestly, most people don't know the difference. Do you? Can you point to Puerto Rico on a map? Don't google it. Right now... point to it on a map... I'll wait.

So that was fun, wasn't it? You might be saying, "Why should I need to know where Puerto Rico is?" Funny you should ask that. You see, we are a colony of the US. Sure, it's called a "commonwealth," but the Democratic Republic of Congo is called a "democratic republic," too. See how words are fun? See how this is a segue to a whole other topic? Aren't I a cheeky little bastard? SEGUE!

I got no time for pussy when I'm on my segue!

Now, Puerto Rico has been a colony since aboooooout 1898. Now being a Spanish-speaking island under the US during the early 1900s wasn't necessarily the best position to be in. A lot of fucked up shit happened. Believe you me. After completely destroying our independence movement and buying up most of our agricultural property through one-sided deals with a select few locals who sold out the future of our island, we are faced with a slight inevitable problem. Government funding. Puerto Rico can't choose who it trades with. It can't openly compete with American companies. It exists as a source of resources for American corporations. Oh! And it is a tax haven also. Don't forget that. Convenient. 

Now, the government of Puerto Rico is in a temporarily-halted massive debt spiral of doom. I think it's the US's responsibility to pay it off. 

WHAAAAT?!

Hear me out. The system in place is because of our "special" relationship with the US. We've given so much to the States (resources, people, soldiers, culture, tax havens, visa-free Caribbean getaway). We are in around 70 billion dollars of debt. Plus, you give Israel billions every year in free aid. Israel isn't even your fucking country. You know what that says? It says that you prefer to support an apartheid state than aid American citizens, which Puerto Ricans are. I say Puerto Rico gives its debtors the US's number and tell them that the US has the money. Apparently it does if it can continue to send billions of dollars to Israel simply for existing. Why doesn't the US make Israel the colony and let Puerto Rico go? They keep giving us the "opportunity to become a state," but that will never pass Congress. 

Anyway, that's it for now. There'll be more. Meehhh

Lon's Guide to Becoming a Turk

So, you want to become a Turk... Good. It's a fairly easy process... sort of. Wait... are you American? Oh... then, it will be a difficult process filled with confusion, fear, self-doubt, and a nagging sense of being uncomfortable. Luckily for me, I'm more Puerto Rican (culturally speaking), so it wasn't too difficult for me. Anyway, this is the guide to become Turkish! YAY!

And this is a picture of the Iron Sheikh wrestling a gummy worm

 

Step 1) Language

 

Do you speak any language other than Turkish? Yes? STOP IT! Real Turks only speak Turkish... Unless you're from the southeast of Turkey... then, chances are that you speak Kurdish. If that is the case, STOP IT! Never mention Kurdish. Yes, it exists, but you shouldn't acknowledge it exists. Always mutter something about the PKK. Make sure you do that in Turkish. Is your family from the southeast? Guess what? They never spoke Kurdish. Never. Your grandparents never spoke Kurdish. Your neighbors never spoke Kurdish. What's Kurdish? Is that like a salad dressing? Do you put it on hotdogs? Now, you're getting the hang of it.

Turkish is a great language. Just remember that the "c" makes a hard "j" sound. Always. The name "Can" sounds exactly like the English name "John." You don't smoke cigarettes; you drink jigarets. Drink up, baby.

Also, there are two g's. One is normal. It's the "g" as in "golf." The other has a weird hat on it. "Ğ" is the "silent g." The jury is out on whether or not it is the "silent yet deadly g." You pronounce it like a French "r." How do you pronounce a French "r"? Ummm... I... um... Moving on.

Remember that English won't put the hat on the "g," so you have to guess if it is there in words. For example, it's in yogurt. Feel betrayed yet? We'll come back to yogurt later.

"I'm waiting for you."

 

Step 2) Turkish Pride

 

 

You see that flag right there? Sexy isn't it? You will learn to love this flag. You will put it everywhere. Oh, and remember the Ottoman Empire. You know, that empire that lasted over 500 years and was a cosmopolitan mix of a vast amount of cultures, peoples, and ethnicities? It's only Turkish now. Only the Turks can claim it as theirs despite any evidence to the contrary. Fuck you that's why!

Do you like wolves? Of course you do! You're Turkish! Don't listen to those assholes that say you evolved from monkeys! Also, I know you're Muslim (and we will get to that point later) and it says that God made you from clay, but that's wrong too. You were made from grey wolves. Keep in mind that you are not a werewolf nor do you ever transform into a wolf at any time. Regular bullets can still kill you. They don't have to be silver. Just a heads up.

Try to remember the many contributions that Turks have given the world in the forms of cuisine. Baklava, Turkish coffee, yogurt, kebab, YOGURT! Whenever a foreigner mentions Greeks, go into a rabid fury about how those Greek bastards have stolen all these Turkish innovations. They really are thieving bastards. Those Greek thieving bastards.

 

Oh! and tea.

 

 

You will drink roughly 10 in a day. The max amount of sugar per cup is two sugar cubes. Anything more and you're basically an Arab... and no one wants to be an Arab. Damn sugar-loving Arabs.

Also, did something happen outside of Turkey? Who the fuck cares! Tune it out. Only Turkey matters. There's famine in Africa? Is Africa in Turkey? Nope! Don't care. Even when it comes to the politics of neighbors and those politics directly affect Turkey, you don't care. The civil war in Syria? What's your point? It isn't Turkey. Do I look like one of those sugar-loving Arabs? I don't care about anything outside of Turkey.

 

Step 3) Islam

 

You're Muslim now! Surprise!

 

Right now, it is Ramazan (or Ramadan in English, but you're wrong; it's Ramazan). Are you fasting? Don't worry, you don't need to. Just pretend you are right before iftar (dinner after sundown). Just don't drink water (easy), smoke (little harder), or drink tea (FUCKIN' IMPOSSIBLE) for a couple of hours before sundown. Look solemn and concentrated as you pretend to have been fasting the whole day. Make all the arrangements to have iftar. If anything goes wrong with the plan, get upset because remember... you've been fasting for the last hour and a half.

But what if you are actually fasting? Good for you. Don't worry about prayer though. Yes, you should pray five times a day, but let's get serious. You're fasting. That should be enough for God. It's definitely enough for you. Maybe, God shouldn't be so demanding. God should be happy that you're fasting. God should be grateful that you've decided to follow the rules. He should be happy that you decided to stop drinking on Friday nights during Ramazan. Other nights don't count because God is sleeping those nights. Shhhh! Don't wake him up.

Now, you're Muslim, and there's a thing about not having sex before marriage. Sure, there's butt sex. That doesn't count as sex because it's in the butt. That's why the butt is there... unless I'm missing something. However, maybe you just want regular ol' sex. It's okay... you can tell Lon. If you're a girl, this is easy. Step one is to find a guy. Rinse and repeat.

If you're a guy, finding a girl might be a little more difficult. Don't be thrown off by the girls with hijab. They get down too. You must never say it directly though. NEVER. You can hint at it. NEVER ASK A GIRL IF SHE IS A VIRGIN! YOU WILL GET SLAPPED! You can figure it out other ways. Ask if she is traditional or not. Traditional means she is waiting for marriage so you can only do butt stuff. Not traditional means she is good to go. 

 

Lucky for you, Turkish women are gorgeous. Remember that.

Now for my Shi'a friends... you may not be disturbed by this. All you gotta do is find a Shi'a girl and have a nikah mut'ah. NOPE! No one does that here. Not a single girl will agree to that. Even if they aren't traditional, they will never agree to mut'ah. Go ahead... explain how it is halal. See how far that gets you (answer: nowhere). 

Also, the term Shi'a (Shii in Turkish). You have to be more specific. There are a few types of Shii here. The most popular is Alevi. They are groovy people, but they aren't what you're used to if you're an Arab Shi'i. Then, there are the Bektashi. They are from Trakya (Thrace). They are also groovy, but again... not what you're used to. The one you're looking for is Jaferi... but wait... they are also known as Azeri... like people from Azerbaijan. It's a little confusing because Turks know Shii, but not necessarily Jaferi. You have to say you are Azeri even though you aren't from Azerbaijan. It's complicated, man... that's why I'm writing this down. 

Final Thoughts

 

Now, this is by no means a complete guide. I'm writing this at 12 o' clock at night... I want to go to sleep. I have work in the morning. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?! Anyway, this should be a good start on your journey to... BECOMING TURKISH!

I'm in a constant state of disappointing myself.

And you all thought I was crazy for leaving

Judging by the outcome of the presidential primaries, I'm sure a lot of you are desperate to find a way to leave America. Worry not, my good friends. Papa Lon (fuck it, that's what I'm referring to myself at the moment) has your back. But... let us first pause as I soak in this glorious moment of "I-fucking-told-you-so."

Is that a hint of hazelnut I detect? 

Now first, let's analyze this situation. So we got Trump and Hillary... and you guys are fucked. What's sad is that most of the world is focused on Trump. I get it. He's absolutely insane. He says terrible things, but that's the thing... they are just words. Hillary on the other hand... well, we'll play a little game.- YAY!-

The game is to see how many articles I can reference to her past horrific actions and current stances. Are you ready?

Hillary Clinton and Libya - 1

Hillary Clinton and Libya - 2

Hillary Clinton and Libya - 3

Hillary Clinton and Palestine - 1

Hillary Clinton and Money and Selling Cabinet Positions - 1

Hillary Clinton and the Honduran Coup - 1

Hillary Clinton and the Honduran Coup - 2

Hillary Clinton and South Sudan and Child Soldiers - 1

Hillary Clinton and Approving of Drone Assassinations via Personal Cellphone 

Hillary Clinton and Syria - 1

Hillary Clinton and Intimidating a Rape Victim of Her Husband

Hillary Clinton and the Child Rape Victim - 1 

So, what can you do? You have two horrible choices. You are simply voting against the candidate you want to lose. Ah, Democracy. This is what we demand other countries have.

Oh! And guns. Yes, we have the Second Amendment, but Fuck that Amendment. Now, hear me out...

I'm not saying this because I don't think you shouldn't have guns. I'm saying this because no one in America uses them correctly. Hunting? Self-protection against other citizens? Mass shootings? No! NO! NOOOOO! It's all wrong.

We have guns for the sole purpose of arming a militia to fight a tyrannical government. Well, the government has been tyrannical for some time now, and we still demand no one shoots a cop. We still stand up to support the people who oppress us today or will oppress us tomorrow. So guess what, America? You've lost your right to have guns because you were too cowardly to put your lives on the line for your country. No, going to Iraq is not fighting for your country. You're fighting for corporate interests. Don't be mad at me for stating the obvious. I think deep down, you always knew. It's okay. You can cry on my shoulder. Let it out... shhh shhhh... let it out.

Anyway, if you want to leave America (no, Canada is not an option), you have to be skilled labor. For example, I am an ESL teacher. I have a certification and what-not. I'm all set to go. Any engineers reading this? Yeah, you can make your way over here. Oh, you might want to learn another language. It tends to help.

If you want to get certified to teach English... it'll cost you a bit, and you're going to need some free time. The best certification is CELTA. Trust me, it's the tits. You can go anywhere with that shit. Maybe, you aren't ready for that kind of commitment. Maybe, you just want to get your toe in the water. Maybe, you're a little bitch.

If that be the case, just search for TESL certification. It has many names. TEFL, TESOL, Larry.

Anyway, so I'm fasting right now... you know... Ramadan. It's more than just not eating. It's not smoking or drinking.

You get used to it. Trust me, the not-drinking-anything makes the not-eating-anything way easier. Hopefully that sentence made sense. The only thing I don't like about Ramadan is my breath. It is not pleasant. Mine right now is a borderline war crime.

Anyway, that's it for now.