People wonder why I don’t have children. THIS. THIS IS WHY.
Because Hollywood has essentially taught us that children are either misbehaving monsters who fuck up your house, or literal monsters who fuck up your house. And frankly, I had a hard enough time teaching my damn dogs how to use the damn dog door. I don’t need the added hassle of wide-mouth tooth-demons and swallowing beds and having to worry about vomiting up bees.
What I’m saying is, I got enough shit on my plate, people. I don’t need evil crazy girl. Or even if she’s not evil crazy girl, she’s fucking haunted or hunted by devils or watching videotapes she shouldn’t be or being some creepy as fuck Culkin child, and then next thing you know horses are jumping off of boats and Brian Cox is half-butt-naked in my bathroom electrocuting himself, and who wants that? WHO, I ASK YOU?
Wait, what movie are we talking about again?
MY POINT. Children are clearly evil and not to be trusted. Oh, yeah, yours is a fucking angel, I’m sure. Don’t come crying to me when your walls are bleeding and crows are flying through your chimney and tearing at your eye goo and shit’s flying around and you just KNOW there’ll be some kind of fucked up clown or corn-monster. Because that’s the kind of luck I have.
Anyway. Here’s a bunch of clips from Case 39, starring Blandly O’Handsome and Squinty McEmotestoomuch. And that fucking kid from Eclipse who is clearly going to bring hell into your house and Squinty should have just put her shit in a fucking home if she had any goddamn sense at all.
FUCK, people. Kids are a nightmare, is all I’m saying.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.