8/07/2007
My Kid Wouldn’t Know a Hottie If One Kneeled to Suck His Cock
A Toledo Tales Guest Editorial
By Richard Magsen, Parent
Nick Magsen and Shrapnel Face: Not a Desirable Combination
Our son Nick is a good kid. He gets solid grades, stays out of trouble, and for a 16 year-old, is pretty damn honest and respectful to Linda and me. The only thing that bothers me, though, is that he keeps hanging out with all these weirdo girls that he meets through his high school’s theatre company.
It seems like my kid wouldn’t know a hottie if one kneeled in a mall parking lot to suck his still-developing cock.
Nick will be a junior this year, so he needs to start to take his reputation seriously. If he gets pegged as the chubby theatre kid who hangs out with fatties and brace-faces, he’s gonna be a bottom-feeder well through college.
Like this girl Christina he brought home last Saturday. This girl’s face looked like it took some heavy shrapnel at Normandy, and she was wearing, of all things, a slinky Marilyn Manson t-shirt. Marilyn Manson? Is it 1997 or something? I’m not very hip seeing as I still crank the best of Bachman-Turner Overdrive on my Friday drives home from work, but I’m pretty sure Marilyn Manson doesn’t even listen to Marilyn Manson anymore. I think he teaches at Berkeley or some shit now.
I’ve been working a lot of overtime lately, so maybe me and Nick should go clothes shopping before school starts next month to straighten him out. Hit Hollister, The Gap—you know, really spruce the kid up. Maybe even buy some hair gel at one of those faggy fragrance stores. If he ever hopes to bang a chick like Suzie Collins who lives three houses down, he better wise up. That Collins girl will only be a sophomore this year, but she’s like, a hundred pounds soaking wet and has tits the size of Alaska. I bet dollars to doughnuts she gets a million offers to this year’s winter formal and ends up blowing some guy in the back seat of a Honda Civic, all whacked out on peach schnapps.
That guy needs to be my son. And if he could just ditch these loser bitches, buy a new wardrobe, and maybe use those free weights I got him for Christmas, he’ll have a fighting chance.
By Richard Magsen, Parent
Nick Magsen and Shrapnel Face: Not a Desirable Combination
Our son Nick is a good kid. He gets solid grades, stays out of trouble, and for a 16 year-old, is pretty damn honest and respectful to Linda and me. The only thing that bothers me, though, is that he keeps hanging out with all these weirdo girls that he meets through his high school’s theatre company.
It seems like my kid wouldn’t know a hottie if one kneeled in a mall parking lot to suck his still-developing cock.
Nick will be a junior this year, so he needs to start to take his reputation seriously. If he gets pegged as the chubby theatre kid who hangs out with fatties and brace-faces, he’s gonna be a bottom-feeder well through college.
Like this girl Christina he brought home last Saturday. This girl’s face looked like it took some heavy shrapnel at Normandy, and she was wearing, of all things, a slinky Marilyn Manson t-shirt. Marilyn Manson? Is it 1997 or something? I’m not very hip seeing as I still crank the best of Bachman-Turner Overdrive on my Friday drives home from work, but I’m pretty sure Marilyn Manson doesn’t even listen to Marilyn Manson anymore. I think he teaches at Berkeley or some shit now.
I’ve been working a lot of overtime lately, so maybe me and Nick should go clothes shopping before school starts next month to straighten him out. Hit Hollister, The Gap—you know, really spruce the kid up. Maybe even buy some hair gel at one of those faggy fragrance stores. If he ever hopes to bang a chick like Suzie Collins who lives three houses down, he better wise up. That Collins girl will only be a sophomore this year, but she’s like, a hundred pounds soaking wet and has tits the size of Alaska. I bet dollars to doughnuts she gets a million offers to this year’s winter formal and ends up blowing some guy in the back seat of a Honda Civic, all whacked out on peach schnapps.
That guy needs to be my son. And if he could just ditch these loser bitches, buy a new wardrobe, and maybe use those free weights I got him for Christmas, he’ll have a fighting chance.