Instead I watch shows like, Dr. G. Medical Examiner, True Crime with Aphrodite Jones, Drama in the ER, Southern Fried Justice, Intervention, The Smoking Gun, Scared Beyond Straight, Repo, Sponge Bob Square Pants.
That last one was a typo.
I like REAL TV. Not those fake reality shows like DWS, Idol, or the evening news.
I watch the real stuff.
Real nitty gritty life.
Last week I watched some teenage male wanna be thugs as they were taken to prison where the prisoners tried to intimidate, frighten, and generally scare the crap out of them. From the follow up data shown beside the picture of each wanna be thug at the end of the show, the teenage male wanna be thugs will soon be trying to frighten the next generation at the same prison.
Last night it was teenage female wanna be bad girls time for fright. They were treated to a day in life of a prisoner at California’s Chowchilla prison.
The male prisoners were like kindergarten cops compared to the female prisoners who were doing the scaring.
Had I been a female teenage wanna be thug at this prison, they would have succeeded in not only scaring the crap out of me, they would have scared the pee, some tears, my breakfast, thoughts of committing any crime, and my the combination to my shoe closet out of me. I would have freely confessed that I am in reality an unknown, useless slug.
These were some really bad ass, no hair, tattooed face, ‘I’m gonna scare your ass straight or else’ women.
They got right up in the wanna be thugs faces.
They screamed expletives deleted at them.
They told them they were gonna make them their b!+(he$.
They got them alone in the shower and backed them in to the walls.
They told them there would be no makeup, hairspray, or boys around.
They told them they would have to wear pants with elastic in them.
Elastic waist bands on their pants? Are you kidding me?
Oh the horror of it all.
That wanna be female thug who had just been threatened apologized for laughing. She apologized for smirking. She said she would apologize to her mother and never pitch a fit about hairspray again.
She had just had the virtual crapola scared right of herself.
Personally I find snakes, birds, heights and Bill O’Reilly much more frightening.
Elastic waist bands? Not so much.
If all parents knew about this deterrent they could save a million headaches and avoid countless arguments by waving a pair of pants with an elastic waistband in front of their children and threaten them with the new garment replacement right all parents possess.
Any and every piece of clothing with a waistband will be elasticized.
Oh the power!
Think about it.
“Is your room clean?” Snap. Snap. Snap.
”You’re dating who?” Snap. Snap. Snap.
“You want a tattoo?” Snap. Snap. Snap.
“You’re grades are bad for what reason.” Snap. Snap. Snap.
I can hear the elastic snapping now, and it’s not from the growth of my mid-section.
Adds a totally new dimension to the phrase ‘oh snap.’
From the life and mind of:
Wanda M. Argersinger
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