Monthly Archives: April 2009

The Kids….turns 120!

That’s right, in blog years The Kids Don’t Get It has, as of this post, turned 120 posts old and is proudly celebrating its 8,516th hit as of this entry. In human terms, I believe that The Kids….now has nuts and is wearing probably wearing a C-cup. Yes, both.

Anyway, to commemorate this historic event I thought it’d be nice to take a stroll down memory lane and re-up links to some of the most popular posts here on The Kids….as dictated kid-birthday-cakeby you, The Reader. And so, in no particular order, I present…………….

The Kids Don’t Get It Greatest Hits:

1. I always knew that this blog was the sh*t, and I like to think it started here, with the first-ever C.R.A.P. entry.

2. Access is everything: thanks to our hacker-y skills, we were able to read Angelina “Dog, the Baby Hunter” Jolie Twitter-transcripts from the Oscars. And it was hilarious.

3. In the market for new jeans? Great, just don’t buy these unless you’re curious about what it’s like to be a woman, or, a cartoon character.

4. Pissed off your sweetheart? In the market for horny flowers? Go to this ranch and ask for Rosemary. Or Georgia O’Keefe.

5. Affirmative Action in videogames. Zombie, get your hand out my pocket!

6. Want to curse til you’re blue in the face? Yeah, me too.

7. Remember that time in college when you hooked up with your roomie’s mom? Yeah, she does too–forever.

8.  The KKK wants you to buy their video game too.

9. The next time they do ‘Wife Swap’, I’m putting in a request to get a mom like this.

10. Coming through a wall near you: Joe Biden!

…and since it’s my blog, I’m doing a top-11 instead of 10. Smurf-it, I figure–who cares? And so, #11: Want to know what happened to that crazy ex of yours? She’s making an army to come after you.

Thanks for making this blog the #1 blog on with the name The Kids Don’t Get It. I’d say that I couldn’t have done it without you, but then that makes it sound like I’m not doing all the writing.

And please, by all means, spread this blog around!

The Kids

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Round and Round we go….

We’re OD’ing on American Idol now. Blame Twitter if you must, or, Danny Gokey, Prince of Darkness and Over-Done Singing.

Anyway, poor Lil’ Rounds. She’s my favorite contestant second only to Anoop though this is

Judges: We want MC Lyte, not Light, Lil.

Judges: We want MC Lyte, not Light, Lil.

largely attributed to the fact that her name makes me think of some of my favorite lil’s:

  • Lil’ Rascals
  • Lil’ Abner
  • The Littles
  • Lil’ Bow-Wow

But man, she’s getting a bum-rap on American Idol. Clearly bored with having to enterain the aspirations of mediocrely-talented baristas, single mothers and heroin trannies, the AI judges always find someone to hone-in on with their collectively brutal assessments and so now, the lucky beneficiary is Lil Rounds.

First of all, these judges lack any real creative credibility:

  • one sang with a cat that went by the name of “Skat”. You know what another for “skat”
    Skat checks under the hood to see what makes Paula run.

    Skat checks under the hood to see what makes Paula run.

    is? Shit. Meaning, in the case of Paula and “Skat”, it’s more “birds of a feather” than “oppos(h)ites attract”

  • one was the black guitarist for a rock band. Whereas I don’t enjoy being a black guitarist in Rock Band.
  • and one is Kara, who has industry cred for writing songs includes songs for Jim Jones, David Archuleta, Nick Lachey and Ashlee Simpson

And then there’s Simon, a man that seems to be perpetually suffering from blue balls.

Anyway, every week the judges comments/suggestions for her roughly equate to the same thing: you are black, therefore sing songs from someone black.

At first it was somewhat discreet:

“You’ve got a great voice Lil–one of the best. But that song wasn’t what we’re looking for from you. I see you and I want to hear some Aretha…some Tina Turner….Mary J. Blige, you know?”

Then it got a bit closer:

“Great voice, you look great, but dog, dog, come on; it’s still not quite what we’re lookin’ for from you. I’m thinkin’ like, I don’t, something with some soul to it you know? Something with a

Play Free-Lil!

Play Free-Lil!

bit more color in it…..say, you ever seen ‘New Jack City‘? Just try and go somewhere darker, dog.”

And closer still:

“….in this competition, you’ve got to show that you’re unique, Lil. That’s what we’re looking for. I don’t think you’ve got figured that out yet, have you? And when I say ‘unique’ I mean finding some Beyonce’ CDs, maybe I don’t know, go to the R&B section at a local record shop one Saturday at the mall, and then I’d suggest getting some Apple-Bottom jeans, perhaps one of those Roca-Wear suit and take yourself to a KFC, talk to some peeps there–’cause I know that’s how you roll, right?–I really hope you’re back next week.”

And then finally (lights go up after Lil sings):

“I am going to say the following words to you: Affirmative Action. Good Times. Al Sharpton. Million Man March. Medea. Aunt Jemima. Denise Huxtable. Waiting to Exhale. Does this help now? No? Ok (judges disappear under the table for a moment, then reappear) Lil, I want you to look at all four judges. We are in black face. It was Paula’s idea. Together, right now, on this stage, we are blacker than you. How does that make you feel? Now take that pain and sing “My Neck, My Back” –only like Mahalia Jackson would.”

What’s a sistah to do? Kara berates Lil with words like “girlfriend” and “girl” and “workin’ it out”–words that can be interchangablly used with Adam Lambert–as a way of connecting with

Lil Rounds finishes her rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings"

Lil Rounds finishes her rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings"


She gives the lamest advice too: “I wasn’t really feeling it tonight, boo. I just look at you and, I don’t know, I want to hear black. It just wasn’t black enough for me. Ya feel me? Like not Anoop-black–that’s brown-black. I mean black-black. Can you sing black-black? Your back tells me you’re black so get with the black. Blackie. I love you. God I am so high. Kris Allen why won’t you make love to me?” (starts crying, streaking her black-face)

When Lil Rounds is finally excused from the show (which, trust me, the judges telegraph who they want in the end–Allison and Adam I think, and really, she shouldn’t win anyway), I’m hoping that she does the talk show circuit and “Skat-Cats” on all the judges.

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It’s A Wrap

The Kids Don’t Get It just survived its first attempt at Twitter-ing/live-blogging American Idol. You can view the grisly results of an hour’s worth of spontaneous comments here.

Let me know what you think–unless you didn’t like it, in which case, Smurf you.

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The Kids Presents: The Kids!

Feeling down because you’re a loser and you don’t have any friends?

No one replying to your “Magic the Gathering” play date requests tonight?american-idol

Craigslist not getting you enough “Casual Encounters”?

You’re in luck!

Tonight The Kids…will be doing a live-bloggging of tonight’s episode of American Idol (check your Cable Guide/On Demand listings).

Want to join in on the fun? Or merely watch as I crash and burn trying to Twitter amusing comments?

Sure you do! So come on by at:

See you in the Twitter-verse!

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Monster’s Balls

As most of you are probably unaware the NBA Playoffs started this past weekend. As a matter of fact I think only me, David Stern and about 100 player posses care that it’s the playoffs.

Basketball will forever be more entertaining on a game-to-game basis than baseball. Basketball? Constant movement, player emotion, relentless running and scoring, and at least 2 teabag dunks a night.

Baseball? It’s a sport where you can sit, drink a beer, eat a hot dog, a pretzel, chat with your buddies and occasionally look at the score when the crowd goes wild.

And that’s just the players.

Anyway, one of the thrilling things about the NBA playoffs is the high-stakes drama involved in the finishes of close, dramatic games, like say last night’s Bulls-Celtics game where Ray Allen hits the game-winner.

What’s my favorite thing about moments like this though, are the celebrations after the big play. In football, when someone makes a big play, like say they get a huge 1st down or score a touchdown, they do fun celebratory things like endzone dances and stabbing people (hi Ray Lewis!).

In baseball when they make a big out or score the game-winning homerun/single, once they labor around the bases with the aid of an oxygen tank, they are showered with junk food and steroids by their teammates. During post-game interviews, you’ll usually see the players chasing each other in the background with bottles of champagne, and HGH syringes. Ah, America’s Past-time.

But in basketball, thanks to Sam “Earth Girls Are Easy” Cassell, they have the Big Balls Dance,

Sam Cassell, Founding Father of the BBD

Sam Cassell, Founding Father of the BBD

my favoritest celebration for doing something awesome.

The Big Balls Dance (BBD), is done after hitting a clutch jumper to win or sometimes even tie the game. After the shot, the player strides down the court in an elaborate duck-like waddle while cradling two extremely large imaginary testicles in both their hands down near their knees.

It’s awesome, vulgar, ridiculous and hilarious all at once. And since most networks aren’t savvy enough to get what the player is doing (they probably think it’s some “hip-hop dance”) and because NBA games are actually, you know, exciting, you’re garaunteed to see it a couple of times during the season.

So I was thinking; who else deserves a BBD lately? Let’s take a look:

  • Ms. California: After fielding a question about same-sex marriage from openly-gay and nauseatingly obnoxious pageant judge Perez Hilton, she said, “No offense to anyone, but I think a marriage is between a man and a woman”. I shudder to think what a similar
    "God Bless America--and Straight People!"

    "God Bless America--and Straight People!"

    response from her would’ve been like during the Jim Crow Era. Still, BBD Ms. California: on pageantry’s biggest stage and with the crown on the line (she was one of the final 5), you pulled off a monster play. I don’t agree with you, but you ma’am deserve a BBD.

  • Simon Cowell: Who deserves to do the BBD every week, really, but especially lately when he BBD’ed all over American Idol’s first-ever blind contestant. I imagine Cowell does similar takedowns at orphanages (“I really think that if you really wanted a mummy and daddy, you’d have one already”) and burn victim wards (“I’ve seen better skin on KFC chicken, really.”).
  • Vin Diesel: After only recieving scripts lately for the titular role in a live-action “Joe Camel: the Camel, the Myth, the Cancer” and an offer to play all three Beagle Boys in a live-action Duck Tales movie, Vin Diesel held out before someone was drunk and dead-hooker-blackmailed enough to make another sequel to ‘The Fast and the Furious’. And it made gobs of money it’s opening weekend ($70 million), putting Vin Diesel back on the map of relevancy and sparing him from appearing on VH1’s Dr. Drew’s Heroin Re-hab AdventureClinic. That alone deserves a BBD.
  • R. Kelly: A little old, sure, but it still amazes me that someone that was on trial for underage-Golden-showering can still make records and release a 22-chapter LSD-inspired series that is Trapped in the Closet which had everything from 3-somes, to midgets, to cross-dressers to gay lovers and I think the blind guy from American Idol. And people bought and watched and supported him over the years. Amazing. Put the key in the ignition, Kells, and do your BBD.

I’d also like to suggest times for the Average Joe/Jane to do their own BBD’s. Here’s some opportunities to incorporate them into your everyday life:

  • Hooked up with a hot guy or girl? The following morning, as they’re getting dressed, BBD around the bed. It’s playoffs time!
  • Got a great sale/find on something out shopping? Once you’ve paid for the item, BBD your way to the car. I suggest dangling the sales items’ bag from your teeth so your hands are free.
  • Quitting a job in the middle of a staff meeting. Stand up, high-5 others and BBD first around your boss’ chair and then as security escorts you out. It will look like a rap-video. Yell, “who’s coming with me?!” a la Jerry Maguire.

So maybe now you’ll tune-in to the NBA Playoffs.

The NBA: Where BBD Happens.

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Boom! Boom! Pow!: A B.E.P.s story

Since I enjoy 20 weekly doses of Real World/Road Rules: Hepatitis Outbreak XX episodes as part of MTV, VH1 and BET’s attempt to out-do each other on Reality Shows That You Could Get You Fired For Talking About Them At Work, I’m not aware of most music videos anymore.

Despite that, I still have managed to hear that Best Buy’s favorite musical act, The Black Eyed Peas, have a new song.bep

The song’s name?

“Boom Boom Pow”.

I repeat: “Boom Boom Pow”.

I don’t know about you, but I see that and think of the following things immediately:

1. 1960’s Batman punches/graphic effects

2. little kid crashing Tonka trucks into each other

3. frat boy describing his one-night stand with a frosh

4. Chris Brown

Not exactly great company, but then, when it comes to The Black Eyes on Hip-Hop The Black Eyed Peas, I rarely think of the term “great” unless it’s “Man, it’s great to see Fergie’s sex re-assignment is almost complete”.

Can you imagine the conversation that went into creating that song? Looks like my money’s run out pretending to be a politically-minded ass-hat. Time to get back to doin’ what the B.E.P.s do best–sellin’ out as a group!

Fergie: No problem there for me; my last album sold out everywhere! (laughs hi-5’s Mexican guy in group)



Taboo (Mexican guy): Ay yi yi, Fergie, that was a good one. Boom! (hi-5’s Fergie, confused by how much larger her hands are than his)

(Philipino guy, who I think does not speak English): (nervously watches others laughing around the room): Hee hee, ‘boom’…..’Boom! Boom!’ (looks for validation from others) Wait a sec–Stitch is onto something. We just got our next song, y’all. Let’s start writing!

Fergie: I’ll get my notepad! (grabs crystal meth, foams at mouth, sleeps)

*End scene*

This song title only further convinces me that when it comes to the B.E.P.s, this is what it takes to be a recording industry star:

  1. dress like a homeless break-dancer
  2. have an appearance best described as a “bitter beer face”



  3. get 1 Lilo & Stich-looking Philipino guy, 1 vampire-looking Mexican, 1 guy who looks like The Soloist, and 1 Fergie
  4. pee self on stage as much as possible*

Now, to be fair, I went through a “B.E.P.s-with-Fergie” period. It was a period not as embarrassing as a girl’s first period and less ridiculous than the period’s found in’s name.

It was a period marked by enjoying songs with the words “mama”, “shutup” and “funk”.

It was a period marked by making outlandish statements like the following:

  • “Let’s get it started–in here!” whenever I walked into a restaurant, meeting, funeral or bedroom.
  • thinking to myself, “I want ‘Where is the Love?’ played at my wedding
  • “This heroin is great; Fergie is so Smurf-ing hot. Huh? That’s the Mexican dude? Fuggit. Let’s get it started–in here!”

I’m not phunking with you; it was tragic.

But I’ve since removed their “United Colors of Bennetton-meets-Kidz Songs” sound toxins from my body, iPod and memory.

But I have a feeling that somehow, some way, Boom Boom Pow will make its way to my head, like ringworm.



It’s a space already unfortunately occupied by Flo.rida’s “Round Round” song; I wish both would go round and round in the toilet.

*I’m charitably leaving off’s desperation-grab for attention a la his “Obama Video” since I know a great many of you found that celebrity-self-congratulating video “inspirational”, “cool” and a “great chance to see Scarlett Johannsen’s boobs again”. If you prefer your manipulation in viral internet form, so be it. You’re welcome.

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Now Playing Near You

It’s the weekend! It’s the weekend! And the weather here on the East Coast is going to be great–sunny, bright and warm. You know what that means?

People will be in the movie theatres.

You want to know why Americans are so Klump-y? Because in the summer, when most others are playing outside, traveling, pirating ships–whatever, enjoying life–where are we?

Inside a communal living room watching Fast and the Furious 8: Darth Vader meets Shrek.

And the night is either opened or ended with a trip to Red Lobster-bee’s Garden.

We thick, yo.

So anyway, I thought that I’d meet you all 1/2-way by reviewing the movies you’re probably seeing, going to see, and maybe saw. Just short, quick blurbs.

Full Disclosure Before We Proceed: the following movies are all films that I will not, would not and wouldn’t dream of seeing. Ever. At all. As a matter of fact, if someone said, “see this movie; your mother’s life depends on it” I would say, “hand me the pistol and I’ll shoot her myself–for $5 I can pay a woman-of-the-night to let me call her  ‘mom’, I cannot get 90mins of my life back”.

1. Fast and the Furious: Reunion Time! Years ago, when I first saw Vin Diesel, I thought, “it’s a damn shame someone shaved this monkey and made it learn people-words”. My opinion has

Stop monkeying around you two and make a movie!

Stop monkeying around you two and make a movie!

not changed. There is no apparatus that you can put Vin Diesel behind to make him entertaining: cars, planes, time machines, George Foreman grills, Jennifer Lopez–nothing makes Vin Diesel cool. Meanwhile, Paul Walker wonders if he’d have a better career if he changed his name to “Paul Wall” and Jordana Brewster keeps hoping people with think she’s ‘Punky Brewster’.

2. Hannah Montana: The Movie: A movie in which Miley Cyrus (whose name sounds like a fast-spreading virus, as in “there’s a virulent strain of Miley Cyrus causing explosive diarrhea, heart palpitations and werewolf transformation all over NYC”) perfects the formula of appealing to every American white girl demographic: sometimes she’s blonde, sometimes she’s brunette–I think it depends on which Jonas Bros she’s about to sleep with. Hannah Montana is sort of like Jem meets Prussian Blue. There’s a good bet that the movie’s cast will be as white as

"Don't shoot til you see the whites of their sombreros! USA! USA!"

"Don't shoot til you see the whites of their sombreros! USA! USA!"

a bridal store–and just as virginal with it’s ‘G’ rating. The ‘G’ stands for ‘gonorhea’ which is what you get when you watch, look at, or touch Miley Cyrus. Ask the Jonas Bros.

3. Knowing: It’s a movie starring Nicholas Cage. He plays a professor who finds a formula that predicts the future. Hey, I’m no math prof, but I’ve got a future-predicting formula too: Nicholas Cage + movie about anything that allows Nicholas Cage to act= Worse Movie Released Since Last Nicholas Cage Film. That’s all the ‘knowing’ you need.

4. Monsters vs Aliens: In which Miley Cyrus plays a sometimes-curly haired, sometimes pony-tailed who gets mistakenly placed into Minuteman service at the Texas border for her Spring Break Internship. While there, she learns growing up’s not easy, finds true love with Javon, the Mexican boy her age trying to cross into the states, and the courage to stand up for what’s right–by shooting Javon. In 3-D. By Dreamworks.

5. Observe and Report: A movie where Seth Rogen plays a skinny dickhead slacker instead of a fat one. We’re now at 14mins, 55secs of the “Seth Rogen Experience”.

6. I Love You, Man: Paul Rudd, a funnier graduate of the Judd Apatow School For White Guys Who Refuse to Age stars in a movie that gives Andy Samberg another chance to ‘be funny’ by playing a gay person. But Quincy Jones’ hot daughter is in it. This makes me happy, but probably crushes Quincy.

7. A Haunting in Connecticut: Aka “When Gentrification Goes Really, Really Bad”. I never understand why these families don’t do their HW on their real estate agent…or the neighborhood….or the previous owners. “Spacious 5-bedroom house in barren remote neighborhood looking for an unassuming white family unafraid of poltergeist and orgy-hungry ghouls. Pure souls only need apply. No credit check required.”


8. Obsessed: Beyonce’ wears a bad wig and tries this acting thing a bit harder. This time with Ali Larter and one of the guys from The Wire. All three of these people will regret this decision.

"I told you, I don't know anyone named 'Kelly Rowland'."

"I told you, I don't know anyone named 'Kelly Rowland'."

We are now 1 movie closer to Beyonce’ remaking B.A.P.S.

9. 17 Again: A night with R. Kelly? No. It’s Matthew Perry going from making $1 million/episode playing Chandler Bing to being the handler for Zac Effron’s bling.

10. Crank That High Voltage: It’s a Souljah Boy remix! Or, “Daily Things You Hear On Death Row”. Jason Statham continues to get paychecks making the same movie 14,000 different ways.  Vin Diesel should talk to him.

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