Words From a Grossly Underqualified Source

Not being a parent myself I have no idea how they think when it comes to the safety of their children, but based on my observation as a lifeguard I can conclude that this is one thought running through the mind of many parents:

I want my child to drown.

I really cannot think of any other explanation why parents are so incredibly negligent at swimming pools. Consider this: you are a parent and you know that your child is 3 feet tall, cannot swim, and is currently splashing about in a pool where the maximum depth is 4-5feet. Why would you let this child play alone? I’m going to throw down some math for you. 5 feet - 3 feet = your dead child. Here’s some more complicated math, but I’m sure that you can keep up. Your child + a swimming pool - swimming skills - you = your dead child. I have pulled drowning children out of the water and tried to reunite them with their parents only to find that said parent is not only out of the swimming pool (leaving their flopping fish of a child to drown), they are hundreds of yards away, asleep in their lounge chair. HOW IS THAT GOOD PARENTING?!

It’s not just blatant negligence on the part of the parents either. Sometimes it is downright stupidity. At the pool where I guard we have two water slides that you must be at least 4 feet tall AND a strong swimmer to ride. I have seen adults get pulled out by lifeguards, the current is that strong. Parents, however, do not seem to see the problem in arguing that their 3 foot tall non swimmer should be permitted to ride the slides. The words SAFETY HAZARD means nothing to these people. These particular parents would rather their child have fun and wind up face down dead in the swimming pool then make them follow the rules and keep them safe.

Now why is it that parents want their children to die? In the animal kingdom some animals, such as sharks, will eat their young if they do not swim away fast enough. Do humans feel the same predatory feelings toward their children? How can you live with yourself if your child drowns while you were catching up on your third re-reading of Eclipse on the poolside? (Not a hypothetical situation, I’ve seen it happen). I DESPISE reading news stories about children who have drowned with a lifeguard on duty where the lifeguard catches all the blame. Yes, as a professional rescuer it is the lifeguard’s job to be able to guard lives and respond in an emergency, but isn’t it the parents’ job as a professional parent to ensure that their child does not drown in the first place? If I had my way, every American (at least) would have to learn how to swim, and they would need to pass these skills along to their young. Otherwise, no kids for you! (I also think that once you get knocked up you should have to take a parenting class, but that is a rant for another day).

In short: watch your goddamn rugrats at the pool. I know that realistically you probably do not want your children to end up swollen and blue at the bottom of your neighborhood pool, but that’s sure as hell how it seems from up in the lifeguard chair.

Sex is awesome. There’s no way to deny that, but some people are incredibly and undeniably stupid when it comes to sex. I just recently found out that my friend A lost her V card this week and “did it” without a condom or the big BC pill. My other friend J hooked up with her ex and her best guy friend without a condom (though she did have BC protection. In a world where every issue of Cosmo, or any other women’s magazine for that matter, has at least one article or advice column question devoted to the risks of condomless sex and unsafe sexual practices in general, both of these otherwise intelligent women couldn’t be bothered to wrap it before they tapped it.

WHY?!?!

Yes, I have had the gross misfortune of an unprotected sexual slip (in my defense, I was very drunk and it just kind of happened), but I did not engage in the subsequent stupid thought process that A did after she popped her 20 year old cherry. This thought process is named (by me) as the Women’s Delusional Tango. These women not only fail to practice safe sex, they dance around the realization that it was a BAD IDEA. Typical thought processes include:
“He pulled out before he came”
“I haven’t gotten pregnant yet so I’m pretty sure I’m infertile”
“My period isn’t for weeks, so there’s no way I could be pregnant”
On one occasion this yummy quote was offered up as a defense: “Well my gut says I’m not going to get knocked up, so I don’t think I have to worry” (Let’s not forget to mention that this particular woman’s gut also told her that taking her douchebag ex who rode into her vag bareback back into her life was a smart idea)

This is what you’re first thought should be: “Oh shit, I just engaged in unprotected sex. The moment a pharmacy opens I will be purchasing a morning after pill to stop a potential baby from growing in my stupid (potentially diseased, since you went in without protection) belly.”

This beautiful innovation in sexual technology is $40 to $50 at most CVS Pharmacies and Wal Mart medicine counters. Too pricey for you, you classy classy unsafe fucking machine? Just think about how much money it will cost to bring your unwanted spawn into the world in a pool of screaming bloody mess and fecal matter (yes ladies, you shit yourself when you push out an 8 pound eating and crying infant). I’m going to bet that thousands of dollars is really going to sting when you look back on the moment you ”trusted your gut” and decided 40 bucks was too much for your Vera Bradley wallet to bear.

WOMEN OF THE WORLD! YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL! IF YOU HAVE UNPROTECTED SEX YOU CAN GET PREGNANT! IF YOUR NEANDERTHAL BOYFRIEND OR FUCK BUDDY PULLS OUT, YOU CAN STILL GET PREGNANT!

In the lovely case of one of my high school chums T, unprotected sex leads to babies. BABIES! And really, if you are young and attractive enough for someone to want to have sex with you, you are not at the point in your life where you need a smelly pooping machine to rob you of your figure and your looks so you can sacrifice all your needs for theirs. You have PLENTY of time for that when you’re sliding toward 35.

Final words: Equip it before you dip it, saran it before you cram it, cover your stump before you hump and all that classy shit. You’re classy right?  

I do not understand girls.

This is a statement issued by many a confused guy who has somehow managed to dimwittedly provoke a rage attack from a (probably) pre-menstrual female (one such sterotypical reason: checking out the great butt on the waitress who is clearing your table while you’re on a date). These guys cannot understand why their guy-like behavior makes these girls react as if you had just burned their entire wardrobe or beat them in the face with a pointy Nine West stilletto. I hate to break it to you guys, but girls are needlessly complicated. Don’t worry, though, you are not alone.

The other girls don’t all understand them either.

Girls do silly, silly and sometimes downright stupid things. Unfortunately for guys, these things mostly involve you. They will ask to paint your toenails (or fingernails in the case of some unlucky guys) and then pout or fly into a (again probably) menstrual like rage. (In case you have not noticed, I believe in PMS. Do not believe women when they tell you this does not exist. It is alive and well). Girls will obsessively stalk your Facebooks and quiz you on every girl who writes on your wall. Girls will then tell you which girls they approve of and which ones you must remove from your own circle of friends (but woe to you if you dislike one of their friends).

It doesn’t directly involve guys either. Many of the stupid girl behaviors involving guys are what they do when there are no guys in earshot. Girls make excuses for the wrongs guys have done them CONSTANTLY. He cheated on you? He’s different now, he changed, he loves me blah blah blah (personally as a cheater I can tell you that the cheating habit is a hard one to break, but more on that later). He dumped you? Stood you up for a big date? Begged out on a family party for no real good reason? Girls will be livid with girly pink rage until the guy comes back with his big sorry eyes and a comforting hug and girls are all too willing to fall back in their arms.

After spending much of my life having male friends, I have just recently met several great girls who have become part of that secret inner-girl sanctum I’ve been searching for since elementary school…or so I thought. From the outside, a group of girls looks like a pink perfumed paradise full of laughter and whispered giggling secrets and, in the minds of some guys, practicing french kissing and having topless pillow fights in an Animal House sorority type style. Do not be fooled; it is not all sunshine and roses in this girly wonderland. The one thing I have learned in the last year of joining this secret society is this: I am not a real girl.

Girls lie to each other. CONSTANTLY. “Does this dress make me look fat?” What does it matter who you ask? No one will tell you the truth. “Do you think he’s going to call?” Girls know that he won’t, but they will reassure you anyway. “I really like him, should I have slept with him already? Why hasn’t he called?” He’s not going to, but girls will boldly declare that he really does like you but (insert excuse here). This is one of the worst things about girls. Why don’t they tell the truth?

One of my ultimate pet peeves is the possessiveness of girls. If they liked a guy once upon a time, he is now off limits for every other girl in their secret sanctum. Did they date him? No. Did they sleep with him? No. Yet there is still this stamp of possession. Then YOU get yelled at or shunned when the guy asks you out instead. How is it my fault that he likes me better than you?? You are then faced with the decision of doing things that make you happy and doing things that make them happy. Maybe some girls will sacrifice their own happiness for that of their friends, but not me.

Example case: Girl Friend X likes Boy Y. X and Y engage in some light flirting but nothing comes of it and soon after, X finds himself a girlfriend G. When G and Y break up, Y comes to find me, asking me on a date. He does not go back to X. Now am I a bad girl and friend for accepting? How will this hurt X? Should I really care? I usually get screwed and X will hate me for being more Y’s type, but I get my kicks out of it anyway.

So as for me. I do not care if you check out the waitress’ butt as long as I’m the only one you go home with. I don’t care what girls you talk to as long as you are not stepping out. I do not care if you date a guy I liked once upon a time, as longs as you’re not banging my boyfriend. I think that many of these typically girly issues stem from the innate insecurity of most girls; a trait that I do not posess.

So my professional recommendation for the world of girldom: Grow up. Take life by the balls. You are mostly good people and having confidence in that is a good thing. Confidence=fewer insecure girly rages. Suppress that insecurity by discovering your many layers of awesomeness. If a guy wrongs you, you don’t need him. There are SO many other fish in the sea. And don’t tell me who I can date, cause I will spit in your girly made-up face.