Mainly the Blumpkins

I have a question so I might as well ask it. Forewarning: this question will end in a period and not in the traditional question mark, but do not mistake it for a declaration, because it is really a question in disguise as a declaration, which means it is really just a question. It will also be written in all caps to suggest a strong sense of urgency and pissed-offness, and if you were just offended that I said the P-word, you might as well stop reading now because my question will in fact drop the F-bomb. Now that we've cleared that up, this is what I need to know:

WHAT THE FUCK IS OUR WORLD COMING TO.

I don't even know where to start, really. Wait. Yes I do. Blumpkins.

Blumpkin. Rhymes with pumpkin. I love pumpkins. I wish that this term I learned just 6 days ago had something to do with pumpkins. Because I love pumpkins. Pumpkins are so great. They're just pumpkins. They don't try to be anything else BUT pumpkins. Really I'm just trying to say "pumpkins" as much as I can to keep my mind from picturing a blumpkin. Because a blumpkin,my friends, has nothing to do with any pumpkins of any sorts.

I'm about to explain this, because it's just not possible that I am the only person out there who had not known that this specific type of action, an action that I had not even known existed, nonetheless practiced, had been been given its own personal term. If Webster thought "bootylicious" was definition-worthy, then blumpkin better sure as hell be. On a different note, if I AM the only person who had never heard this word until 6 days ago, THEN THANKS A LOT EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD FOR CLUING ME IN ON THE FACT THAT SIMPLY TAKING A SHIT ALONE ON THE TOILET HAS BECOME A THING OF THE PAST.

Nowadays, when a guy sits down to take a shit, he gets his dick sucked while he's doing it. And THAT, my friends and random 90-year-old woman who could possibly be reading this, is a blumpkin.

Two days after regretting ever asking, "What's a blumpkin?", I'm still in denial. It's just not possible. There's no way a girl would ever degrade herself that much. There's no way a guy would be horny while he's releasing feces into a bowl of water. There's no way that among the key words, "toilet," "excrement," and, "oral sex," someone decided that the perfect word for this would be B-LUMP-KIN. Blue pumpkin? Lumps on your cousin? Whose job is it to name intensely disturbing modern-age sexual acts and how do I get hired? But after reassuring myself that a blumpkin could not possibly be toilet-head, but maybe some kind of Harry Potter beverage, instead...I turned on my radio.

"I GOT SHIT FOR BRAINS LIKE A BLUMPKIN!"

Wait, what was that?

"LIKE A BLUMPKIN!"

A what?

"A BLUMPKIN!"

What-kin?

"BLUMPKIN!"

Alas, I had heard correctly. Not only are blumpkins legit, but apparently play a large role in our pop culture, also. Perhaps the iPad progressed us well into the future at hand, but I don't think that makes up for the billions of years we just erased in tracing back to the nut-busting-methods of cavemen.

"OOH OOH AH AHHHHHH!"

2010 Translation: "Be my barbarian, baby. I shit. You suck."

I like to think that all parents are old-fashioned, ridiculously reluctant to accepting change, and ignorant of the ways in which social norms have changed from when they were our age. I like to "know" that if I ever become a parent, I am going to be open to whatever my kids claim is normal for people their age to do, because mine sure as hell don't believe me. However, I've been pondering this recently, and these "norms" are steadily growing worse and worse, which leads me to believe that if I ever do became someone's mother, and I'm going to stick with my "modern mother" fantasy, this is what it is going to be like:

"Mom! Can I go over to Mr. Mac's house?"

"Mr. Mac? Your History teacher?"

"Yeah!"

"What? Why? When I was your age, it was inappropriate to go over to a male teacher's house, especially if he invited you. That was just unheard of."

"No, no, no! He's having our entire class over to his house tonight!"

"Oh? Well what for?"

"To shoot up heroin!"

"EXCUSE ME."

"And then have a giant orgy!"

"AN ORGY?"

"Yeah! He said we're all gonna get really fucked up, screw each other, then put the pictures on facebook!"

"NO YOU CANNOT GO HAVE SEX WITH YOUR 60-YEAR-OLD TEACHER AND THEN CATCH COUNTLESS STD'S FROM YOUR ENTIRE CLASS AND SHOOT UP HEROIN AND THEN PUBLICLY PUBLISH PICTURES FOR GRANDMA TO SEE."

"But Mommmmmm...every other kid's parents are letting them go! It's what teenagers do now."

"Oh. Silly me. I'm sorry, honey, this is all just so new to me. Back in my day, we thought that performing oral sex on a male while he emptied his bowels was risque!"

"HAHAHA that is SOOOOOO not a big deal! I give blumpkins every day! And the other day I got eaten out while I was taking a piss!"

"Ah, you'll have to forgive your old mother. I'm just not as cool as my daughter anymore. Nonetheless, make sure to say "thank you" to Mr. Mac for his heroin. And for his penis."

"Oh, of course I will. Thanks, Mom! You're awesome!"

"I know, sweetie."

Oh how I am looking forward to that day.

Aside from blumpkins, I heard the other day on the radio that Rihanna said she wrote "Rude Boy" for her boyfriend. I did not even know Rihanna had a boyfriend, but I can imagine what he thought when she told him she wrote a song about him.

"I wrote a song about you today, baby."

"Really? You are the best. What is it called? "Love of My Life?" "Soulmate?" "You're The Only One I Could Ever Truly Be Happy With Because You're So Fucking Awesome?" "

"Close. It's called "Rude Boy." "

"Rude Boy?"

"Want me to sing it to you?"

"Of course, baby."

"Come here, rude boy, boy, can you get it up? Come here, rude boy, boy, is you big enough?"

Am I the only one who would be incredibly offended if this was the chorus to the song the person I was dating wrote about me?

"Natasha, my love, I wrote a song about you today."

"Sing it to me!"

"Alright, sugar-pie-honey-bunch-pumpkin-poo, this is my song about our undying, ever-lasting, never-ending love:

"Ay Bitch, suck my dick, right from beneath

Quit using dem teeth

It hurts like hell

Hey what's that smell?"

It's basically the same thing. And the sad thing is, that song would make millions if it were put on the radio right now. The fact that this is the kind of shit that the majority of Americans can relate to is the same kinda shit that makes me want to move to Australia and shoot blow guns with the Aboriginies, instead. Though I'm sure they give blumpkins, too.

On top of all that, I read an article about how spanking apparently is not a beneficial way to punish your children. Okay, okay...I'm seeing some hope now for our future...we're actually realizing that beating children may not be the best way to let them know that crying in public is not acceptable...okay, okay this is good...

until I read the comments that people responded to the article with.

One person took the liberty to inform us that while she and her siblings got "whoopings from Daddy," her cousins were punished with time-outs and getting grounded. Then she goes on to conclude that the "Daddy whoopings" are what led her and her siblings to become very successful, and the reason that her cousins have been "in and out of prison" and "addicted to drugs" is because they had to stay home for a week when they did something wrong instead of getting their ass repeatedly touched. She ended it with "Daddy made the right choices." Wow! I really respect your opinion when you're well into your 30's and still call your father 'Daddy!' You sick freak.

THEN, someone else decided to bring the Bible into it.

Do not withhold correction from a child,
For if you beat him with a rod, he will not die.
You shall beat him with a rod,
And deliver his soul from hell. --- Proverbs 23:13-14

WHAT THE HELL. I guess I would have known that physically abusing children had been condoned by Da Lawd if I had ever read the Bible, but since I have not, this came as quite a shock. However, I do know that "religion and politics" are the two things never to talk about, so I am going to stop there, and end with my first response of WHAT THE HELL.

This same woman ended her comment with "My parents love me good." Again, WOW. I am definitely going to agree with whatever point you make now that I know you dropped out of the third grade.

I'm not saying that I hate my generation, or that I hate my country, or that I hate a good spanking. All I'm saying is that some things need to be left usaid. Unsung. And undone. Mainly the blumpkins.