Note to breeders:

[Brian Saville]

I don't give a flying fuck about your children. I don't care who they are, where they are, how old they are, or what they are doing. Want me to see pictures of your kids or grandkids? Sure, but hold on while I turn on the paper shredder.

What's that? You're selling cookies/candy/raffles/ornaments/prizes/trinkets so little Johnny and Sarah Jane can waste an afternoon at Disneyland? Sure I'll take some candy -- so long as I can smash it in your motherfucking face and retrieve it from your crusty rectum. This is an office where I do important work -- not a goddamn bazaar to peddle the wares of your snotnosed offspring.

I don't care how smart you think your kids are. No, your children aren't geniuses. You'll be lucky if your brats move out of your hovel at age 30 -- after they've climbed the ladder to success making change at a gas station.

You love your children? Good -- tell it to someone who gives a shit.

Keep your motherfucking brats out of movie theaters and restaurants. Seriously, no one wants the living incarnation of your seed disturbing our shows and meals, spreading viruses and bacteria with every goddamn thing they touch. You need a night out? Fine -- hire someone else's fucking brat to watch yours, you cheap piece of filth.

No, I don't want to pay more in taxes to send your pathetic pieces of dopeshit to school. Oh, you want "more resources"? Better "facilities"? Better student-teacher "ratios"? Well la-de-fucking-da: why don't you FUCKING PAY FOR IT. If you're not catching my drift, let me make it clear: I don't want to throw my money away educating your third-rate douchebag of a kid so he or she can wash my car on the weekend. You gave birth to it, you pay for it.

Your children are our future? Fuck the future, fuck your kids, and fuck you.

 

[missmanners]

I don't give a flying fuck about your children. I don't care who they are, where they are, how old they are, or what they are doing. Want me to see pictures of your kids or grandkids? Sure, but hold on while I turn on the paper shredder.

What's that? You're selling cookies/candy/raffles/ornaments/prizes/trinkets so little Johnny and Sarah Jane can waste an afternoon at Disneyland? Sure I'll take some candy -- so long as I can smash it in your motherfucking face and retrieve it from your crusty rectum. This is an office where I do important work -- not a goddamn bazaar to peddle the wares of your snotnosed offspring.

I don't care how smart you think your kids are. No, your children aren't geniuses. You'll be lucky if your brats move out of your hovel at age 30 -- after they've climbed the ladder to success making change at a gas station.

You love your children? Good -- tell it to someone who gives a shit.

Keep your motherfucking brats out of movie theaters and restaurants. Seriously, no one wants the living incarnation of your seed disturbing our shows and meals, spreading viruses and bacteria with every goddamn thing they touch. You need a night out? Fine -- hire someone else's fucking brat to watch yours, you cheap piece of filth.

No, I don't want to pay more in taxes to send your pathetic pieces of dopeshit to school. Oh, you want "more resources"? Better "facilities"? Better student-teacher "ratios"? Well la-de-fucking-da: why don't you FUCKING PAY FOR IT. If you're not catching my drift, let me make it clear: I don't want to throw my money away educating your third-rate douchebag of a kid so he or she can wash my car on the weekend. You gave birth to it, you pay for it.

Your children are our future? Fuck the future, fuck your kids, and fuck you.

So, should I wear the gold pendant or the pearls with that blue sweater, gosh I just cant decide.


mm

 

[Elnidfse]

Lol he copy pasta'd. Its too long, didn't read. Nice attempted work though, Tard. You have given me a moderate amount of humor. If I was more convinced that your posts weren't totally incompetent, taking into consideration, your nature, I would probably read them...

 

[schrodinger_hated_cats]

I hate the breeder pigs. There's at least one in every office. They're the ones who think they deserve a medal for doing what mammals have been doing since the beginning of time. They take 6 weeks off of an office job to do what slave women did in the cotton fields centuries ago. And when they finally drop the little fuck fruit, they invariably bring the damn thing into the office to show it off. Naturally, every other breeder has to stop doing any real work that they were doing and ooh and ahh over something that looks like an alien.

Babies are NOT cute. They look like Uncle Fester. They have bulbous heads, beady little eyes, chubby little bodies, bald heads, bad teeth, and their arms and legs look dwarf like. Ugly, unappealing, scary even. And they have no morals. If you took an old helpless bald man with no teeth and scaled him quarter size, you'd basically have a baby.

If you doubt this, just try this well known experiment. Stick a cigar into the mouth of any newly born infant: it will look just like Winston Churchill.

And oh how these humanoid dwarfs shit. I can think of no other young animal that shits as much as a human baby. Not only do they crap a lot, but they don't even know where to crap. They have no born instinct about where, how, or when to crap. Animals, on the other hand, automatically know where to defecate and they usually do it in some private location. Cats will even bury their feces. But you have to teach a human baby where and how to crap, and it can take anywhere from one to two years to educate them! (By comparison, I taught my cat how to use a human toilet in about 2 months.) Babies go whenever they feel like it and this forces the parent to wrap the sorry thing in an absorbent diaper just to hold the crap and to limit the horrible stench. In effect what you get amounts to a chubby little ugly dwarf wrapped in a bag of crap that smells like diarrhea. And you will have to spend years and hundreds-of-thousands of dollars raising the thing. And if you ever spank one of these foul little bastards, someone might accuse you of child abuse and you could spend years in a prison. Who needs that?