"You Shouldn't Be Allowed To Have Kids..."

I was recently told that I shouldn't be allowed to have kids. Or maybe it was that I shouldn't be allowed around children. Or maybe it was both. Further, in what seems to be a common occurrence, it wasn't any physical action that precipitated the "No kids for Krëg!" sentiment, but rather the colorful selection of my few contributions to the conversation.

I was a mostly silent part of a three party conversation about someone's forthcoming planned family vacation to Branson, MO. I was mostly silent because I mostly can't stand Branson.

As a brief aside, perhaps I should throw a little candlelight into the dark corner of my mind where my feelings about Branson live. Due to cost, location, and family-themed entertainment, it is a popular destination (in these parts) for many families. The town fills a need of the people, namely that of cheap entertainment utterly devoid of anything controversial.

Branson is what happens when you take a fun, exciting "destination" town like New Orleans or Bangkok and then bleach away everything that was considered unwholesome by 1953 standards (yes, even the tranny strippers). Their nuclear age mindset is so out of step with regular society, I think they still disparagingly use the word "Negro" in some areas. However, that suspicion is difficult to gauge, as most citizens will never have reason to use that word. It isn't that minorities are not allowed anywhere inside certain sections of the county, but rather that most minorities have the good sense to avoid Branson in the first place, and instead go someplace fun.

While racial discrimination is terrible, it isn't what makes me scream internally when I think of Branson. That honor goes to the overwhelming lameness of the whole area, a lameness which for most folks is Branson's biggest selling point. Need a place to take your family that is devoid of any possible unsavory influences? Branson is the place. Looking for a vacation location with no homelessness or crime, saving you from the uncomfortable task of explaining to your children "why that man looks so dirty" or "why you locked the car doors"? Branson. Don't want to have your conservative assumptions challenged in ANY way? Branson. Think life should mirror a Norman Rockwell painting? Branson. Think your genitals are ONLY for conceiving children? Branson. Don't want to think too hard about anything you see or hear? Branson.



Quiz time!
Which of these two photos do you think was taken in Branson?

More teeth = more value. And that show is the toothiest.

Point of fact, I have no idea where either of these two pictures were actually taken, but I can say with extreme confidence that you'll find only one of these bands performing in Branson, and it won't be the Sex Pistols. In fact, I'm pretty sure Sid Vicious's death from overdose was just a clever plan to get out of having to play there. Smart move on his part.

Horrible L7 acts just litter the town. Take a look for yourself. Pretty damn terrible lineup for anyone with even a sliver of a soul. In past years, similar square talent has included Yakov Smirnoff (no relation to the equally sucky vodka), Andy Williams, ...

...and John "Mutherfuckin" Davidson.

When I think of the living embodiment of the expression "off the hook," only one face comes to mind...

"John? Yeah, we're getting some complaints about you holding a black phallus up to your face. No, no. WE don't have a problem with it, but some little old ladies are complaining. I know, I know, I thought your old-lady-hairstyle would mollify them too, but no dice. Apparently, holding a phallus that close to your lips keeps dragging up thoughts of the 'sins' of their youth, and not just because it's black. CAN SOMEONE GET MR. DAVIDSON A BOTTLED WATER WHILE I GO FIRE SOMEONE IN WARDROBE?"

"Hey! That's better! A nice, non-threatening guita... wait, why is it covered in girlish flowers? And did you put on LIP GLOSS?!? What the HELL, John! ALL RIGHT PEOPLE LET'S BREAK FOR LUNCH WHILE I HAVE A LITTLE TALK WITH OUR 'TALENT'."

Yeah, panties all over the stage. Septuagenarians climbing on top of the PA speakers and jumping off. Walkers and hoverrounds in the mosh pit. Roadies and crew threatened with knitting needles. Just the most extreme concert experience ever.

At any rate, the lameness pretty much makes Branson a non-destination for me. At least until I reach a point in my life where I have a few kids and only a handful of cash to blow on a family vacation. I'm sure I'll be singing the praises of Branson then. Alleluia. Amen.

Oddly, the post header proclamation that I should not breed did not arise from my silent fulminations about Sucktown. All the Branson conversation did was cause me to wonder how many times bile could climb my gullet, be choked back down, and STILL be considered bile. Four? Seven?

Fortunately for me, the conversation soon turned to a more palatable subject: pornography. The coworker remarked that every time they cross the border into Missouri, there are a few last stop/first stop roadside porn shacks that her two boys always point out.

Yeah, that's when I started chiming in...

"You should totally stop there, just to mess with your kids," I advised. "Wait, how old are they?"

13 and 15.

"Oh yeah, they have senses of humor by now. You and your husband should pull up to the first skin shack you see. 'You kids wait in the car! Momma and Pa are gonna go fetch some sweaty movies!'."

Yeah, that'd be pretty crazy.

"You could go inside and only ask for the largest sack they have, then act like it is weighed down with purchases when you leave the store thirty seconds later. Drag it between your legs like it is too heavy to lift."

My husband and I could each grab a handle and act like we're struggling to move it!

"Yes! Your sons would admire both the speed at which you pornshop, and the way you buy in bulk! Hey, can't your oldest drive?"

Yes. A little bit.

"You should make him circle the block, like you actually have some shame or something. I mean, he'll eventually have to learn how to drive in circles around the porn block anyway. He may as well start polishing that skill set now. Plus, think of the awesome stories he'll be able to tell his friends and children in the coming years... 'Yeah, I got pulled over for underage driving when I was fifteen. Mom and dad were buying The Legend Of Assblaster while I was circling the block.'"

You shouldn't be allowed to have kids.

"I know."