Dear makers of agitating and semi-pointless kid’s toys,

Don’t take this the wrong way, but on behalf of all the parents in the world, go eat a warm sandwich baggie full of farts.

I’m sorry to use such harsh language but your incessant songs/rhymes/repetitive phrases voiced by a woman that sounds as if she chugs carafes of coffee before shoving an open umbrella up her vagina to obtain just the right annoying vocal pitch in which to say “T stands for Tall” has us all a teeny bit on edge.  I’ll tell you what T really stands for toots — it sounds like ‘what’ and it refers to the makers of this torture devices created in the depths of hell.

Look, I get it, the music and sounds stimulate young minds and gets the little people moving, grooving and up out of their ‘Umizoomi’ induced hazed brought on by the warming glow of four hours of Nick Jr. You’re doing the Lord’s work. Except you purposely do shit just to screw with the caregivers of the little monsters who keep pressing the play button like crackhead on a drug vending machine. Do they have vending machines for drugs yet? I keep checking the vestibules of Babies R’ Us in hopes that the average parent can just get a little $1 taste to dull the pain. Maybe drugs should come with these kids toys?

Where the hell was I…oh right.. why I think you’re dicking us all around.  You do things purposely just to screw with our sanity. A good example is the options for sound that include ‘ear piercing,’ ’ slightly less ear piercing,’ and OFF. Haha. I’m kidding. You don’t come with an OFF button. It might read OFF but the toy is never really off. It’s only muted until 4am when the house is dead silent and I’m walking past to take my eleventh whizz of night. (Is there anything in the vending machine for constant urination?) Nevermind. I’m just going to piss on this duck that is only suppose to play when put in water but likes to quack every time I reach past it in the cabinet. Hopefully it shorts out the circuitry or at least electrocutes me into another couple hours sleep.

It’s all fine though because, we, the annoyed parents of the children that play with these toys will get the last laugh. It will be just like ‘Toy Story 3’ or at least what I remember between long cries and wails of ‘I miss my childhood!’ — one day the toys will have to go. We’d like to give them to needy children but that just isn’t going to even the score. These toys have a date with a screwdriver and middle-aged hands still jumpy from years of torture and vending machine Zoloff. ‘Tstands for Take that ya fucking duck.’

Or we might just give them to friends with small children. Their kids will love ‘em.

Love and butt rubs,

Chris