My daughter has been a bit insolent lately.
I blame it on all this American gangsta rap that she likes watching. Those Slim Shady and Will Smith punks.

She’s got a bad attitude. She’s been hanging out with lowlife toddlers and now she’s taken to this “tagging” craze, where you graffiti people’s property.
If it was Other People’s Property, I probably wouldn’t care so much, but unfortunately it is My walls, doors, books, ransom notes, etc.

Confiscating her crayons doesn’t seem work, so I’ve adopted a Tough Love stance.
Now when she acts all impertinent, I give her some time out…

…in the chilly bin of Think About What You’ve Done, Missy!

I know, I know. You’re thinking that’s all a little bit extreme, but let me point out that for lesser offences I also have the …

… clothes basket of Bad Baby!

What? A bit cruel, you reckon?
Need I remind you that you’re talking to a guy whose parents used to tie him to a clothes line.

I gotta say though, that my daughter is super clever.

She’s only 20-months-old, but she can already remove all the nuts and bolts from her bike, strip it down and then put it back together again.

When I first saw this, I clapped encouragement and then said: “Great! Now go downstairs and change the oil filter on daddy’s car!”

She just replied with a “nah” (her favourite word) and then ran away.
Kids today have no respect.

Want to know the worrying thing? D-Missus is pregnant again. Nine weeks.

I’m going to need more clothes baskets…

Dear Fuckers,

Last night you decided to start having a party at 12:55am.
By 1:05am you had moved into the street, drinking, swearing, shouting, etc.
This went on for some hours.

This is just to warn you that if it happens again I’m coming out there with my chilly bin of Shut The Fuck Up!

Teach your children well, but if you can’t, just deny that they’re yours when out in public.

And: