Special thanks to Orlando Insider contributor and YouTuber AngryPunkBronxKid for the vlog; edited by Jordan Krumbine. See more of our #occupywallstreet coverage here.
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If there was a college class on parenting, we here at Orlando Insider imagine that it would be fairly simple. It would consist of the following rules:
1) Refrain from letting your child sh*t on the floor like an animal
2) See rule 1, except it should also apply for walls, ceilings, animals, etc.
3) See rules 1 and 2, except for extra credit let's try to keep the child from sh*tting on themselves
4) Keep the child from running out of your home naked. (extra credit: keep them from doing that while covered in sh*t)
If these four simple rules were the guidelines, then George Howard and Lucy Johnson would receive a failing grade in our Imagined Parenting 101 college class. It's like they looked at the rules, looked to each other, and then nodded solemnly, knowing full well what they needed to do as parents. (Read: break the f*ck out of each those beautifully simple rules.)
Meanwhile, as our story develops, a police officer was enjoying a lunch at a nearby diner, blissfully unaware of the fecal fiasco that would hit the fan only feet away from him.
Suddenly (and with alleged gusto) a sh*t covered toddler waltzed into the diner and began to stare at the patrons. The police officer dropped his fork and wondered what he had done to offend God this day. Soon after, he escorted the boy back to his sh*t covered home, where he found the parents passed out. After calling the Department of Children and Families, he and his partner begrudgingly left the child with his family.
The next day, an agent from DCF pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot, and was immediately confused by the sight of a nude toddler -- covered in dried feces -- pacing to and fro. The DCF agent took the child to his shi*t covered home, where he found the parents were once again passed out. Reasons as to why are unclear at this time, but the DCF agent returned the toddler to his parents and bid them good day.
The very next, a call was sent to the police from the very same diner where our story began. Much to everyone's surprise, there was a nearly-nude, feces-covered child (this time he was wearing an adult t-shirt) staring at the diner's patrons.
When the police returned the boy to his sh*t covered home, the parents answered the door and said they had been -- yep, you guess it! -- passed out.
Finally, the parents were taken into custody for what we can only assumed is legally described as Super Child Neglect. The child in question was finally taken into DCF custody.
On their website, Amscot declares, "We believe you deserve fast, friendly service in convenient locations. Our staff is professional and courteous – working to ensure you have an outstanding customer experience with every visit!"
To which one individual replied in apparently the only way they knew how, "F*ck that and f*ck you."
And then this individual proceeded pummel the store with their car, like a battering ram of disgust. So intent were they on their mission of destructive building-rape rage that their car went completely into the store... leaving behind a gaping hole of grim hate.
It's uncertain what exactly Amscot did to invoke this blood feud between man and building. One may even assume that Amscot slew the individual's father in a rainy ghetto, leaving a child to weep over their father, shaking his fist at the heavens in a silent, beguiled rage.
Another theory might be that the individual arrived home early to find Amscot in bed with their spouse.
Either way, the strike left the Amscot's structural integrity in question ... and who knows what we have yet to discover of the store's other integrities. Either way, one thing is certain: vehicular justice was upheld this day.
Florida Department of Children and Families Foils Child's Destiny and Likely Dooms the Planet to a Horrible Fate
Sometimes a boy wakes up in the morning and says, "I want to be a basketball star when I grow up." Sometimes he wakes up and says, "Maybe a big, strong firefighter is in my future." But sometimes, in a rare star-crossed turn of events, a boy will wake up and say, "Know what? I think I wanna be a monk."
[Ed. -- On the other hand, if the kid's anything like us, he probably wakes up and says, "Hey, what's that burning sensation in my urethra?"]
Thus was the case with a young boy from Port Orange who woke up one morning only to find himself "missing". And by "missing" we mean he donned the orange garb, slipped on some sandals, and began walking The Great Journey.
Alas, this world (and Port Orange) is not one for allowing such free-spirited pursuit of passion and dreams. To that end, the staff here at orlandoinsider.org spent several hours trying to figure out what exactly you call it when your dream of becoming a monk is blocked by The Man. Monk-Blocked? Denialentenment? Monk Spunked?
Either way, on April 25th of this year, the police summarily cock-monk-blunked the young man from ever achieving his enlightened goals. The boy was found with his maternal grandmother (whom we imagine was a wise elder and highly proficient in a variety of lethal fighting styles) and was swiftly removed before he could learn the fine art of water bending or how to use the Force to lift rocks and subsequently save the world from certain, empirical doom.
The boy monk avatar is currently being held in the custody of the Florida Department of Children and Families. In fact, right this minute, the would-be savior of mankind is likely teaching the other children that there IS NO MOTHERF*CKING SPOON, BITCHES!
Students outside a Cocoa Beach private school had a cold-hard dose of reality when the school fell victim to a vicious terror attack by local bees. Speculators have suggested that the attack may have been religiously motivated, as the name of the school is Church of Our Savior Catholic School.
Despite said speculation, the staff here at Orlando Insider doubts that bees care what religion (if any) the children embrace. That's just ridiculous. We watched Jerry Seinfeld's Bee Movie and we get it -- the bees are mad as hell and aren't going to take it any more.
Thirty-eight children were attacked and injured during the terror attack, suffering vicious stings in what we can only assume is a variety of undisclosed locations on their bodies. Amongst the buzz of scorned wings and the flurry of wanting stingers, one thing was obviously clear: the school was clearly under siege by a bee hive.
After following up with this tragic story, Orlando Insider can report that there is currently no word yet as to whether local (or national) governments intend to respond to this blatant act of aggression from the insect extremists. Currently, our national threat level remains the same.
As the bees have effectively invaded and seized control of the school, the official word from school administrators is that the school (heretofore known as "The Hive") will remain closed until "the problem is taken care of".
The thoughts and prayers of the Orlando Insider writing staff go out to the victims of the Church of Our Savior Catholic School Bee Terror Attack and we wish them and their families the very best.
Nice shirt? Check.
Clean pants? Check.
Pre-date wank-a-thon? Double-check.
Here at Orlando Insider, we've done about all we can to get ready for the arrival of Irene. Sure, we've heard the rumors ... she has a temper; she can be really abusive; she's pretty much blown a LOT of dudes.
But look on the bright side: it's pretty much a lock that she'll give it up on the first date. At least a BJ. Plus, she said yes to the date in the first place. So how bad can she be?
Hm? What's that, National Hurricane Center? Irene's not coming?
That f*cking bitch. She stood us up.
Not only that, but she sent her friends wind, rain, and big waves to break the news. "She's busy," they yell, in only the way that wind, rain, and waves can yell [Ed: in a windy, rainy, wave-y voice].
Goddammit, Irene! We just jerked off to sixteen minutes of animated Simpsons porn for you!
The National Hurricane Center is telling us that she's on her way to North Carolina's instead? Like the whore she undoubtedly is. North Carolina probably has a bigger wallet, huh? [Ed: and by wallet, we mean penis.] We see how it is. Sure, North Carolina might have better cars, fancier places to eat, and an overall stronger economy ... but our state is SHAPED like a penis. You can't beat that with a stick. Or a penis. A blue whale's penis.
So go ahead! Go to your precious, leather-jacket wearing, "bad boy" North Carolina. We'll just stay home and listen to our records and try to pretend you didn't hurt us as much as you did.
And know this, Irene ... when North Carolina breaks your heart -- as it undoubtedly will -- remember that we jerked off to animated Simpsons porn for you. Because that's how much we cared.
The Heart-Broken Orlando Insider Writing Staff