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Brain Farts was a weekly humor column that ran in the Louisville Eccentric Observer from mid-2000 until the summer of 2002. It was, well, eccentric. And occasionally satirical. And sardonic. Some liked it, some hated it; some just didn't get it, and that's OK. There were times when I didn't get it either. I've compiled here some of the archives from Brain Farts for the enjoyment of friends, family and anyone else who happens by. I also have written some new Brain Farts, and added some links and other trivialities that you shouldn't be too concerned with.

Unless you're as bored as I am.

Ever try adopting a dog from a rescue league? Well, I just completed one such adoption. Got myself a great little canine pal to hang out with and speak gibberish to at random moments (they love that), and I didn’t even have to get fingerprinted or undergo a cavity search. Actually, I was a little surprised by that. Why? I not only had to fill out an extensive, multi-page application, I had to write in my own words why I would be good for a pet. I had to provide references, and the rescue league even sent a volunteer representative to do a “home inspection.” As in, “Maybe your house is good enough for you, but we’re not convinced that makes it good enough for a dog.”

I don’t mean to sound negative – it’s just an interesting thing to witness, especially when you consider that becoming a parent is as easy as finding someone stupid enough to engage in sexual intercourse with you. The only good thing Keanu Reeves ever did on film was in “Parenthood,” wherein his dopey surfer-boy character said – and I’m paraphrasing – “You have to have a license to drive a car; you have to have a license to own a dog. You even have to have a license to catch a fish – but they’ll let any butt-reaming asshole be a parent.”

Brilliant. And for the rescue league’s part, they’re just trying to avoid having dogs come back to them repeatedly or undergo any more emotional hardship than they already have. Give a dog the right home, and he’s set for life.

Problem with humans is, if you’re born into a home that the rescue league wouldn’t even approve for a dog, there’s no place to which you can be sent back. You’re kind of stuck, at least until you’re 18. This can cause depression, crime, drug abuse and, sadly, even causes some young people to listen to Kid Rock CDs. It's tragic.

So just why is it so easy to become a parent compared to adopting a dog from a rescue league? Is this socially responsible? Why is becoming a parent so much easier than, say, getting on an airplane? “Sorry, honey, but before we can have intercourse, you’ll need to stand over there, remove your jacket and shoes, and wait for the guard with the metal detector. Please try not to make any sudden movements, as he is armed.”

Or completing a transaction at your bank even? “Sorry, dear, but before I let you, er, ‘cash your check,’ you’ll have to show me two forms of ID and confirm your mother’s maiden name.”

Think about what you go through just to get a new job – personality screenings, background checks, references, aptitude tests, multiple interviews. But you say you wanna become a parent? It doesn’t matter if you are a sociopathic control freak or a narcissist with obsessive-compulsive disorder: Just grab your partner and do-si-do.

Is it any wonder the world is so full of dysfunction and divorce? Hell, we can’t even make more than half of our marriages work, and yet we think we want to become parents? Right. This is why I propose a standardized screening process for anyone wanting to become a parent. It doesn’t have to be all that taxing, but you have to draw the line somewhere, right? So any applicant who fails has two more tries to pass. If they can’t pass the test in three total tries, they must be made sterile. They will be permitted to date other flunkies, but they can’t bear the fruit of their loins, so to speak. Here’s an example of what I’m talking about ... 

Test No. 1:  The Application
The prospective parent(s) would be asked to complete a detailed application for evaluation by a committee of successful parents (those whose children appear to be reasonably well-adjusted; i.e., no satanic rituals, mass shootings or animal mutilation in their background). The application would include basic math and language skills questions, as well as background, personal info and questions on parenting skills. Sample: “How many times per day do you think your child should have the piss smacked out of him?” (See? It’s a trick question. It assumes the parent will be smacking the child every day, when it’s entirely possible that the child may not need to be smacked more than a few times a week.)
 

Test No. 2:  The Interview
Would-be parents must be interviewed by a qualifying parent who has raised at least one child to adulthood successfully (meaning the child hasn’t been convicted of more than one violent felony; white collar crime is OK). This interview process will involve theoretical questions as well as intelligence assessment. Sample question: “If you were a parent of a 3-year-old child, had only $21 left in your checking account, and there were still five days before payday, you would: A) Buy milk and other necessities; B) Buy beer and cigarettes; C) Parlay the $21 into $2,100 at the off-track betting parlor.” The prospective dad or mom would then have 30 seconds to reason out the best use of the family money. Counting on fingers and toes is allowed.
 

Test No. 3: The Home Inspection
The home inspection for my dog mostly centered on how safe and secure the backyard was. With the parental home inspection, however, inspectors would be looking for hidden drug stashes, bullet holes in walls, squalor, unpaid bills lying around and more. Also, a search would be run through local police – any more than five domestic disturbances in a 60-day period is grounds for disqualification. If a body is found on the property, the outcome of the resulting murder or manslaughter trial will be the determining factor. I can see it now: “Your honor, I can’t see why killing my neighbor over a garden hose should prevent me from spreading my DNA. I know that no kid of mine will ever steal my garden hose.”

See how much emotional stress this might relieve? Helps curb overpopulation too. And let’s face it, it’s the only socially responsible thing to do. For society. For us. For our children.

But you’ll have to excuse me for now. I have to feed that #$%@ dog before he blows a @#$&ing gasket or something.

Contact the writer at kgramone@aol.com. Tell your mommy.