Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Adopt a Smart Ass Cripple

Who wants to adopt Smart Ass Cripple? I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve totally lost my identity. Ever since way back when I was a cherubic lad with just a hint of a smart ass glimmer in my eyes, they’ve been calling me Jerry’s Kid. But now that Jerry’s gone, whose kid am I?

I always knew that as one of Jerry’s Kids, I was different from regular kids. Jerry’s Kids never grow up. We’re not allowed to. It’s like they baptized us in the Fountain of Youth, except the age-retarding potency of the water in this fountain is magnified by ten thousand. It’s the Fountain of Infantilization. Even after I developed decidedly unchildlike traits, like pubic hair and a sex drive, they still called me Jerry’s Kid.

But whose kid am I now? American Idol producer Nigel Lythgoe will be taking over as one of the telethon hosts. So I suppose some big shot in the hierarchies will attempt to deem that henceforth I’m am to be known as American Idol Producer Nygel Lythgoe’s Kid.

But that’s fucked up. You can’t just extinguish a cult of personality as entrenched as Jerry’s with the mere flick of a press release. It’s going to take a Soviet style purge, maybe even another Cultural Revolution, to do that. You may have to send everybody who ever watched the telethon to re-education camps to get them to stop looking at cripples as Jerry’s Kids.

So screw it. As far as I concerned, I’m now a free agent. And I’m selling my naming rights to the highest bidder. Whoever kicks in the most cash, I will be your kid. You don’t have to be famous. Adopt me and I’m sure we’ll figure out a way to make both of us famous.

And as an extra added bonus, when you adopt me you also automatically adopt every other cripple in the world. Because that’s how it worked with Jerry’s Kids. It didn’t matter what kind of cripple we really were. To the average Pete on the Street, unschooled on the many genres of crippledom, we were all Jerry’s Kids.

This is an incredible offer you can’t afford to pass up. But wait there’s more! Adopt me now and I’ll include this amazing set of steak knives absolutely free, plus free shipping and handling!

I’m desperate to be adopted. I’m lost. That’s what happens when the giant thumb of a smothering parent is suddenly lifted. The blinding sun makes me squint. Its sizzling rays burn my albino skin. I need shelter quick.

If you really really want to adopt me but you’re just not sure if you have what it takes, ask yourself these three simple questions: Do you have enough integrity? Do you have enough moral character? Do you have enough cash?

If you answered yes to the third question, this could be your lucky day!

15 comments:

  1. Nygel Lythgoe’s Kids just doesn't have the demeaning snap to it. Keep your head up brother I am quite sure your day's a-comin'.

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  2. You are the son of god and Jesus paid the price!! Come to celebrate recovery and learn about Jesus!

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  3. Don't forget that you and your cohorts in Chicago are seven morons. Jerry said so. I heard it. It was just before 3:00 New York time in the afternoon on the telethon in 1995.

    So perhaps the adoption should be with a discount.

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  4. Is $10 insulting? I'll pledge $15.

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  5. Have you considered Angelina Jolie?

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  6. What about Jerry Lee Lewis?

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  7. I pledge $121.38 and my old Donny Osmond collection

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  8. I've got $1.98!

    Wait, it'll never work. I'm a cripple too. Or maybe... we could be Cripples' Cripples!

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  9. Jesus doesn't have the cash

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  10. Ok, My final bid is $122.21 but I keep my Donny Osmond Collection

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  11. If you can't get adopted we could always start a cripple commune and pool resources. I could use the help planning my million cripple march (or roll if you prefer) on Washington!

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  12. You can do much better than Nigel. Keep the dream alive.

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  13. I want my cut of these riches. Jerry "raised" more than $1.5 billion, and it is possible that actual disabled people realized as much as HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS from decades of belittlement. In the immortal words of Mike Royko invoking the real motto of the City of Chicago, Ubi Est Mea? -- Where's mine?

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  14. I used to be on our local telethon, camera staring into my poor crippled face while everyone clapped until all the phones lit up. Sooooo humiliating. After puberty they got some other younger kid. Darn, darn, darn.

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  15. We could hold a telethon to raise money for DA adoption...

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