I, Auntie Carol, am all wroth. The Dastardly State of Our Young People appalls me. I decided to actually use me English degree on something other than wrting romance fiction. After all I am living in a fiction where every woman, no matter how homely always ends up with a beau, or to put it crudely, a testosterone filled “Hunk”. Not everybody would go for my Herman, who is a hermaphrodite. His alter ego is Emma Enigma. I have wedded a man and a woman. He fully plays both roles. Heavens me, that makes me a lesbian, too. Shame, where is thy sting. But I love him just the way he is. Our last dinner party Emma played a little joke on everybody. He served a rubber chicken and nonchalantly carved it up and served it and opened a can of peas and spooned some on each plate. Everybody was thinking of what we southerners say, “He don’t got what all he own” or “His elevator don’t go all the way to the top”. Then Emma burst out in laughter and said, “Why didn’t you say something? Or at least say this chicken is cold. But no, everybody was so horrified. Do you think mental illness is contagious?” Emma doubled over laughing. She wore a tasteful baby blue cashmere sweater, pearls and a organza full skirt. Then she proceeded to take the plates back and serve the “real” dinner, beouf buorgeone with shitake mushrooms, roasted potatoes, green beans almondine, corn on the cob, and her favorite, candied yams and home baked cornbread. Or shall I say“candid” yams. A little bon mot for you, darlings. The deserts were celestial to say the least. Home made pecan pie, peach cobbler and blackberry pie. But I digress. Let’s get back to our main topic, The Dastardly Youth of Today.

Do you know school girls are giving young ruffians oral sex or to put it crudely, “Blow jobs” on the bus , and that they wear string bracelets telling others what they will do sexually. And there’s the code of “No involvement”. It does seems to me if you’ve got someone’s thingamajigger in your mouth, you ARE INVOLVED. They don’t consider it as having sex. I guess it’s their way of shaking hands. Girls are not ashamed to be pregnant out of wedlock anymore and don’t even give a thought as to how they will support the child. In my day we had the line, a point where a boy was not allowed to go. We had at the neck, under the breasts and then lower. The lower were what we snubbed and called “tramps”. Be a nice girl and the boys will respect you. That was the advice our mothers drummed into our heads. These girls had a lot of dates. “safety in numbers”, I suppose. A little witticism for you. They called it “putting out” Girls who put out were roundly despised by both the boys and the girls. Everybody was always into being popular which doesn’t say much for our generation. Hitler was popular, too. Now these poor dollies are being all used up by selfish cads. They don’t even take them out properly or meet the parents. They don’t even walk up to the door: they honk their horns and our sodden angel comes out. There’s no respect for authority, parental or societal. The main thing is they have no goals or unrealistic ones. Everyone is going to be a movie star or a sports hero so why do they need numbers or to know where Caracas is.

The family is a weak unit with both parents tired from working their own jobs to keep hearth and home. If I ran the world, I’d make all mothers stay in the home until the kid was twelve and then work only part time. Strangers are raising our children. Babies are having babies.
I’d make all girls wear chastity belts until the age of nineteen. I am assuming the girl might have some sense by then and not give herself out like penny candy. And I’d have a test young marrieds would have to take a test to decide whether they’d make good parents. I assume there’d be a lot of tubal ligations. Oh, well, we can’t be turning out these little monsters. It’s all turning into ClockWork Orange: life is imitating art. I went to my “Sub” job and they threw condoms full of water at me. I told them this is what your parents should’ve used when the begat you. I can be rather unpleasant when vexed.

I tell you wake up. There’s a cultural revolution going on and it’s our youth who are failing at life. For heaven’s sake talk to your children and don’t let them walk all over you. If you respect nothing then you can’t respect yourself either. Well, that’s my rant and when I give the girls the lecture they just look at me like I was unhinged. Still. I will persevere for the ones I can reach. America is poisonous., and the bloom is off the rose. Alors!

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