To me, that reads the same as “Parents let kid drop out of highschool to focus on crystal meth,” or “Parents let kid drop out of highschool to explore newfound interest in clumsy teenage sex.”
“”We couldn’t take the complaining anymore,” said his mom.” That’s REAL parenting. The kind of parenting you normally only find when mom and dad share a few chromasomes. The best part is, the kid ISN’T some kind of Guitar Hero prodigy. He won a few local tournaments and has only earned about $1000, and most of that was in chicken sandwich coupons (I shit you not). I know to a kid $1000 worth of Chik-Fil-A seems like all you really need to get by in life (hell, it sounds pretty good to me right now), but man can not live on delicious breaded chicken parts alone. How’s he going to afford fries, Diet Coke and honey mustard?
I remember when I was 8 and I told my mom I was dropping out of 3rd grade and leaving home to join Voltron. I had my arguments rehearsed (something like, “I WANT TO JOIN VOLTRON BECAUSE THEY ARE ROBOT LIONS AND THEY ARE IN SPACE AND THEY HAVE A SWORD AND I WANT TO DRIVE A ROBOT!”) and I wasn’t taking “no” for an answer. As any good parent would do, she told me I couldn’t join Voltron because they were satanic and made Jesus cry. Seemed like a good reason to stay in school at the time. In retrospect I regret not taking that chance at happiness.
Aw hell, Guitar Hero Idiot Kid, go live your dream. You ride that plastic guitar all the way to top. All the way to the extended stay motel where you and your common law wife will wretch and convulse night after night becuase your button clacking skills can’t afford you the delicious meth you need to feed the dragon in your brain. DREAM BIG YOU STUPID SONOFABITCH!
I know there’s more to this story than what I’ve portrayed here. If you want to know the rest, Google and read. If you want to laugh at a silly comic with little to no basis in reality, I can help you with that.