Classic literature is not to be trusted with your children.

The other day (and in the words of the amazing Ed Byrne “when I say the other day that really means between now and…. ever”) I was having a conversation with my 20 year old son who is currently reading The Divine Comedy by Dante, more specifically, he is reading Dante’s Inferno. And let me tell you, that is some pretty messed up stuff. Human Centipede, Teeth, Saw? Nope, the people that imagined those sick and twisted plots lack the nauseating and warped imagery that Dante sprang forth from his dark and perverse imaginarium. Seriously, there is essentially what is a rape tornado in this book. Did you get that?   A tornado full of raping. Yeah, that happened.

What’s worse is the dentist’s office style waiting that is one circle of hell.

Me: “Your soul is important to us. Your afterlife may be recorded for training purposes.”

Me:“Thank you for waiting. Your deity of choice will be with you as shortly as possible.”

Son: “It doesn’t say how he got to hell.”
Me:“Probably took a wrong turn at Albuquerque.”

Son: “Yeah … can you go to hell for us…….(shrugs) Seems legit.”

Son: “Much fire. Very pain. Such ice. Wow.”

Son: “He got lost… and went to hell!”
Me: “Yeah, that happens. I went to Gosford once too.

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