Father’s Day 2017
This is going to be a good one..
Dear Male figure who used to be on my birth certificate,
Fuck off and die.
Okay, that felt a little too good. But seriously, I do actually have a little bit of noise to unload about this today. So here goes nothing.
So I think about this from time to time. But there is actually no way to trace me to you anymore. You lost that privilege the last time you called me a *faggot*. Remember doing that? Probably not, you were drunk at the time. It was at a work lunch, in front of colleagues. Remember yet?
But seriously, we no longer have anything that ties us together…
And damn is that liberating! But legally (thanks to a fabulous attorney in that god-awful state of Texas  where I was unfortunate enough to be born in and grow up in) you are no longer my father. Which means the following:
- You lost the privilege to share a name with me.
- When you die, and when I die, we will be buried 6 feet under cold earth and not a soul will breathe a word about the other’s name.
But this is what shakes me to the core. I know who you are.
Later today when you get an anonymous text file dropped off on your fileserver at the office, you will know who I am.
Here is where it gets good…
There is nothing you can do about it. There is no one you can pay. There is not a person you can yell at. There is not a number you can call. There is literally nothing you can do.
So I know who you are.
You now know who I am in.
We are the only ones who can connect these dots.
Which makes this, our little secret…
Happy Father’s Day!
This year you get the gift of feeling powerless, scared, and threatened.
Which is my little way of returning the favor from my childhood..
Well for starters you still haven’t figured it out, so there is one of many things that is beyond fucked.
So I put together a quick list of my favorite quotes that lead us to wear we are today..
We don’t have faggots in our family
Remember? When I was 16? I sure do.
It’s not illegal unless you get caught
Seriously shaking my head. You thought it was a good idea to raise your children to cheat. Idiot.
Hey son, can you please pass the coke? I would like another line before I fuck this hooker.
Yeah not even gonna touch this right now. Why did you..? You know what.. never mind… ugh.
So that’s not a quote, thats the sound of you hitting my mother in front of me. Which if you remember, happened many times before I finally started watching you cheat on her. Why didn’t they lock you up forever?
Between the drinking, drugs, prostitutes, lies, and bigoted mental abuse, I was able to turn into a somewhat decent person. So I suppose there is that.
I seriously barely even touched on some of the shit you did, or something of the things you put me through. You know what they are, I don’t need to remind you.
Don’t you dare say sorry. Don’t insult me.
If you want to make things different then start with yourself. If you want to love me, then start with loving yourself. If you want me in your life, start by treating yourself right, and having a healthy life on your own.
You lost. It’s too late. But you can still script your own life. So.. maybe try not to fuck that up too?
Okay seriously.. Texas wasn’t that bad. What was bad was the Pentecostal vomit that was forced down my throat, as well as the fact that I was raised with a sexist and bigoted set of beliefs delivered straight from the 1940s. Oh.. that and the bugs. FUCK the bugs in Texas. But otherwise Texas was alright, especially Austin. The weed in high school there was great!
1,076 total views, 1 views today