Happy Day, Father.
2002-06-16 - 6:32 p.m.

before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

Yeah, Happy F'n Father's Day.

Thanks for all the bullshit.  Thanks for the beatings.

Thanks for pulling me out of bed at 4:00 am in high school, throwing me against a wall, and choking the shit out of me because I didn't have my term paper done.

Thanks for shaking me so hard when I was six that my eyes jiggled in my head like eggs on springs.

Thanks for doing it again when I got in your way in the hall in high-school.

Thanks for the constant insults and sublte put-downs.  The look in your eye that says it all, when everyone else seems to think something good of me.

Thanks for hitting me.

Thanks for attacking me senior year in high-school, so savagely that I had to get you in a head lock and hold you on the floor.  (shit surprised you, didn't it.)

Thanks for the constant shouting as I grew up.  For making me placate your ego.

For trying to crush my will.

Thanks for bitching and guilt-tripping me this winter, as I lay practically on my death-bed, so I could go out and shovel snow for you.

Thanks for coming up behind be a few days ago and screaming at me, because I wouldn't tell you what I was making to eat.

You weird motherfucker. 

Happy Fuckin' Father's Day, pops.

I'm sure you believe its all my fault.