My Father is STILL a crap Father
I just want to start off by saying that I love my sister, my mother, and even my father. I’m not pissed off that my sister told my father about my blog, I’m just pissed off that she taught him how to use the computer. Actually, she didn’t teach him, she bought him one of those lame iPad pieces of crap, and bookmarked my blog for him. She, of course, did all of this without telling me, so needless to say, when he read about himself being a crap dad, he got a little upset.
Now the thing about my dad, is that getting upset for him means that he doesn’t take it out on you, he takes it out on your sense of worth. Instead of yelling or throwing things, the way a normal person would do, he calmly wrote me a four page, single-spaced letter, (written in cursive, I guess my sister was too cheap to buy him a printer) about his overall disappointment with me.. I’ll save you the multiple inferences, but basically the letter was about how my anger towards him does not come from anything that he’s done. Apparently my frustration stems from my own inability to accept unhappiness as a part of life, rather than turn it into “a predicated force of nature that eliminates the simple will to turn your life around”. In other words, he thinks I’m spoiled and that I blame everything on him rather than take the time to find out why. He also said that if I had continued the sessions with Uncle Stu, (there are three other psychologists on my father’s side of the family, figure that one out DAD) that I might have found a more constructive outlet for my frustration than to “create a public forum whereby to humiliate certain parties in order to justify your socialization defects”. Thanks dad. Thanks a lot.
First of all, I created this blog because I love Dr. Pepper, NOT because I don’t love you. In short, I finally found something that I want to do, and the only input you have is to tell me that I suck. Well I don’t suck, you suck, and if you want me to buy a thesaurus and hand write a bunch of stupid words describing how much you suck, forget it. We both know that your critique of my writing comes from all of your library of medical books that you never let me look at because you said they would just confuse me. We both know the real reason that you never let me touch them is that you are CONSTANTLY lifting lines and quoting them, and you wanted me to think that you were this brilliant father who didn’t need Thorndike to complete a sentence.
I know the real reason you’re upset with the blog is that you’re afraid that someone is going to see the last name and think that it’s you. Don’t worry Dad, none of your stupid psychiatrist friends have EVER had any time to read anything I’ve written before, and the only way that they’ll find out about it is if you try to apologize for me before they see it, or try to send them a link, which is NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE, because you don’t know what a link is.
But we both know that you’ll never say another word about my writing to me, or to anyone you know. Vacourslon edict REWARDS good behavior by paying attention to it, and PUNISHES bad behavior by ignoring it. So to all of my loyal readers (AND DAD I HAVE 2567 UNIQUE VISITORS THIS WEEK ALONE, NOT THAT YOU WOULD EVER KNOW WHAT THAT IS OR WHAT IT MEANS) this blog is bad behavior and will be ignored by the BIGGEST IDIOT that has ever fathered a son. And yes, I still love my father, and even though he refuses to participate in my life, I will not ignore him when he’s old and sick and needs someone to give a crap about him (and don’t think that Zo is going to take care of you dad, because she’s already told me that she’s not). If there’s one thing that I’ve learned (that you never had time to teach me), it’s that “it doesn’t matter who loves you, as long as you love someone”.
And yes Dad, I lifted that from LUCY AND CHARLIE BROWN, something else that you never let me read.