A while ago I was at a hotel in Jacksonville, Fl for my job, a job I fucking hate. I work so I can pay child support in order to do the right thing. I do love my kids, but 60% of my income isn’t quite fair. The circumstances are long, drawn out, complicated and all the shit nobody really wants to hear about.
I do wish I could grow bigger balls, big fucking donkey balls and scream “fuck the world, fuck you job, fuck you bosses,” just a guttural fuck off to everyone and everything that pisses me off.
But unfortunately, there’s something implanted in my brain that stops me from such spontaneity and downright irresponsibility, stops me from picking up the crack whore on the corner, stops me from ingesting meth, stops me at beer 6, stops me from cheating on my wife, stops me from slapping the fuck out of people when they really deserve it, stops me from trying to fly from every bridge I cross and keeps me only smoking pot occasionally.
I curse my parents for the genetics that made me scared to fuck up, scared to take chances, scared to find a realness in the world, instead I keep punching clocks like the trained monkey I’ve become, I keep accepting checks, I keep saying “yes sir”, “no sir” to the very people I despise.
And then I thank my parents for raising me like a pussy, they did a good job, I’m 6 feet tall, 250lbs, bald with a huge goatee, people are terrified of me, little do people know that my hymen is still waiting to be slashed open so that I can for once experience life.