Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Daddy, I'm angry at you.
How are you? That’s interesting, but right now we need to focus on me because I’m angry at my DAD. As we all know, Father’s Day is coming up this Sunday, and while most kids will be with their dads playing baseball in the park, taking bumper car rides, or giving each other big hugs—my dad will be busy IGNORING ME! What’s his stupid problem anyway? He’s the worst dad in the world! And it’s been this way ever since the minute I was born. I mean, what kind of dad allows a baby to be born in a stable?! There’s freaking animal poopy everywhere! (Pardon my French.)
And did I get toys from those “wise men” that my father sent? No, but I did get gold, frankincense and myrrh! Who were those creeps anyway? They could’ve been pedophiles or day laborers as far as dad knew! And do you know how many times dad visited me when I was growing up? Let’s see… hmmmm… how about ZILCH? But I could’ve lived with that. Really, I could’ve. Except that every time I did something totally on my own—such as my magician act where I walked on water or “raised people from the dead”—people would always pooh-pooh it because I was “the son of God!” HEY PEOPLE! I WORKED HARD ON THOSE MAGIC TRICKS! THE OCCULT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!!
But maybe I’m being too rough on my dad. Maybe he was just an ordinary deity who was busy with more pressing matters and simply didn’t have enough time to PULL ME OFF THAT CROSS AND REMOVE THE SPIKES THAT WERE HAMMERED THROUGH MY WRISTS!!
So if you happen to be reading my blog, dad? Don’t expect any cigars, or Old Spice aftershave this year for Father’s Day. Because I am very, very, VERY angry at you!
(By the way, can you send me your new address? Your card got returned in the mail.)