Funk Jankins, Aug 26, 2005
My Dad wants me to learn some responsibility; he�s fed up with my shenanigans. I have been unemployed for two years and dropped out of college a year ago after one semester of study, with straight A�s by the way. The last time I saw my Dad he told me that can�t be doing this squatting stuff no more because it�s unsafe. I told him that that wasn�t an issue for me and that I refuse to keep a job because I know that working I would not be happy. When I refused to comply with his demand he told me that he was going to stop dumping buckets of money on me like he had been and start holding me accountable for all my debts to him that I accrued while traveling (and other debts from when I was in high school) which all adds up to about five hundred dollars; right now in my pockets I have a food stamp card that has been cancelled, a few cigarette butts, my ID card, a yellow crayon and an outdated Muni transfer, but no money. My Dad has bought two new cars in the last year and seriously doesn�t need the money he says I owe him, that�s why I know he�s just trying to teach me a lesson, the ugliness of which was portrayed in a dream I had recently:
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So I am walking through a parking lot, in between rows and rows of SUVs, being followed by somebody who backs me up against a wall. I turn around and there is my dad, ten feet tall, robotic face and light radiating from his head; he is wearing tight pants, the crotch of which is at my eye level.
�Do want to be my vagina lover?� He asks.
�Daddy, what�s a vagina lover?�
�Someone who doesn�t pay their debts is a vagina lover.�
His mango sized vagina throbbing beneath his pants.
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