Need a pep talk? I bet you do. Don't care for profanity? Don't read this.
I'm angry. And I've spent 48 years trying to control that anger. But now it's out. Things have come to a head. This blog post is going to sound unlike me. No whisk(e)y...no deep, wise, self-absorbed life lessons...no sympathy. It'll probably sound more like lyrics to a punk rock song. It's definitely going to sound immature and dramatic, but immature, dramatic times call for like responses. Here we go. If anyone questions your self worth...Come at them with more fucking self worth than they can fucking handle. Lay a motherfucking mushroom cloud of worth on the fucking situation. Don't sulk. Don't allow your confidence and your positivity and your ethics to be diminished. Fuck that shit. I'm a stay-at-home dad. Question that, motherfucker. I dare you. I double dare you. You think that's a woman's job? You think I don't work? You think I'm lazy? You think I sit around in my bathrobe all day eating motherfucking bon-bons and drinking wine? I'm the best stay-at-home dad there is. I'm a mac n' cheese making motherfucker, motherfucker. You want to play ball? Go to the lake? Snuggle? I am a fucking ninja at this shit. Skating lessons, baseball practice, dance, swimming, school volunteering, playdates, singing lessons, softball games, science fairs, bike parades. Take your judgement and stick it up your asshole. And from my kids: "Go fuck yourself." I also make barbecue. Don't like it? You got no taste buds, pal. Please leave and go eat shit instead. Don't think I can succeed in the barbecue industry? I'm gonna be the motherfucking Monarch of BBQ. The best you've ever tasted. And here's some free beer to wash it down with, asshole. Don't let anyone EVER fuck with your worth. Your dreams. Your drive. Your life. Pep talk. And please understand right now...and I don't care who you are...close friend, relative, neighbor...if you ever come at me with this 2nd Amendment bullshit/Obama's gonna take our guns/guns aren't the problem/the school shooting COULD'VE BEEN WORSE horseshit, there's a good chance you are going to get a gut shot from my right fist. Maybe my left. You won't know until it happens. My nephew's school was just on lockdown because of a gun threat. SWAT teams, cops, kids locked in their rooms, teachers screaming. If you don't think that's a problem, I will fist fight you and I will win. Anger issues, remember? If you don't think gun violence is problem, then we have issues I'm afraid. And that's too bad--because if you're reading this, there's a good chance I kind of like you. So cowboy, you can take your so-called debate that you have inside that dusty, brainless skull of yours and give yourself a fucking enema with it. Don't let this get swept under the rug again. AGAIN. Fight for common-sense gun laws. Fight hard so deranged men can’t go to motherfucking K-Mart and buy a fucking arsenal. So teenagers can't shoot up my daughter's school. That is a problem, you braindead fucksticks. My kids go to school. My sister, brother-in-law, close friends, and relatives are teachers. So fuck off with whatever argument you think you have. Because you don't have a leg to stand on. And I will punch you. Pep talk. I am clearly very emotional right now, and that's okay. It really is. When life gives you lemons, you shove those lemons up their ass. No sulking. No complacency. Just get mad and awesome and fuck shit up. I know you have it in you. I will be okay, and you will too. Whether it's personal shit that's eating at your soul...horrible, preventable violence that's got you in the dumps...or maybe something else, just remember that I am a badass sonofabitch, and you can be too. You just gotta believe, pal. And if you need help, just let me know. Me and ghost-dog, Cliff are happy to help. We're good at problem solving. God help us all. Pep talk. fin.
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AuthorI am Earl. Archives
May 2024
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