So, my stepmonster is auctioning off my father's things, and I find myself bidding on important things from my childhood. No matter how you slice it, that's fucked up.
I haven't spoken to my father in 16 years, despite many attempts. I just found out that he's been dead for a couple of months. I thought I was ready for that, but I am not so ready as i imagined...it's a sad, confusing time.
While I am in no way prepared to be a grandfather, that pales incomparison with the degree to which my son is unready to be a father, which is thoroughly overshadowed by the degree to which his girlfriend is unready to be a mother.
You know who should be running the country? The engineers who design IKEA furiture. Those fuckers have it going ON!
I don't know why I hate Sundays so much. I get tense, short-tempered and generally not nice to be around - I've been like that since I was a teenager.
It's getting old.
It's getting old.


