It’s the
blog’s Father’s Day edition!!!
Yes, we know that
most holiday-themed things come before the holiday in question, but we ran out
of fucks to give. Our apologies.
We thought the
best way to honor and respect our father was to share his words of wisdom with
the world. His parenting has taught us many important life lessons (not
including things like class, grace, or femininity) and we are forever grateful
to him for that. For example, here was his take on the true meaning of
Father’s Day a couple years ago, when all 3 women in the household were ganging up and teasing him, and he got pissed at us.
“It’s
Father’s Day, which means I have total and complete pussy control up in
this bitch!”
Both of our
parents were extremely involved in our lives when we were younger. Whether it
was taking us to a soccer game at 8 a.m. in the pouring rain, attending our
choir concerts, or just helping us with homework, mom and dad were all over it.
Dad even coached both of our soccer teams, teaching us how to use our width to
outrun the other team and to knock other players over without getting
penalized. Over the combined 15 years, he became notorious for his sayings,
such as:
“You’re
aiming for the big metal thing with the net. Can’t miss it.”
"Ok...who did I miss...oh, I almost forgot about you. You're playing left-out. Ha!"
“How’d
they miss you for that World Cup, ref?”
“Who am I
missing? Forwards? Hell, we’re so good we don’t need them.”
“Woooeee!
Smell that cow manure! We’s gonna beat up on some farm girls
today!”
“I’m
sick of all this whining. I’m coaching boys next year.”
“They’re
running through us like grain through a goose.”
"I'm the all knowing Ayatollah, so you will play whatever position I tell you to play."
“Let’s
go out there and beat them like red-headed step children.”
“We sucked
so hard there was a breeze in China.”
Dad is a complete
troll*. When Sara was 6 years old, he told her that he and mom didn’t
want her when she was born, so they put an ad for her in the newspaper. Only
when no one else wanted her did they decide to keep her. Oh, and he didn’t
bother to tell her it was a joke until she was old enough to figure that out
for herself (okay, so I figured that out last year. So what? I bet there’s
plenty of common sense shit that you don’t know).
Or there’s
his Sunday morning routine. Mom wakes up early to make everyone a nice
breakfast…and then dad walks into the kitchen.
Dad:
Hey, are you whipping something up for breakfast? Do you want to go on a walk today? Are you okay?
Mom:
I’m fine, why do you ask?
*five minutes
later*
Dad: What's wrong? Why are you so cranky?
Mom:
I’m not cranky Brock. I’m fine.
*after Lindsay
walks in *
Dad:
Lindsay, don’t talk to your mother. She’s in a foul mood.
Lindsay:
Why?
Mom:
I’m not in a bad mood. I’m perfectly fine.
*right before mom
actually serves the food*
Dad:
Let’s see if your mother can calm down enough to not break the cabinets
off the hinges when she slams them shut.
Mom:
YOU KNOW WHAT BROCK? FUCK YOU! YOU ARE THE REASON I’M UPSET, YOU ASSHOLE!
Dad:
Jeez, I told you she was cranky, didn’t I? Your mother’s just a
total mental case sometimes…
But all of his
oddities and trolling aside, we do love our dad. He’s always been supportive,
loving, and encouraging, and we’d like to thank him for everything he’s
done. You’re a great father, Dad; so great that we might just consider
keeping you around for a bit longer.
No comments:
Post a Comment