So WTF??

So what the fuck happened, you ask?

You shine a tiny ray of hope into the dreary, humdrum void we call a life and then smack it away like a cupcake from the hands of a fat kid. You hook us in with your witty, insightful commentary on life in the good old USA and sore balls only to suddenly leave us cold and alone, too scared to ever face the cruel world again. Well fuck off, Bob!

Hey, get over yourselves people. It’s just a blog.

Besides, I have a really good reason for quitting and you’ll be sorry you bitched when you hear it.

As you may remember, shortly before I went off the air my “Mother” had found the site purely by accident. She lurked for a while, but then eventually talked to me about it. Well “talked” isn’t exactly accurate. Confronted is more like it.

She went off on this whole big thing about how I was falling apart and the blog was just more proof. She started yelling about my “raunchy” language and “life destroying” drinking and something else about “compulsive” gambling. I’m not even sure, because it seemed to go on forever. She went on and on about how I was in no condition lead my own life let alone be responsible for a family. Well “family” isn’t exactly accurate either since The Wife had already left me by this time, so it was just Pink and I at the house. But in my defense, I knew I did a pretty good job raising Pink to this point so I knew she could step up for her share of the cooking and cleaning.

Well about the end of fall, my “Mother” was already scheming with her bitch lawyer to take my little girl away from me. I guess she thought she could do a better job and you know how the courts hate a single father. I really didn’t have the money to fight them much, but as it turned out I didn’t need it anyway.

I’m heading to work one morning, late as usual and come to a red light about a mile or so from the house. Light turns green, I start out and get about halfway through the intersection when…and I shit you not…I get fucking T-boned by a fucking dump truck from some construction company that’s putting up condos down the road.

I really don’t remember much about the accident. I woke up in the hospital three days later with fourteen broken bones. I spent the next eight weeks in traction and the doc said I was lucky to be alive. What he didn’t know was that not only was I lucky to be alive, my luck was running particularly well that day my friend.

That dump truck that hit me was from the Johnson and Sons contracting which was doing pretty good, money wise, in the local area. My lawyer said just from that I should be set for life, but God bashed that eight tons of iron into the side of my car for a totally different reason. The dumbfuck that was driving the dump truck just happened to be my “Mother’s” bitch lawyer’s nephew. Do you need another “and I shit you not”?

Long story short, everything works out in the end. I get a shitload of money in the settlement. My “Mother” gets off my back and even The Wife comes back to me once she finds out my balls are lined with gold.

Which brings me to the blog. We just got back from the Virgin Islands and I thought, “I should really get Bob’s Bar and Grill back online.”

See. Aren’t you sorry you bitched?