Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Weekend with the Folks

I’m always wrong.

If I was afraid I might get Alzheimer’s some day and need one of my kids to put me in a nice care facility, I’d kiss their ass a little more.

Every decision I’ve ever made was wrong.

Any success I’ve ever had in life was either a result of their intervention or pure luck.

I would rather be deployed than visit my parents. You can shoot the enemy.

It is really, really hard to find alcohol on Sunday in Western Pennsylvania.

I don’t care how old and sick they get, there is no fucking way either of them is moving in with me.

Yes, I know I have a great kid. Because I am raising her the exact opposite to the way I was raised.

My parents will take any opportunity to complain about how hard it was to raise four kids.

My mom regrets the fact that I wasn’t born retarded because she got German measles when she was pregnant with me. She’d get more attention that way and the women at church would all talk about what a great mother she is for taking care of her retarded son.

I don’t owe them shit.

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