Thursday, September 28, 2006

Dear Racism

Dear Racism,

I hate you because I can't have an open dialogue about you with my black friends without them throwing up the you-could-never-possibly-know-what-I'm-going-through-because-
you're-a-stupid-white-boy defense.

I resent you because as a white person I can't speak my mind on the issue without inevitably sounding racist or insensitive.

I know that I will never know what it is like to be discriminated against due to the color of my skin, to have a visual cue that points me out to all those around me and marks me as Other.

I have never equated the prejudice that gay men receive with the racism that black, asian, latino, and other groups endure every day.

I acknowledge that people of color will have to work twice as hard to get half as far as I do.

I don't see racism in every situation and perhaps its because I'm white that I never will.

I can't see how racism will ever be overcome without people opening their minds, laying down their defenses, and actively engaging these issues in an open discourse without some strange sense of entitlement.

I believe the human experience is universal, that we can all benefit from each others experiences and that we all have the capacity to emphathize and understand one another if we choose to and if we chose to let others understand us. It is through this process, not through cordoning off the human experience because you're black and I'm white or you're straight and I'm gay, that the ignorance at the very root of hatred and prejudice and racism can be eliminated.

But I'm just a white boy so what do I really know anyway...

Hate Always,


Sunday, September 24, 2006

Stupidity Starts Early

Yesterday I went to see Jackass 2 and it was, quite possibly, the funniest movie I have ever seen. My cheeks hurt from evil laughing so much. Word of warning though, if you're not into feces, male nudity, and people doing bodily harm to themselves it may not appreciate the comedic value as much as I do.

Fortunately I preordered the tickets, because after visiting my friends' chain smoking buddies (they said they were going out on the balcony to smoke A cigarette... 6 cigarettes later...), we showed up at the theater with only 15 minutes before showtime. There was only one slight hang up at which occured at the little ticket counter where the person rips your ticket and mumbles what theater you're in (or tells you you have pretty eyes). This time I handed over my tickets to the man and he asked, "How old are you?"

I was so taken aback by the question I couldn't even think of how old I was. After some hesitation, a look of consfusion, and a shake of my head in disbelief, I managed to blurt out, "22". To which he gave me a unconvinced look me. My naturally instincts kicked in and I whipped out my wallet and was about tothrew my ID at him, when he stopped me with "It's cool man I belie' ya."

Good, because I would have been pulling my license out of your BRAINSTEM.

I guess I should feel complimented that I have such a youthful appearance that I'm questioned about R movies but I don't quite appreciate the idea that I look like some pimply prepubescent 16 year old.

By that point we had 10 minutes before showtime and by some act of Allah, we found great seats in the middle row AND they hadn't darkened the lights in the theater. I will have to sacrifice a virgin or something for that most glorious day!

In other news my cousin came over the other day and brought her baby with her (I think she's 2 years old). I pretended to be asleep until she left and now she thinks that I'm dead because I keep on blowing off all the events she invites me to so much so I don't think she's seen me in almost 5 years.

I'm not a fan of children as I've said in the past. They're not cute or particularly clever and they can't keep their pestilent little hands off me. I am NOT touchy feely at all. So rather than fighting off a little grub all morning I hid upstairs in my room and watched movie trailers. It sounds like the runt had a good time while she was here. She feasted on chocolate, played with a ball I didn't even know we had, managed to thoroughly harass my cat, and managed to steal a pumpkin out of my backyard.

When she went home she told her brothers all about her adventures, showing off, with great pride, the "apple" she had picked.

...isn't that just adorable.



Thursday, September 21, 2006

Professors Say The Darndest Things

First my archives professor says, "Weenie of the week" and reccomends drinking after doing a lot of records management then my technology professor says we're going to start a daisy chain* in class. Now picture me giggling for a half an hour after the fact.

I've had a rather boring week. All I've done is work, go to class, and whore myself for this festival I'm planning. I put up fliers all over the building and our dutiful cleaning people had them torn down by the next day. A few survived their genocide which is my middle finger to them. Screw you for doing your job!

The publicity front is still going strong. I was able to make several notable classroom announcements. In one I promised to do a jig if people showed up, in another I may or may not have insulted my professor. I've got one more class to hit up and then I'll be done completely. Debating what ridiculous thing I'll say next... perhaps offers of candy and sexual favors.

On the car front, I've narrowed my car choices down to a Honda or Toyota (which many folks have recommended). I like to think those cars are higher quality because Japanese people are tiny and can get their tiny hands into places American born manufacturers can't. My new debate is whether I should buy a car because it's fuel efficient or because it has all wheel drive.

Sure there's the risk of driving recklessly in inclement weather, but only 30 bucks a week on gas... fantastic.


*For those of you who don't pride yourself on knowing dirty words and phrases here is a definition for you by our good friends at

"Often found in porn, a phenomenon where multiple female participants perform cunnilingus on each other in a circular formation, permitting each participant to both give and recieve oral sex simultaneously."

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Debt Is My Friend

When your car stalls... on the highway... for the fourth time... in this past month and a half, a lot of things run through your head, namely oh Christ this thing is going to be my grave!!!!!
After you've safely pulled over to the shoulder and avoided certain death, the very next though you have is that you should seriously consider investing in a new mode of transportation. What I want, ideally, is something that is cheap, fast, and fuel efficient.

Just like me... wait what?

Rocket packs and scooters aside, I am going to have to buy another car for my commute which means I magically need to find money. I've got several things going for me. One being that higher education will be my creditor (hooray for being a student... hooray for my university owning me for the next 10 years of my life... if I'm lucky). I also have plenty of people willing to risk their credit scores to cosign for me.

Bad news is the blue book value for my car... I'll give you a moment to guess how much that is.

If you said 2000 dollars that's absolutely...

1,500 dollars off the mark.

Yes if I trade my car in I will only get 500 dollars. My parents spent just 700 just last week getting the electric full pump fixed. So I will have to find some sucker erstwhile dealership that is offering one of those 1000 bucks for any trade in deals!!! And then make sure I take someone with me who knows how to haggle over a car price.

My parents are not an option. Between them they don't have a single argumentative bone in their entire bodies. So it looks like it is up to me, Your Hero, to do the dirty work. Only problem is I have no clue how to haggle.

My idea of lowballing someone would be to slap a sock full of pocket change on the desk and demanding I won't pay a penny more. When that fails I can use the change sock as a formidable negotiation tool. So far my research has turned up unhelpful results because frankly I don't know enough about cars to realize when someone is dicking me over and when their offer is legit.

"The radio comes standard? Begone with you snakeoil salesman and practice your charlatan brand of car dealersh... oh You mean standard mean it's already included in the price of the car? Heehee lets be friends."

They would smell me coming a mile away. That and because my car probably broke down again on the highway and I had to walk there.

I'll have to recruit a negotiater. Now who could that be...


Thursday, September 14, 2006

So Over Him

My former pretend future husband who doesn't know it yet keeps going on and on about how he's in love with this new guy and apparently they hung out last night, got drunk off of wine and beer, and then snuggled.

And I can honestly say, I don't care! Enjoy your cuddlefest. I hope you two live happily ever after. Getting hate crimed for holding hands in the park. Having gaybies together. Don't forget to go to Massachusetts and make a legitimate man out of him.

Whatever! Do what you want. See if I care, which I don't.

Yeah you're pretty. And he's pretty. And I'm lonely. But I'm happy for you and wish you the very very best.

With absolutely no resentment at all.


At all.


Stop looking at me like that. I'm very happy I swear. It would just be nice to have a man to spice things up a little down there. Someone to talk to, to hang out with whenever I want, to attend parties with me that I don't really want to go to alone, to move into a one bedroom apartment with because looking for a roommate SUCKS.

Sweet, sweet roommate purposes.

Oh and I guess someone loving you unconditionally would be pretty okay too. And not at all superficial.

Bah whatever! I'm married to grad school right now so it doesn't matter.

That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.


Monday, September 11, 2006

Classy Class 3

My technology professor is a real idiot. Graduated from MIT with a Ph.D. in computer science and couldn't manage the computer console for the slide projector or the light switches. He did appreciate that my response to his "how scared are you of this class" question was"pants soilingly" so he can't be all that bad.

I'm excited because one of the girls in my class mentioned that her "partner" is a Microsoft Certified Specialist, which I will tackle in two directions.

First, I hope by partner she meant gay female homo lifemate because if she's some dumb feminist that refuses to say husband I will cockslap her in the name of the patriarchy. Second, it excites me that her partner is a Microsoft Certified Specialist because what that makes me think of are those late night commercials that have some blonde white woman talking about the glories of an MS certification from whatever online/correspondence course that's hawking and all the people touting the glories of knowing how to use Excel *finally* are the finest Mexicans pennies can buy. I hope she took the other opportunities those institutions offer like fashion design or a lab technician.

Love it!

So from here on out even if her gay female homo lifemate mexican girlfriend turns out to be named Philip, that is what I am going to picture regardless.

You should too.

I'm also excited because there's this other girl I suspect is Irish. I couldn't figure out though because the accent is very weak. I will have to keep talking to her until I feel comfortable enough to squeeze the question into a conversation/can determine whether she just has a speech impediment.

I can feel it's going to be a good year.


Sunday, September 10, 2006

I Hope College Never Ends

This weekend I visited my alma mater to see a few friends. The two most popular reactions I got were:



"Oh hey... wait... didn't you... graduate?" *Hugs*

My responses:



"I failed a class."

Just to fuck with'em.

The weekend was filled with tons of debauchery. I drank. I probably got second hand high. I eye raped my friend's friend's boyfriend. Sure this is just like any other day of the week for me, but I was away from my family and that's all that's important.

My favorite night had to be last night (or this morning depending on how you look at it) because it was by far the craziest. I didn't go to any of the parties I was supposed to attend or see most of the people I was supposed to visit but that didn't prevent me from hanging out with strangers and having an excellent time.

Loading up a goody bag full of boxed chardonnay (classy I know) and some beers (See: Coors Light, See: A beer aficionado's toilet water), I went with my friend over to one of her friends' houses. I didn't think I would know anyone that lived there but when we entered the house I saw HIM.

For convenience we will call HIM Brace Face because that's the first thing you see when you look at him (at least when he has his shirt on... I'll get into that later). Brace Face is obsessed with one of my friends who we'll just call My Evil Twin (which will also become integral to the story later).

The boys apparently had a party the night before and somehow tore through 80 beers in the process. Seeing as how they were alcoholless we decided to share our wine with them while we talked about pretty much anything that came to mind. They weren't the funniest group of people but I don't think anyone's friends are as funny as mine.

After awhile they got bored and wanted to do something and when they couldn't come up with anything they opted to find some pot and get stoned. My friend was already drunk off her ass by this point and was ready for anything. Not being a pot head I gave them my blessing to search some out. They ran upstairs to check around online. Meanwhile I peacefully laid back on these strangers' sofa, drank my beer, and text messaged all my friends who I had stood up that night (whoops!).

People seemed to be wandering in and out, all of whom I knew somehow so I chatted with them as I finished up my apology-a-thon. Soon I found myself alone and beerless so I went to the fridge to get another drink. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a very shirtless very hairy boy go running by. I thought it was weird but I was too busy trying to wrestle the top off my twist off bottle to care about this half naked stranger running through the house. It was then that I hear:


It was Brace Face. I'm not sure if he was high or drunk or just a little off his rocker, but before I know it I was in a bear hug with that hairball. When he released me from his tight grip I took a swig of my drink. He started to ramble at me:

"Now I understand that you're close friends with [My Evil Twin] right?" Indeed. "Well I think she is a really good person and I like to be friends with people that like to help others and she's that type of person. Now I don't know whether you and I share the same beliefs on things or not but I think you're a good person too." Clearly this boy knows nothing about me. "And just to let you know you are always welcome in my home. If you need a bed you can have mine or my roommate's or..." and proceeds to offer me the beds of every single one of his housemates.

I smile uncomfortably and tell him that's awfully kind of him. We shake hands and without skipping a beat he continues on his mad dash through the house and out the back door. I ran upstairs to tell his roommates. Later we would find out he went from there to a neighbor's house where kids were shrooming and ended up freaking them all out.

I climb the stairs and turn toward their room to see them scraping the inside of a bowl with a swiss army knife. They couldn't find anyone with pot so they were resorting to smoking the resin from smoke ups of Christmases past.

Your Hero: So I just shared a very special moment with [Brace Face] in the kitchen?

Roommate: Are we talking first or second base here?

Other Roommate: Oh God is he proselytizing again? He gets like this sometimes and goes into sermons with everyone.

After smoking a bowl or two of resin, they discovered a lock box under Brace Face's bed which they proceeded to try and pick with a lock picking kit (god only knows why they have one didn't ask, didn't want to know). After continually failing to pick the lock, I spoil their fun by proposing the idea that he probably has the key close by like perhaps in his desk (and lo and behold there's the key on his keychain in his desk). They open the lock box which doesn't sustain their interest for long though, just papers and an old baseball. They start scraping a different bong for old resin.

Soon Brace Face busts into the room and they hide the bong. He was apparently getting into some sort of debate with someone.

"The Bible is totally subjective!" Was the last thing I heard before Brace Face grabbed a Bible out of his desk drawer and climbed out the window onto the roof. He was furiously flipping through, stopping at random passages and reading them outloud. He then stuck his head back in the window to say, "The Bible... studies have shown the Bible to be consistent over time and objective!"

"Then why are there different versions?"

"That... bah! That doesn't matter I'm talking about..." and turns back to his Bible lost in thought.

At that point we shut and locked the window while he preached from the rooftop. A few minutes later we heard through the window that he was planning to get off the roof by jumping off the roof. We quickly open the window and tell him to come back inside. He refused. He pretty much had his heart set on jumping off the roof but his roommates grabbed him and tried to pull him back in before he reached the ledge.

"I'M JUMPING!" He yelled while struggling.

"Dude, you'll break your neck or hurt yourself!"

He started screaming something about how pain is relative when they all decided to give up and let jump off. A few minutes later he climbed back through the window and ran out of the room. He was later spotted wrestling someone to the ground outside.

The pot ran out I was finished my beer and crazy had left the building so I went home to go to bed.

These are the type of experiences you can only have at college.

I miss it.


And here's a sexy picture of me (from my eyes up). Enjoy boys and girls!

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Guide To Love

Goods news! Princess Gary is fixed!

700 dollars later!


Otherwise life is good. Classes are going well. Work is great. Friends are excellent:

Your Hero: Yeah I don't get people that are happy to see people all the time, sickos!

PseudoLesbian: They learly have never worked in the servie industry.

PseudoLesbian: Sorry about my spelling, I am unable to find my extra keyboard with all 26 letters.

Your Hero: Haha it's okay.

Your Hero: CCCC

Your Hero: Jeal-ous?

PseudoLesbian: You are an unt.

In most recent developments one of the people that I talk to on myspace has officially declared his love for me and apparently is dismayed because I have yet to show any love in return.

Here are a few things you should know about Your Hero if you are trying to court him. I'll wait for you to grab a pad and pen.

Firstly, I hate when people readily throw out I love yous and compliments like free candy at a 4th of July parade. It cheapens the meaning. The only times you will ever see me express my true feelings for someone is when I am highly intoxicated (spirits go in truth comes out) or someone is upset. When I give out a compliment or an I love you to my friends they act like I have just given them the Ark of the Covenant. I like that.

Secondly, I am not going to fall in love with you simply because you talk to me online. I have talked to too many of my friends' friends online only to meet them in real life and realize they are boring and can't carry on a good conversation. Or worse they're hard to look at.

Thirdly, I survive on a steady stream of chocolate, junk food, and human misery. If I don't die of some sort of congestive heart failure by the time I'm 25 I am donating my body to science, because I am a friggin' medical wonder of the modern world. The way to my heart is definitely through my stomach and while I'm typically a fussbudget - yummy food makes me ecstatically happy. And when the Missus is happy, everyone is happy!

Fourthly, a good insult goes a long way with me. I am a trash talking hobag and if you can keep up we will be friends for life! Added props if you can zing me really well. If so, I'll probably let you have your way with me.

In summary, I want a man who will plump me up, lay me down, and degrade me.


I am a seriously sick individual.


Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Yet Another Reason To Switch...

McAfee Employee: Hello, [My Hero]?

Your Hero: Hello?

McAfee Employee: This is Bob calling from McAfee Virus Projection.. prodec.. Protection!

Your Hero: Haha Hi Bob.

McAfee Employee: We recently noticed that your virus scan service with us is going to be out of date and wanted you to be aware of the cheap deals we have running right now so that you can get the protection you need at an affordable price.

Your Hero: Well I don't have that computer hooked up to the internet anymore and have a laptop now.

McAfee Employee: Well is your laptop protected with McAfee?

Your Hero: Umm no... but... I have a Mac.

McAfee Employee: Oh... so you don't really need it then... uhh... heh... well... if your... family needs good virus protection!

Meanwhile I start laughing because I just got a telemarketer to admit I don't need his product and in the process he starts to chuckle while doing his spiel because I'm giggling the whole. I admire his recovery with the whole family line of questioning though. He was very good!

In other news, today I had my second class and it was very easy. The teacher basically has everythng she says online so that leaves me plenty of time do things like... oh I dunno... compose blog entries on my laptop during class. Wee!

Good times.


Monday, September 04, 2006

Did I Actually Just Read That?

I was just doing one of my usual blog tours and sometimes I like to play a game that's like six degrees of separation where I see how long it takes for me to make my way back to my journal.

As I was clicking around, I stopped on one site because there was a pretty boy on the front page I was drawn in by the title which had something to d0 with with white collar people. (Little known fact about me - I am FASCINATED by social class).

The entry was by no means the social commentary that I imagined it to be. What unfolded was a story about two lawyers on a crowded train, to God knows, who gave eachother "the eyes" and proceeded to give each other... what's the word agan? ah yes FOOTJOBS.

Now does it take a foot fetishist to understand how that works? Perhaps I'm just not imaginative enough because there's only one way I can imagine that being possible:

and it ain't pretty.


P.S. I couldn't find a good picture of a chimp in a business suit but that's okay because I didn't want people to get confused and think it was an actual lawyer. 2;^)

P.P.S. I found this picture in my quest:

How anthropomorpheriffic! See how he holds that gun? Just imagine how he'd work a...

Friday, September 01, 2006

Oh What A Night

So my sister came back from a harrowing experience on the road. Apparently something is wrong with her Jeep's tires and she was swerving and hydoplaning all over the place. This was unfortunate because she had to get the cake and balloons for her coworker's birthday party. She asked if she could borrow my car or if I could drive and not wanting to go out in this hurricane weather I said, "Drive away!"

Right before she was about to leave though she said, "Are you sure you don't want to go?" which was basically her way of begging me to drive because her, and I quote, "nerves were shot from being on the road before". Being the good brother that I am and the big loser without plans on a Friday night, I willingly assented. So we drove to the Safeway to get the cake, where a toothless bakery cashier took our order.

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: What's the order?

TheSister: Its a half chocolate/half yellow quarter inch pan cake that says, "Happy Birthday Luke!"

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: We couldn't do half and half.

TheSister: Oh okay well which half is it?

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: Ummm... I think it might be yellah. (Editor's Note: His favorite is chocolate). And we couldn't read the handwritin' on the order and you said his name was Lake?

TheSister: No it's Luke!

(Bleedin' Gums Murphy opens the cake to reveal the cake says neither Lake nor Luke but Lucky)

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: Oh see I thought there was a C in there so I told them to put Lucky.

TheSister: Is there any way you can just scrape off the wrong letters and put an E on there?

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: I ain't a decoratah!

TheSister: Oh... well thats fine... but umm... is there any way we can get... a few dollars off because the order was kind of screwed up.

That's when I wanted to break down and cry "This is the worst birthday I've ever had!" just to see if we could get it for free but I refrained myself and besides the woman did give us 4 dollars off which is pretty good I guess.

From there we drove to our local Party City and listened to one of the balloon inflators lament about being the only male employee working that night. As he complained about the women he has to work with and how he's about to up and leave this place so he can spend time with his babies, I snuck off to check out the costumes. I found a pretty spiffy pimp hat and some oversized rock star glasses which were fun to play with, and by time I got back he was still going on. One of the balloons (which had Superman floating in it - the advancements of balloon technology both thrill and excitement) cost about 15 dollars more than it should have.

As we were standing in line at the register I almost tripped a lady that was running back and forth with last minute items - not purposefully but I definitely wouldn't have picked her up if she had face planted in the Party City. In fact I probably would have gone and gotten one of those confetti cannons to celebrate... however, like the balloon, they were also overpriced so it would have been an expensive celebration of disregard for my fellow man.

From there we loaded the balloons into my car (only losing one along the way) and started to head home. It was then, on one of the busiest roads in my town, that the car stopped moving, the oil and battery light flashed on, and my breaks gave out.

Good times.

I tried to turn my car off and restart it to no avail so I slowly forced my little Princess Gary (that's his name he's a drag queen) to the side of the road so I wouldn't be blocking traffic.

My sister called my mom who was at home. She was being cranky and said call my father. My father said he'd be right over and to call AAA (the American Automobile Association, not to be confused with AA which I will also probably be a member of by time I'm done with grad school/all my car woes). I called AAA and the mental giant on the phone sounded really confused about where I was located even though I practically drew her a map with words. She then said, "Okay we'll send a tow truck to pick you up from the highway as soon as we can" and hung up. The only problem with her goodbye... despite the actual lack of a goodbye was that I WAS NOT ON A HIGHWAY!

So then I awaited the tow truck people to call. Soon after I received a call from the good people at AAA to inform me that due to the massive flooding (thanks Ernesto!) there would be a delay for the tow truck.

My father arrived before my mother (despite her being miles closer), but when she finally did arrive my sister ditched me to go celebrate this stupid birthday party. I told her to tell Lucky Happy Birthday.

Meanwhile my father sat down in my car and tried to have idle banter with me but I stopped him mid sentence because he had an enormous black hair protruding from his nose, not the nostril, I mean like on his nose. It was standing at attention and I couldn't hear a thing he was saying because that thing was flapping in the breeze. I informed him of the offending hair. He immediately started plucking at his nostrils. "NO NOT THERE." He started aimlessly thumbing at his nose.

Finally, not being able to stand this display any more I asked him if I could remove it for him. He said yes and so with my mighty thumb and index finger I yanked that sucker out and showed it to him. His response - "Ewww!"

Yeah. It looked like an eye lash hair.

From there he started randomly wiping at my fogged up windows which annoyed me because it would leave his finger prints all over it (I drew a smiley once 2 years ago which is still on my windshield to this day). I yelled at him to stop, then a few minutes later he started doing it again but this time to the side window. I asked him what he was doing.

Papa Bear: Just checking out my car.


Not normally one to take such a subtle hint, he got out of the car, slammed the door and got into his own car.

Nearly an hour had elapsed so I figured if I was going to be stuck in this car, I was going to make myself comfortable. I threw myself in the backseat of my car, which surprisingly I've never been in 2;^) and discovered an ashtray I didn't know existed. I then remembered I had a sleeping bag in my car and lined the back seat with it. For the next half hour I entertained myself by text messaging people and memorizing the numbers on objects in my wallet. I now know both my credit card and debit card numbers, my university ID number, the barcode number on my university ID, my AAA membership card number, and some long drawn out number on my drivers license.

Right when I was about to move on to some gift cards, I received a call from the tow truck driver. Now there is a debate going on about this tow truck driver. My dad thinks he was foreign. I think he was mentally challenged. The world may never know. Either way, the think tank over at AAA told him the wrong road and as I was explaining to him exactly where I was he somehow managed to miss the road I was on entirely. Some point later a AAA employee called to say there was some sort of break down in commnunication between me and the tow truck driving which again was either due to his poor mastery of the English language or his mental deficits (maybe a little of column A and B) so I explained again where I was and that I was in a neighborhood near an intersection of two major roads.

I get a call a few minutes later. The tow truck driver is at a Shell station ON THE ROAD I AM ON. He kept asking me whether he needs to go East or West so because the moon wasn't out, I located the North star using my training as a boy scout and was then able to determine THAT WAS THE STUPIDEST QUESTION EVER, I HAD NO FUCKING CLUE WHERE I WAS and asked him if he was at the Shell station near... and listed a ton of places. He had no idea he simply asked me "Right or left" so I took a 50/50 shot and said right. And Right I Was! (Yay double meaning!)

He soon arrived and then started asking me what was wrong with my car and I let my father field the questions from there. They threw around words like starter and alternator and autobots and decepticons. Whatever. I don't know what they said exactly but it was all very macho and stupid and it was raining so I got into my dad's car and waited for them to finish their car knowledge pissing contest so we could drive the car over to where it will hopefully be fixed (or more hopefully declared dead so I can get a new one).

On the way over I suggested that my father tip the tow truck driver (because while I may yell at strangers with little prompting I am not an all together a heartless individual) and I also apologized to my father on the car ride back home. Sure my father may be a pain in the butt but he did drop everything and go out of his way to come pick me up, and with the many broken relationships my other gay friends have with their fathers I am grateful for that tiny shred I have with mine.

Even if that shred involves body hair plucking and ear piercing screams... I still love him and that's a fact.