Father’s Day

No pics of my dad because he doesn’t want them on the Internet. The only ones I have of him are family photos, and I look ridiculous in all of them so fuck that. You all can just look at this one.

My father called a few days ago to talk to me about the van. The original Shaggin’ Wagon is about 11 years old and has fewer than 80,000 miles on it. It’s a pretty sweet inheritance.

And then he started to talk about how he wants to meet any guy I’m seeing.

We can meet him together when you’re there to protect him, or I can meet him by myself when he’ll have to handle me alone. I’M NOT GOING TO LET MY DAUGHTER RUN OFF WITH A BOY I DON’T APPROVE OF!

Real talk: I have never heard my father say anything like that. He lets me handle my shit unless if I ask for help. I guess I didn’t have to deal with Pops reaming any of the guys I was seeing because he was a continent and ocean away. Now that he’s only a two hour plane ride away… Yikes.

I assured him I wasn’t running off with anyone, but there was still an edge to his voice. That old codger… I hope I’m like him when I’m his age.

I better batten down the hatches because I know I’d come packin’ heat.

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