Dear Dad…

Dear Dad... A father's day message.

Dear Tom,

Hey, how ya doing? Thought I’d take a minute to introduce myself after 35 years…

My name’s Eric.

Oh, come on back…it’s not going to be one of those “Why’d you leave me daddy???” letters. Fuck you. You don’t deserve to know what kind of misery you caused.

How’s my mom? She passed away 11 years ago, thanks for asking. Her name was Dorrienne, in case you forgot (wouldn’t surprise me, “Mr. Military Studmuffin”).

Her biggest fear was my growing up to be a prick like you. Every year in school I used to have to make “Father’s Day” cards…didn’t have a choice. I simply spared her feelings by tearing the damn thing up and throwing it in the trash can at the corner…year after year.

Do I ever wanna meet you? Fuck no!

From what I figure, you’re pushing 70, trying to survive on your crappy army pension. You’d be nothing more than a financial burden on me..and life is pretty damn sweet from where I stand. Don’t need nobody holding me back (Sound familiar? What comes around, goes around, asshole.).

I don’t wish you pain and suffering… believe it or not. Quite the opposite. I wish you a niiiice long life… living in your trailer in West Virginia, eating cat food…alone. No kids to take care of you, no grandkids to slow you down from your active geriatric social life. Just the way you always wanted it.

Well, I’d love to continue… but it’s a gorgeous day out in the Poconos, and my kids want me to take them out and play ball. You really don’t know what you’re missing! :0)

Have a nice life….

Me

Eric Brooks

Musician, Programmer, Graphic Designer, Evil Clown - A thorn in the Internet's side since 1997 with no intention of stopping any time soon.

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Published by Eric Brooks

Musician, Programmer, Graphic Designer, Evil Clown - A thorn in the Internet's side since 1997 with no intention of stopping any time soon.

Disclaimer: The views expressed herein are solely those of Eric Brooks. They do not necessarily reflect those of his employers, friends, contacts, family, or even his pets (though my cat, Puddy, seems to agree with me on many key issues.). In accordance to my terms of use, you hereby acknowledge my right to psychoanalyze you, practice accupuncture, and mock you incessantly with every visit. As the user, you also acknowledge that the author has been legally declared a "Problem Adult" by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and is therefore not responsible for any of his actions.