Moving on up

Well, I got the job. The interview went well Thursday. So things are starting to look up. But who knows what the future holds. Until i feel like blogging again....

Unfair?

I think it's probably unfair to have most of my blogs about my father's drunkenness, however, he is an asshole when drunk and says shit to piss me off and blogging about it is a just a way for me to vent, even if no one reads it....blogging helps get that shit out of my subconscious....kind of like the equivalent talking in psychotherapy.


Anyways, life seems to be going pretty slow these days...Why is it when life is going the slowest time always seems to be moving the fastest?

I have a job interview on Thursday, it will be interesting to see how that goes. Despite how much my job is going to suck it will be nice to start making some cash and moving out of here. I might as well put these degrees to use, the only cost me somewhere between 100-200 grand. Education is the biggest rip off in society....

I'll probably have a good entry about how the job interview went Thursday.

Lets post another video on here, I'll see what random video I have in my Youtube account favorites. Ok, I have 7...this video is funny.

His father was a drinker

Drunk Again.

Well he finished off the bottle tonight, he obviously must of had something else, because tonight he was pretty fucked up. More so than usual since he passed out at 10:30 pm (he is usually up to well past 12am). Maybe it was because he had more to drink or maybe he had a few valiums to go along withe cocktails. Who knows. He seems to be getting more drunk these days, tonight he was hardly articulate. My dad is not a happy drunk, he is not the kind of guy that is fun to be around when drinking, but I guess most alcoholics aren't.

Ever since I was young I remember my dad having a drink(s) at night. It always caused problems. He would be this great, nice, caring guy during the day. But then after work, or whenever he got home he would have a few. And then the Jekyll/Hyde transformation would take place. This nice, kind, gentle, caring man would turn into a hateful, spiteful, angry, arrogant, mentally abusive monster.

When I was a child he was probably drunk a lot, I just did not recognize it because I had no concept of what being drunk was. However, one of the first times that I cognitively recognized my dad as being blatantly intoxicated occurred when I was 16. My family went to a Labor Day BBQ or some type of summer party at a family friends house. He started drinking, and then began to eat doritos and other snack foods like a complete slob in front of everyone. He was throwing the food in his mouth like the Cookie Monster devouring a box of Famous Amos cookies, crumbs were flying everywhere and his fingers were stained orange from the power cheese on the doritos.

He began making inappropriate comments about some girls there who were around my age. I don't recall the exact things he said; its more his physical actions and how he looked that remember. However, one flashbulb memory I do have is the car ride home. I was driving, my mother in the passenger seat, and he was sprawled out across the backseats. While driving this van of the dysfunction he is constantly berating me on how shitty of a driver I am.

The next morning he apologized for his actions. Which was the one and only time he ever apologized for being drunk. Now I just assume he drinks so much that he forgets what he says or did when he wakes up.

He is 62 now and drinks more than i ever remember. I'm not sure how much longer this can go on. I only ever confront him about it when he is obliterated and does something to anger me. I want to confront him about it during the day when he is sober, I just don't have the balls. He will probably get offended and change the subject. But maybe I should just straight up ask him why he drinks so much at night.

Anyways, thats enough rambling for tonight. Don't worry, more great memories to come in the future.

Dad's reaction to election results.

This bottle was full before the results started pouring in.

My Body is a Cage

Its the night before one of the most important elections in my lifetime. I guess this would be a good time for a blog...Thanks to the two random people for the comments, its cool my blog was stumbled upon or whatever. Your words are kind....I like the Post Secert website ( http://postsecret.blogspot.com/), but i think it would be a little too gay to give my dad that book (I apologize if that statement offended any gays that may be reading this but even you would have to admit its fucking gay)

Anyways, back to the election of 2008.


I had a dream a few nights ago about this election. I'll keep it short and to the point because I hate when other people tell me about their fucking dreams.

Basically in this dream I came to the realization that both presidential candidates and vice presidential candidate Joe Biden are self-serving assholes. The only real person in this election is Sarah Palin. While I may not agree with her views on many issues at least she isn't afraid to say what she thinks. I mean fuck, we all know that McCain doesn't give a fuck about being pro-life. At his old age, he could care less about a womans right to choose. Fuck he was cumming inside strippers back in the 50's......He is just going to say whatever is going to get him votes from the base. But Palin, she flat out doesn't care what anyone thinks..... a woman can be brutally raped by a fucking German Shepard and she would want the Dogchild to be birthed. You have to respect that.

Anyways, I guess what I'm trying to say, is that all politics is all game to get votes, whatever image that is conveyed to the voters is a contrived image that has been worked on by a small army of advisor's and consultants, we never get to see who these politician's really are, or what they really think.....except for Sarah Palin.

Drunk Dad

There is one thing I am expecting from this blog-nothing. I guess its like an open diary that if anyone stumbles upon they may find interesting. However, most of the time its just going to be projectile vomit of my thoughts and irrational feelings at the moment of typing.

My dad seems to be drinking more and more. Last week I saw him finish an entire 750ml bottle of Jamison in one night. Tonight, I saw him pretty much clean out another bottle of whiskey. He passed out on the chair again around 10pm. I wanted him to sleep in the chair so hopefully he would wake up, in a semi-sober state, and see what a mess he is (with his glass of whiskey next to him and his dirty plate of food). But, i didn't have the heart to let him sleep on the fucking chair. I woke him up and made him go to his bed. Its pretty sad watching a 250+ pound 62 year old man stumble as he tries to make his way upstairs....I need to get the fuck out. I thinks he drinks because he is scared, he lives in fear, he numbs the pain every night with the bottle, the nights he doesn't drink he probably has taken Valium, but there aren't many nights he doesn't drink. I'm not certain what he is trying to numb through the booze. I'm sure its a combination of everything from financial failure, embarrassment, mortality, loneliness, etc. Its amazing how as a child through till about the age of 19 I saw my father as a great successful man and today I can hardly stand to be in the same room as him when he drinks. Bottoms up dad, this one's for you.