Why I hate my father
If you happen to see my father walking down the street sometime (not literally, of course -- I doubt the fatass actually walks anywhere), you have my blessing to spit in his face. You might notice him and his wife, the Trashcan Troll, sitting in the front pew at Trinity Baptist Church on Sundays. That's because they need all the divine help they can get. You see, not only did "Dad" -- whose real name I won't type only because the Trashcan Troll would probably sue me, seeing as how her lawsuit against the taxi company isn't going so well -- financially ruin my mother by running up credit card bills buying frivolous shit for women he was fucking on the side, but now he's letting the Trashcan Troll fuck us out of our house.
When my parents divorced, they didn't want to pay a second lawyer to divide up community property, so they made a verbal agreement that "Dad" would pay the house note and cable bill. "Dad" went to Iraq, and left the Trashcan Troll in charge of his finances. She either squandered or stashed away over $40,000 that he made while there, never paid the house note on time, never gave me the money she said she would give me on time, and through it all, Mom and I couldn't even get a phone number where we could reach "Dad," because he'd left his balls back home with the Troll, and couldn't bear to face us without them. Sometime in April, Mom got a certified letter, saying that the house note hadn't been paid in five months, and that if she couldn't pay $2,500 by May 15th, the house would be repossessed, and we would be evicted. After numerous lies and evasions (they actually expected us to believe that their bank had electronically debited the funds from their account, but hadn't deposited them in the other account over a month later), the Trashcan Troll somehow produced the money, and made sure that everyone knew it by going to my mother's workplace, and announcing in the lobby, "Sherry, I paid your house note!"
About a week ago, the Trashcan Troll said she would help me pay a bill, gave me a bad check, and then lied several times about making it good. Of course, I knew she was lying, and went to their apartment to confront them about it, since I now have to pay $32 in NSF charges in addition to the $50 I originally owed. The Trashcan Troll was still at work, and Donnie and I caught "Dad," who's actually lost his fucking navel beneath layers of fat, looking at webcam porn, which he hastily exited out of when we came in. Naturally, he pleaded ignorance, and said, "The only time you come around here is when you want to bitch." Later, I recounted the story to Mom, and asked, "Does he think I'd want to fucking socialize?" He and the Trashcan Troll didn't even say fucking "Hello" to me when they brought my grandmother to eat at Ryan's the day my uncle died! I found out about that from Mom's mother!
Well, anyway, Mom got a letter later that night, saying the house payment is about four months delinquent again, and that if she doesn't pay $2,100 by September 11th, she'll lose the house. So, I drove right back over there, stomped up the stairs, and met the Troll at the door, where she was feeding her cats. She said, "You're back?! What are you doing back?" I produced the letter, and said, "Because we just got this in the mail. What's the excuse for why the house note hasn't been paid this time? I know there's a good excuse -- there always is." She said, "We don't have the money to pay the house note." I said, "And you didn't have a moment in the day in four months' time to call and tell us that?" She gave me an ugly fucking look, and said, "I talked to the woman at the bank today!" Every time she lies about a bill, the Troll has talked to someone at the relevant institution just hours ago, but somehow, when you call them to verify the claim, they don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Crazy! And why is she talking to someone at the bank, rather than to us? The first time this happened, Mom said, "If they'd told me in January they couldn't pay the bill, I could've taken out a loan or refinanced the house. Now that they've let it go for five months, I can't do shit about it." Well, now they've gone and done it again! So I said, "And how about the lie about the bad check for the hospital bill?" Naturally, the Troll had talked to them, too -- just that morning, in fact, and had made arrangements to pay the bill that day. Never mind the fact that I had also spoken to them that morning, and that no such arrangement had been made -- I made arrangements to take care of that this afternoon, so basically, I caught her in not one, but three lies.
Mom and my aunt used to go to school with the Troll, who looks like one of those Troll dolls people stick to their car windshields or carry around on keychains, and they said that no one could stand her because she constantly lied. Mom said, "She and your father make a perfect couple, because they're both incapable of telling the truth." I don't think they even know what it looks like! "Dad" always was a sucker for get-rich-quick schemes -- we sat through his Amway, flea market, and gold panning in Alaska flights of fancy -- and we believe he married the Troll because she has a multi-million dollar lawsuit against a shitty local cab company, and he wanted to ride her filthy housecoat-tail to fame and fortune. It's been six years, and that lawsuit has gone nowhere -- the cab driver said the accident was her fault, so the case has bogged down in court, and the Troll has had numerous surgeries that we're pretty sure were unnecessary in an effort to bolster her case. So meanwhile, the Troll, who, fittingly enough, was once married to a garbage man, has latched on to Dumbass like a parasite, and is draining him dry, but he's too fucking stupid to realize it or care. Donnie said, "Your dad reminds me of Charlie Brown. He's always got that look on his face, and she's like Lucy, always pulling the football out from under him. And then there's their fat little daughter, Peppermint Patty!" Yeah, Lucy made a small fortune charging five cents for psychiatric advice, which Charlie needed a lot of, and the Troll made a small fortune, too, by running a dead woman's name through the mud. She used to date the father of a friend of mine. This friend's mother died of a brain tumor when he was ten, and the Troll got hold of her Social Security number, took out a Discover card in her name, and proceeded to rack up about $17,000 in charges. My friend's father kept telling the debt collectors, "My wife's dead, and she doesn't have a credit card." Well, somehow, the Troll was found out -- I think a store came up with surveillance tape of her using the card -- and she begged my friend's father not to press charges because she was a "poor, single mom." She said she would pay back what she'd stolen, but of course, there's no honor among thieves. She scammed that man, and left him in debt for years, and now she's got a new sucker to feed off of, and thinks she's going to drag the rest of us down the toilet with her. Well, we'll see. Mom's going to talk to a lawyer, and the Troll hasn't heard the last of this yet. Donnie said, "Do you really think your life can get any worse? If you don't have a pot to piss in, just piss everywhere." Wise words, and one day soon, I will piss on the grave of the bottom-feeding cocksucker who spawned me. And as for the Troll... well, I might even take a dump on hers.
When my parents divorced, they didn't want to pay a second lawyer to divide up community property, so they made a verbal agreement that "Dad" would pay the house note and cable bill. "Dad" went to Iraq, and left the Trashcan Troll in charge of his finances. She either squandered or stashed away over $40,000 that he made while there, never paid the house note on time, never gave me the money she said she would give me on time, and through it all, Mom and I couldn't even get a phone number where we could reach "Dad," because he'd left his balls back home with the Troll, and couldn't bear to face us without them. Sometime in April, Mom got a certified letter, saying that the house note hadn't been paid in five months, and that if she couldn't pay $2,500 by May 15th, the house would be repossessed, and we would be evicted. After numerous lies and evasions (they actually expected us to believe that their bank had electronically debited the funds from their account, but hadn't deposited them in the other account over a month later), the Trashcan Troll somehow produced the money, and made sure that everyone knew it by going to my mother's workplace, and announcing in the lobby, "Sherry, I paid your house note!"
About a week ago, the Trashcan Troll said she would help me pay a bill, gave me a bad check, and then lied several times about making it good. Of course, I knew she was lying, and went to their apartment to confront them about it, since I now have to pay $32 in NSF charges in addition to the $50 I originally owed. The Trashcan Troll was still at work, and Donnie and I caught "Dad," who's actually lost his fucking navel beneath layers of fat, looking at webcam porn, which he hastily exited out of when we came in. Naturally, he pleaded ignorance, and said, "The only time you come around here is when you want to bitch." Later, I recounted the story to Mom, and asked, "Does he think I'd want to fucking socialize?" He and the Trashcan Troll didn't even say fucking "Hello" to me when they brought my grandmother to eat at Ryan's the day my uncle died! I found out about that from Mom's mother!
Well, anyway, Mom got a letter later that night, saying the house payment is about four months delinquent again, and that if she doesn't pay $2,100 by September 11th, she'll lose the house. So, I drove right back over there, stomped up the stairs, and met the Troll at the door, where she was feeding her cats. She said, "You're back?! What are you doing back?" I produced the letter, and said, "Because we just got this in the mail. What's the excuse for why the house note hasn't been paid this time? I know there's a good excuse -- there always is." She said, "We don't have the money to pay the house note." I said, "And you didn't have a moment in the day in four months' time to call and tell us that?" She gave me an ugly fucking look, and said, "I talked to the woman at the bank today!" Every time she lies about a bill, the Troll has talked to someone at the relevant institution just hours ago, but somehow, when you call them to verify the claim, they don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Crazy! And why is she talking to someone at the bank, rather than to us? The first time this happened, Mom said, "If they'd told me in January they couldn't pay the bill, I could've taken out a loan or refinanced the house. Now that they've let it go for five months, I can't do shit about it." Well, now they've gone and done it again! So I said, "And how about the lie about the bad check for the hospital bill?" Naturally, the Troll had talked to them, too -- just that morning, in fact, and had made arrangements to pay the bill that day. Never mind the fact that I had also spoken to them that morning, and that no such arrangement had been made -- I made arrangements to take care of that this afternoon, so basically, I caught her in not one, but three lies.
Mom and my aunt used to go to school with the Troll, who looks like one of those Troll dolls people stick to their car windshields or carry around on keychains, and they said that no one could stand her because she constantly lied. Mom said, "She and your father make a perfect couple, because they're both incapable of telling the truth." I don't think they even know what it looks like! "Dad" always was a sucker for get-rich-quick schemes -- we sat through his Amway, flea market, and gold panning in Alaska flights of fancy -- and we believe he married the Troll because she has a multi-million dollar lawsuit against a shitty local cab company, and he wanted to ride her filthy housecoat-tail to fame and fortune. It's been six years, and that lawsuit has gone nowhere -- the cab driver said the accident was her fault, so the case has bogged down in court, and the Troll has had numerous surgeries that we're pretty sure were unnecessary in an effort to bolster her case. So meanwhile, the Troll, who, fittingly enough, was once married to a garbage man, has latched on to Dumbass like a parasite, and is draining him dry, but he's too fucking stupid to realize it or care. Donnie said, "Your dad reminds me of Charlie Brown. He's always got that look on his face, and she's like Lucy, always pulling the football out from under him. And then there's their fat little daughter, Peppermint Patty!" Yeah, Lucy made a small fortune charging five cents for psychiatric advice, which Charlie needed a lot of, and the Troll made a small fortune, too, by running a dead woman's name through the mud. She used to date the father of a friend of mine. This friend's mother died of a brain tumor when he was ten, and the Troll got hold of her Social Security number, took out a Discover card in her name, and proceeded to rack up about $17,000 in charges. My friend's father kept telling the debt collectors, "My wife's dead, and she doesn't have a credit card." Well, somehow, the Troll was found out -- I think a store came up with surveillance tape of her using the card -- and she begged my friend's father not to press charges because she was a "poor, single mom." She said she would pay back what she'd stolen, but of course, there's no honor among thieves. She scammed that man, and left him in debt for years, and now she's got a new sucker to feed off of, and thinks she's going to drag the rest of us down the toilet with her. Well, we'll see. Mom's going to talk to a lawyer, and the Troll hasn't heard the last of this yet. Donnie said, "Do you really think your life can get any worse? If you don't have a pot to piss in, just piss everywhere." Wise words, and one day soon, I will piss on the grave of the bottom-feeding cocksucker who spawned me. And as for the Troll... well, I might even take a dump on hers.