I Am My Dad's Youth Biting Him In The Proverbial Butt

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Last night at dinner:

Dad: So, Porkchop, did you get a ticket today?

Porkchop: (knowing perfectly well he had read my blog and was inquiring as such)No.

Dad: Yesterday?

Porkchop: No.

Dad: (beginning to get puzzled) The day BEFORE?

Porkchop: No.

Pageant Barbie: Um, Dad, that was FRIDAY. SO old news. And a few tickets ago.

A Few Days Ago:

Porkchop: By the way, just thought I would let you know I am going to NYC at the end of the month. Just in case you would be wondering where I went.

Dad: To do? Why?

Porkchop: ToSellMyBodyOnTheStreetsToPayForCollege

Dad: (ignores me)

Two minutes later

Dad: So why are you going to NYC?

Porkchop: ToSellMyBodyOnTheStreetsToPayForCollegeAndPrehapsExploreCareerOptions

Dad: (eyes widen slightly) *silence*

A Few Weeks Ago:

Driving down the road, Dad mentions something about the beauty of speeding on the road we live on. Straight, flat and no cops.

Porkchop: It makes it quite simple to find out the top speed for all our vehicles.

Dad: That IS true

Porkchop: A even BETTER place to speed is the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, supposedly there are cops on there, but I never saw any.

Dad: Well, they won't stop you unless they REALLY have a reason.

Porkchop: I think 125 mph is a pretty good reason.

His one comfort is that I will one day have children. One day.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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