My pops is chillin' over in Ho Chi Minh where it's thunderstorming and 30 degrees. Perhaps 'chillin' isn't the proper term. That sounds a bit like weather I'd expect if Thor fell asleep during his watch, and Loki snuck in to change the thermostat. Oh Loki...
Seeing as to how I can't really go out and celebrate with ze fahja (outside of a Skype tea party later this afternoon), I'm a little bit jealous of all you folks who will get the opportunity to take your progenitors out for dinner, a ball game, have him show you how to fix your leaky toilet for the 23rd time this week, or whatever other wonderfully filial activities you have planned. Me? I get to play at hiding some information from the pops that would probably make him lose sleep for the next couple weeks (or at least give him incontinence for a day or two). Good job, mine dumbass brother. Way to ruin Father's Day for me. Seriously, 1997 called to remind you that you were 21 THEN, not now. Grow the EFF up. Anyways, that probably made no sense to those not in the know, so let's end on a happy note with the two things in common the old man and I have love of - BEER and PUPPIES!
And just for funzies, I dug up and scanned one of my favourite photos of the man of honour himself.
Have a good day with your Dads, folks!
No comments:
Post a Comment