Dear Dad,
I’m glad to see you are finally getting up off your ass and cleaning up the house that you have neglected for almost 20 years. I know you had to work for the Army during 15 of those years but still you couldn’t even do minor work around the house to keep looking nice. You finally cleaned out the back shed, wait let me rephrase that, I finally cleaned out the back shed under your constant yelling because I wasn’t doing it right. So after 2 or 3 hours of cleaning the shed out and throwing away all the junk and trash accumulated into it into a trailer so you could take it to the dump, you have the nerve to yell at me when you told me to put everything in the trailer. I’m sorry that I couldn’t read your friggin mind that you wanted me to put that stuff in the trailer you were taking to the swap meet, NOT the trailer of trash, you know the one I have been putting shit in for the last 3 hours. So fuck you for not being clear about which friggin trailer this shit was supposed to go in. You had no right to yell at me for tearing up $500 bucks worth of shit (so you say it just looks like junk to me), because you didn’t clarify what trailer this “valuable” junk was supposed to go in. I don’t mind helping you clean up the house, hell I've been doing it more than you have over the years, it’s practically my house since you haven’t done shit to it, but I'm not your personal fucking slave. If you want me to help you, you ACTUALLY need to do some friggin work too, not just stand around and yell at me because I’m not doing it right, no, no let me restate that , not doing it the way you want it done because any other way is the wrong way, because it isn’t your way. It’s your house you need to be doing 95% of the work not 5%, and making me do the rest. Get up off your lazy no good ass and do some work you asshat!
Love Your Son,
Grik
