Honestly factual truths

I have been getting reports from my team that there is some debate over the truth of my posts. I would like to put a stop to this right now.
I AM NOT A GODDAMN LIAR GODDAMMIT!!!
If that doesn’t clear things up for you, I am also prepared to provide captions from a conversion I had with a character witness to verify my honesty.

Ryan – “Hello C.W. and thank you for taking the time to speak with me.
Character witness – “Hi R. It’s no problem really, anything I can do to help. I’m never too busy at this time of year.”
R – “Excellent! Then I won’t be interfering with your other engagements.” “Are you aware of the rumors pertaining to my personal credibility?”
CW – “Rumors?” “Someone thinks you are deceiving them?”
R – “Yes, there have been some stirrings about the possibility that I am not being particularly honest with my posts.”
CW - “That’s just silly, you’ve never been anything but honest with people.” “I can’t believe anyone would actually think that you aren’t being truthful.” “I haven’t even ever known you to embellish the truth!” “If you need any references, just let me know.”
R – “I thank you for your comments.” “Hopefully, I won’t need references.”

Now that we have cleared that mess up, everyone will know that everything I post is solid and factual. There are no embellishments here, only truths.

Shploosh!

I have recently come into fatherhood. I must say that there really is no way anyone can prepare for the reality that is being a parent. You hear a lot of encouraging stories from parents to make sure that you’ll get through everything as have other parents with no experience. Well… No one, and I mean this, NO ONE prepared me for what happened when my little girl was born. So I would like to assist in this with my experience;

While planning for a little one, I was the one that wanted a girl. I was the only person that was hoping for a girl, as there are already an overflow of estrogen in my family. You can imagine that I was excited when we discovered the little “turtle like bulge” meant that I was going to get my way (as usual I must say). Ok, now, let’s just skip all of the details up until the actual event. You can hear people talk about pregnant women and their crazy antics elsewhere. (My wife was absolutely perfect during the whole affair. You would never have known she was pregnant.)
Ok, so here we are in the hospital, my wife has already had an epidural, on top of other happy fun time cocktails. Despite this, there are still three of us holding her down in her supposed child bearing agony. Seriously ladies, do you have to make such a fuss about it? Everyone has had the crap that was too big to come out without a bit of pain and tearing. Just deal with it, it’s not that bad. So, we are humoring my wife and trying our best to appear sympathetic to her “labor”. The doctor is crouched and prepared to receive the pitch. Three pushes and one audible *sound effect removed by censors* later, the doctor asks if I would like to cut the cord.
Let me take a second here to explain that I’m no fool. My wife, who I have already expressed is a drama queen, has just gone through the required 9 months of duty for this child, and the doctor wants to know if I would like to take a pair of scissors and cut the cord (which is connected to the baby) and possibly risk being the cause of the baby bleeding to death. I would never hear the end of it! Can you imagine the nagging I would get? “HELL NO!” and I looked for the closest person to throw over the grenade. My sister gladly took the task and sliced up my newborn.
Ok, now that all of the buildup is done and the baby is here, the nurses have cleaned her up and she’s ready to be held, they pass her to me. This is the first time I thought “no one could have prepared me for this”. You see, this is because no one tells you what you are supposed to do if you have an ugly baby. I don’t mean the “oh she’ll grow out of it” homely look. I mean the “That’s great, you passed me an afterbirth burrito, now where is my baby?” kind of ugly. I’m a logical guy, so I know right off that dropping the baby to puke is not an option because of the nagging which will ensue from my wife if the baby hits the floor. Knowing this, I did the only thing that one can in this situation and I puked on my newborn baby. No problem really, everyone in the room just chalks it up to nerves. “Dad must be nervous and have the jitters.” Nerves. Right. No, I was disgusted, heartbroken, and frightened all at the same time. I had to suffer through 9 months of a pregnancy for Gollum? Fuck that! Now I’d gotten pretty pissed. I chucked the lump of “baby” to my wife and just said “great job, you baked up a mongoloid loaf.”

Well, it’s been some time since then and I have had a while to get used to the whole thing. I love my wife. I have even learned to love my “daughter”, Steve. I do not love having to list our daughter as a pet for booking purposes. I do not love taking family pictures and being told that it was a good idea to bring the potted plant for scenery. These things I will never love. I may stop resenting my wife for the unpleasant surprise one day, but that is not today.

I hate you.

I don’t like having my thoughts on display in a public avenue for onlookers to peruse. I can’t stand the idea of shamelessly whoring out my own internal ramblings for entertainment purposes. Likewise, I despise anyone who would actually take the time to read such ramblings on. The very concept is repulsive to me. It is because of these dislikes, that I will never have anything to do with personal websites built for the sole purpose of providing an outlet for such things. I will not create, operate, or provide content for such a site. I can easily say that I hate the people that do create and publish said content. These people are often seeking self assurance through attempts at wit and grammatical superiority. This is doubly so for people that dissect someone else’s work with the single objective of self gratifying, masterbatorial ego stroking. Let me offer my suggested alternatives to these activities;

-Have a debate with a dog. Whenever the dog interrupts you, rip out one of its nails with pliers.
-Arm-wrestle a baby. After you win, poke it in the eye.
-Challenge a paraplegic to a foot race.
-Go to an amusement park with a midget and only ride the attractions with height requirements.
-Visit retirement homes and express how old everyone is. Explain to them why it sucks to be so old. Offer to perform oral sex on them.
-Offer compliments to cancer children about their hair. Before they can respond to you, punch them in the face and laugh at them for being bald and believing that you like their hair.
-Go the grocery store. At the checkout lane, insist that you don’t need a bag. Smash your canned goods into the would-be bagger’s face and call him a bag-tard. Bonus points if it actually is a bag-tard.

The point is that there are other options when looking for something to make oneself feel secure. People should Never stoop to posting their thoughts online, or reading other people’s thoughts online.

I hate you.
I hate me.

Now, tell me how brilliant I am!!!