Today I come before you not with one of my funny little stories... or hilarious as some people may have called them, a compendium of borderline genius wit, is how this one guy almost referred to them, a veritable treasure trove of brilliant satire are some words that I just put together, a modern day Mark Twain, channeling Shakespeare with a generous dollop of Steve Martin thrown in, Monty Python blended up and splattered on your computer screen, the unholy love child of Dave Barry and Douglas Adams, even though boys can't have babies with each other, and neither one is gay, that we know of, and one of them is positively un-alive, but if they had a child, I would be… uhm, the point is, I have written lots of LOL inducing pieces of prose, but this, I hesitate to tell you, is not one of them, this is a heart breaking tale of woe. A sad, sad plague, that is, well… plaguing our world.
Back in the Depression era, it was common for destitute parents to leave their babies on the doorsteps of churches and orphanages. Parents, unable or unwilling to care for them any longer, would give their children up to local charitable organizations. It falls to me, to alert the populace that this tragic practice is once again rearing it's ugly head. Perhaps because of the recent financial crisis, or maybe due to the continual weakening of our moral fabric, parents are once again leaving their offspring on welcome mats, with nary but a note and the clothes on their backs. I know firsthand of this cataclysmic betrayal, because it happened to me.
If I try really hard, I can almost remember my parents. In my mind they were good people, although I have this impression that they yelled a lot. I'm not sure why they decided to give me up, but it has been a thorn in my soul ever since. It is horrible going through life not knowing who you are or what your life could have been. But the internet is an amazing detective, and I was able to track down my birth-parents with just a little Googling. I showed up to their house on a Sunday afternoon, and walked up to the door, to hopefully get some answers. I rang the door and a an elderly man came to the door.
Yes. May I help you?
I hope so. I am your son.
That's all you have to say?
Listen. What do you want? Football is on, I'm busy.
I want answers. Why did you abandon me? Didn't you love me?
Well, we loved you at first. But then it just all became too much.
It just became too much?
Yes, we were forever feeding you, and giving you bottles, and feeding you some more. And you kept waking us up in the middle of the night, and you were such always such a mess. Oh, and you smelled just awful.
You're a monster.
Don't judge me, you aren't in my shoes, you don't get to judge me.
Do you have any idea how painful it is getting through the day?
I know you're a pain in my ass. Now go away, and don't come back.
Wait. Wait. Don't close the door.
What?! The game is on.
You may not be able to give me answers I want, but at least I can have closure.
I'm going to closure the door in your face.
I may not understand why you did what you did, but I want you to know, I forgive you.
Oh great! That really means… uh, something.
One last thing before I go. You've caused me tremendous pain. The place you left me at? They never wanted me. They tried to crush my spirit, to change me, and it's been really tough getting through it. In many ways the pain is just as fresh as it ever was. In my mind's eye, it feels like it was just yesterday that you dropped me off on that cold concrete stoop.
It was yesterday, you idiot! I got tired of my forty year old dork still living at home. Playing video games, drinking my beer, sleeping til the crack of afternoon. I am embarrassed to admit you came from my loins. That's why I dropped you off at the employment office. Get a job you LOSER!
And that's my story. Of how I was abandoned by the people who were supposed to love me. And I just want to tell all of you prospective parents out there; if you choose to be a parent, you are a parent for life. You can't just quit because it gets hard, or your child is annoying, or he is middle aged and still living at your house and drinking your booze. On a completely unrelated note, is anybody looking to adopt a cute cuddly, slightly myopic, folically challenged, seen-his-better-days, adorable… Oh heck, it's me. Does anybody want to adopt me? If so, please leave your address in the comments section. Vegetarians and non-drinkers need not apply.
HILL BLOCKS VIEW IS DEAD.
...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. firstname.lastname@example.org
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Every year the Oxford dictionary adds several words or phrases into the official lexicon. This year it added Selfie. Turns out the actual definition is WAY different than what I thought it was. It doesn't involve your naughty bits at all. Speaking of, here are some other phrases/words that need to be added.
Self Abuse: This is what happens when a person with compulsion issues drives by a Volkswagen dealership and there is no one else in the car.
Friends With Benefits: A friend that gives you his tickets when he can't attend sporting events, hosts epic tailgate parties, always picks up the check at lunch, volunteers to be the designated driver, and always has your favorite beer in his fridge.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
There is nothing so annoying as being out in public when some jerk-offs phone starts ringing.
Hey buddy, I'm trying to drink a beer and watch the game here. What? Are you so important you can't answer that outside, you're such a… oops, that's mine. SHUT UP EVERYBODY, I gotta take this. Hey, what's up?
Hey, honey? What are you guys doing?
Drinking a beer, watching the game.
The kids aren't drinking are they?
No. I'd never let them do that… again.
It sounds pretty loud there, are they destroying the house?
Probably not. They're playing or something.
Probably. I'm not EXACTLY sure.
You don't know?
Well yeah, I'm at the bar. The kids are at home. It's not like I'm a bad dad or something, you can't bring kids to a bar. I assume they're doing something constructive. Maybe homework.
Hon. We don't have money for a babysitter. Or for you to be out at a bar. Plus, where did you even find a babysitter, anyway?
Who? Your Mom's not in town anymore. Is she?
No, not her.
Did your Dad come down?
Who? Your aunt? One of your cousins?
No. I barely even talk to my cousins.
Please God, tell me you didn't get your Uncle Harry.
Homeless Hobo Harry? Just how irresponsible do think I am?
Very. Who? Who did you ge… You left Sean in charge? We talked about this, he isn't even thirteen. He isn't ready yet.
I had babysitter's that were only thirteen.
Sean isn't ready, he lacks focus. When the TV or computer is on, he wouldn't notice if his brothers burned down the house.
I think that's an exaggeration.
That exact thing happened last month. The fire department showed up and everything. Put out the tree in the front yard.
Oh yeah, I forgot.
I can't believe you left Sean in cha...
Settle down. It's not Sean.
Oh sweet Lord. Not Evan. Please tell me not Evan. Oh God. Call the fire department. Call the police. Call the national guard. He won't be unaware while his brothers get into mischief, he'll be inciting it. Creating it. It will be Lord of the Flies. Or Clockwork Orange. Both at the same time. Oh holy crap, Paul. Our house won't be standing when we get home. It'll be Armageddon. It'll…
Easy there, worry wart. I would never leave Evan in charge of anything.
Who then, Paul? Who? It's not like you left Jack in charge.
Well, it's kinda like that.
Kinda? You kinda left a four year old in charge of his ten and twelve year old brothers? Kinda?!
OK. It's exactly like that.
Paul! How could you?
It's OK. Jack is extremely responsible for a four year old.
Just because he can get dressed by himself doesn't mean he's responsible.
Well, he is very bossy.
That's not actually a basis for being a baby sitter.
Jack told me it was.
And you listened to a four year old?
He's pretty convincing. He used his Jedi mind tricks on me.
No. You're just an idiot. Go home.
I can honestly say I've learned a valuable lesson about being a father from this experience. Never answer the phone when you are out drinking.