Every year on Father’s Day, I sing the song to Alanis Morrisette’s You Oughta Know. Because my raw emotions of recent discovery that not only my father not only denied creating me at conception or after birth, but had the audacity to get away trying to burry the body in the closet to my two half siblings who didn’t know I even existed until something hit their Facebook activities in March of 2019 – that was me! Not only that I took the flack for over a year making the mistake of sharing and tagging to only realize, why am I blaming myself? My father should’ve known better!

I was cheated on! He was a 19 year old young man who was such a chauvinistic  dick, that when the moment he had to be a “man” he went into the fucking fetal position and denied, deflect, and defend he did nuttin! This so-called “man” really acted like a pussy, excuse me while I use such vulgarities WITHOUT pride and self gratification! 

He rather see me dead! But hell, he’s buddies with all the female cousins and apparently the sisters too. Maybe he’d respect the existence if I was born a female?

I will never call him a “dad” – he denies the existence of this individual, but why do some members of the family expect that I should respect a man who pisses on masculinity?

I HATE HIM. FROM CONCEPTION, TO BIRTH, FROM WOMB TO THE TOMB. THIS MAN WAS A DICK, IS A DICK, AND WILL DIE AS ONE TOO! 

Father’s Day can suck my dick, and gag on it!