Published on October 25th, 2016 | by Richard Black0
An Open Letter to the Attendees of My Daughter’s Birthday Party After Drinking Eight Beers
To Whom it May Concern,
I apologize in advance for sending out a thank you letter en-masse (trust me Barbara it’s a term) but I’ve been forced to break with tradition. It seems that SOMEONE (yes that’s you Carol) didn’t keep a list of who gave what to Darcy but I’m rising above the situation because I’ve got some modicum of etiquette. We live in a society with rules Carol.
To the parents who gave my daughter the board game Candyland I’d like to thank you for providing me with an opportunity to spend fifteen million tedious hours with my daughter. Next time just give me a revolver with one round in the chamber. At least Russian Roulette comes to an inevitable and irrevocable end.
What the fuck Lizzy? My daughter specifically asked for Lego Friends and not Lego Elves. I WAS THERE FOR THE CONVERSATION LIZZY. I mean seriously is it too hard to remember Lego Friends? Tell your mom you should be tested.
I don’t know who gave my daughter a puzzle it’s not the 1820s anymore. Puzzles went the way of dysentery. They are no longer a novelty and the only people who enjoy putting them together are widows and single men hording a clowder (YES IT’S A WORD BARBARA I’M A GODDAMNED WRITER) of cats in a utility apartment above a bowling alley. Speaking of which do you know who’s going to have to put this damn thing together? Me. I’m going to have to put together every one of those 5,000 pieces together for the sake of my daughter’s happiness. Me. The guy with horrible spatial skills on the verge of wearing bifocals.
Jacob I know it was you who gave my daughter a Frozen karaoke machine. Listen I think you’re a great kid and I know that this isn’t your fault. Your daddy and I have some issues and by “issues” I mean I caught him banging an intern in the bathroom stall at work a few years ago and I may have mentioned it to your mother. Give me a call if you want to hang out.
Seriously Lizzy what the fuck? I mean come on. How hard is it to remember Lego Friends? By the way feel free to tell your dad that he can stop looking at my wife’s tits all the time. Nevermind I’ll do it myself. Stop looking at my wife’s tits Tom.
TAP SHOES??? If I wasn’t convinced that Jacob’s dad hadn’t sent the karaoke machine this would be right up his alley. It’s Barbara isn’t it? I’ll bet it’s Barbara. Listen you’re daughter seems like a nice kid but you’re a bonafide twatwaffle. You never got over the fact that I married Laura did you? Instead you settled for that dud of an engineer who makes “a real living” but is pretty mediocre in the sack.
NO ONE IS INTO ANNA ABIGAIL!!! NO. ONE. Maybe if your parents weren’t so busy being “separated” and humping everyone in a fifty mile radius they’d pull their heads out of their respective asses and realize that it’s all about Elsa. Spend a few extra bucks next time.
Lizzy holy shit these things are everywhere and THEY’RE NOT EVEN THE RIGHT KIND OF LEGO!!! You can tell your cokehead dad that if he wants a piece of me I’m ready anytime, anywhere and by the way who gave my daughter the book “A Separate Peace”? Aside from the fact that it’s a really shitty book my daughter can’t even read “Pinkalicious Goes to the Carwash” so thanks a shitload for making her feel inadequate.
What’s that you son of a bitch? I’m not reading to my daughter enough? Is that what you’re saying? I read to Darcy every night and instead of “working” at your shitty little startup and your business meetings at “the Jewel Box” strip club Steve you might try spending some time with your daughter. This is Steve right? I’m twice the man you are Steve and I’ve CHOSEN to be a stay at home dad because I love my daughter. I WANT to see her as much as I can and BE THERE for her before she becomes a raging loon who gives hand jobs to homeless men for five bucks like your oldest. HOW DOES THAT FEEL STEVE??? TELL ME HOW DOES THAT FEEL???
God I HATE all of you. It blows my mind that you people have managed to procreate or even find someone willing to tolerate your presence for more than FIVE MINUTES (Except you man. You know who you are. Seriously man I think you’re great and I love you. Let’s try and do some lunch next week).