Father's Day Pt. III

With Father's Day a mere week away, we're continuing the celebration early with a couple of true but unfortunate stories.

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Years after the previous stories, during a somewhat messy sexual encounter with an ex, I left my room to grab a hand towel from the bathroom which was right across the hall. Given the proximity- and the fact that I believed the house to be empty, save for me and my quarry- I did not bother to put on any clothes before venturing out into the hallway.

Upon exiting the bathroom, towel in hand, I run into my father who had, unbeknownst to me, just exited his bedroom. We both came to a dead stop in the middle of the hall. I was completely naked, with only a black condom cloaking a still-throbbing erection. Our eyes locked and it seemed that we had come to a silent agreement: there would be no discussion or mention of this, we would just both go our merry ways. Then, without warning, he broke the unspoken agreement and looked down. It was swift, a millisecond at most, but the damage had been done, and my night had been ruined.

fatties welcome

Words by Brain - Comic by Ruler

Father's Day Pt II

With Father's Day a mere 2 weeks away, we're continuing our celebration early with a couple of true but unfortunate stories.

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Several months after last Monday's story, my father's woes about my sexuality were promptly laid to rest. My girlfriend, at the time, had stayed the night and we slept naked in my bed. At this point, my bed was nothing but a mattress laid directly on the floor. Shirts, pants, underwear and a bra were scattered all over the floor of my room. Something primal had gone down, this much was certain. I awoke to a knocking on my head- as if it was a fucking door. I mumbled a couple swears as I woke and looked up to see the disapproving and angry face of my grandmother. She began to scold me in a frightening whisper, "you're in so much god damn trouble, you little son-of-a-bitch." I was informed that we were to be awake and dressed within the hour. While my father was aware that she had been spending the night, it did not become a problem until my grandparents caught wind of it. They talked with him about this "problem" and he subsequently had the following talk with me.

poon

We ended up working out a system where he decided it would be permissible to have her spend the night as long as she was "attending a sleepover" with my sister. This was acceptable to both parties.

Words by Brain - Comic by Ruler

Father's Day

With Father's Day a mere 3 weeks away, we're starting the celebration early with a couple of true but unfortunate stories.

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During my formidable years, my father was the proprietor of several "college" bars (and even, at one point, a strip club*). While this offered my teenage counterpart a smattering of experiences that would otherwise have been held off until college, it was also the cause for many an unfavorable side-effect. For instance: many nights, my father would bring home a friend or employee, whose drinking had rendered non-existent his ability to walk or drive. Upon returning home- usually around 4 or 5 in the morning- he would come into my room, steal the comforter off of me and give it to the vagabond on our sofa. The couch in our living room saw many a drunken buffoon over the years. I quickly grew tired of this bullshit and concocted a plan, with my best friend at the time, to ensure this behavior was discontinued.

So one unassuming Saturday night, my father came home and, true to form, stole away my comforter. After snatching it off the bed, he found the two of us- my friend and me- arms wrapped around each other, even a leg, pretending to sleep. It no doubt took his brain longer than usual to process exactly what he was staring at. Slack-jawed and in total disbelief, he backed up slowly, dropped the blanket and let out an "ugh". It was the last night he came to take my comforter.

While we never discussed this event explicitly, it set a precedent for awkward conversations which began with a talk about my sexual preference. The comic below is a recreation featuring penguin stand-ins and a filter to make sense of his garbled wisdom-gems (brown-boxed).

bewbz rawk

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*It was in this very strip club that I found out who shot Mr. Burns (Spoiler: it was Maggie Simpson).

Words by Brain - Comic by Ruler