Friday, June 20, 2008
The Mourning of Fathers
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Somewhere, in the distance, there is a mournful wail. And then another. They join in mutual pain.
The plaintive cries echoes over the dark streets of Mobile, Alabama. It sounds like two wounded dogs, howling together.
But it is not the noise of dogs.
It is the wail of both girl’s fathers. Joined in the mutual pain of having their daughers fondled by a greased up ur-scrote.
Each father thinks back and wonders to himself. “Where did I go wrong?”
It’s not your fault, fathers. The douche virus is too strong, even for the best of us.
However I will rescue your daughters. And treat them with the respect they deserve. While fondling their ankles and juggling hamsters.
