Well my Tasty Tarts it has been a rough week for this here Blogger. Being only barely of legal age means I act like a Mongoloid and generally try and drag as many people into my fox den as possible. Sometimes this is a good thing and other times I wake up covered in man jewce and $2 bills shoved up my ass. Excuses,excuses I know I know but hey I am on the clock here.
Originally I was trying to find the email I received one amazing morning by my brothers Wife (if you could call her that). Seems she wanted to take me to task for ruining her sons life a full 5 years after I had left their miserable home. I could not find said email as I believe I accidentally deleted it, which I find very odd since I never delete anything. But I did come across a half finished Evil Army interview. And I figure since they are all dead I might as well post it....But I guess while I piece that cluster fuck together I can give you how Uncle Black Mike ruins children.....
Anyone who knows me knows my life is pretty much an open book of shattered stories and bullshit.( Part self- hype, part self-depreciation to cover up the thinly veiled arrogance that masks a teflon coat of self-hate (some call the sum of all these parts being Human but I'd like to believe I am better then that). Anyway I am a fucking Long Island Ice Tea of fun and if you take a sip I am sure I will end up trying to finger blast you well into the night.) And because of this I have no problem revealing inner family turmoil or exposing myself in a harsh light...I am here for you all after all you know. Soooooo....
A few weeks after some Gonerfest where I stayed up for 4 days,came back and broke up with my girlfriend (stupid move), some how getting another girlfriend while living with the Ex (even dumber move), shaking off the girl who wanted to be my girlfriend ( smart move), and after a bunch of little retard moves I get an email from The Wife who here on I shall refer to as Floor Sponge.
Now seeing as I do not have the email from Floor Sponge I will have to use my excellent memory. In it she spelled out the fact that in the 3 weeks I slept on her and my brothers couch I taught her son how to use a child proof safety lighter and how not to clean his room. Now having all this tremendous burden upon my soul almost crushed me. Not only was I an aforementioned adulterous asshole on all fronts but I was also The Bad Uncle. I had become every True Americans Dream. The Dream of being hated by every single celled organism that walks the planet.
I can do a lot of things dear readers. I can part the seas, make women climax multiple times, make Vegan food not taste like shit, return library books on time, play guitar, and hell I think a few times I even jerked off into my own face to see what the big deal was for chicks. But I can not for the life of me remember teaching this little spud how to use a lighter or even the reason why I would OR even come up with a bullshit clever story about why/how. So I can just chalk this up to The Floor Sponge just having collected to much bar room aftermath.
As for the "not cleaning his room" remark....DUH stuff that shit under the bed like I was taught to by my for fathers...and they had been taught too for centuries before them. Men didn't make beds so we could sleep comfortably at night. Nor did we do so so that we may cover them in sheets and mate away long into the night. No...NO beds were invented so we would have a place in the room to stuff shit under and it not look crappy. We also invented beds so we could hide porno mags under them, and so we could make DIY vagina's and slam them between the mattresses. I was just completing the circle of life with this kid.
I was rather annoyed at all this accusation to my character so I quickly sent off a return email. I of course once again do not remember the exact wording but I do remember my ex girlfriend seeing it and laughing while she held a knife to my neck internally. I believe it went something like this though...I reminded her of how my brother met her in a bar one day, how she had a drug habit, how her parents were addicted to gambling,how she loved tequila a little to much, how when i lived with them and the dog would shit on the floor she would just put a paper towel over it and walk away so when you walked through the house there were little land mines of funk everywhere, how I helped pay her rent while she sat in a hammock drinking wine coolers, how when one of her cats died she didn't notice for a few days, how her last boyfriend beat her because she was a loud mouth cunt when drunk, how she was a cheerleader in high school so of course became "That Girl", and maybe like one or two more small things. I pointed out all these facts and that maybe her poor parenting skills and her now 11 yr old kid maybe,just maybe....might have had a shitty mother who was a bar room whore bag. I dunno the world is a mysterious place and they are constantly debating Occam's Razor.
My brother is exempt from this story because I love him and he was working a lot during this time. And he also left that Floor Sponge soon after I moved out and away to beautiful Texas. And I did teach the kid how to use matches so he could light off fireworks with me but hey...Don't keep matches with in the reach of children dumb fucks as it says so right there on the fucking labels. Next time....Evil Army interview for reals...and I don't feel like proof reading this turd so fuck off Grammer Sex jews