Sunday, June 18, 2017

June 18, 2017

Dear Diary,

Today, I can imagine that every American peasant everyone is celebrating Father's Day, and it's no different in our home.  Of course, I can't think of Father's Day without thinking about Chel, our how she became our little miracle baby. It's days like today that slow us down in order to stop thinking about how I lost the you-know-what be grateful for what little cash we still have offshore the important things in life.

Every year, we make a big deal about Father's Day. That's when Web Hubbell Bill, me and Chel's half-Jew kids all gather for a special time together. We tell stories about Web's Bill's childhood and what life was like back in Arkansas before Chel was born and I was having sex working with Web at the Rose Law firm. Bill was off doing strippers something else at the time. I think running for governor or cruising bars campaigning with state troopers. I forget.

Well, anyway, we had Chel, which meant that Web Bill was a father.

It was different kind of celebration before we let Jews in the family had grandchildren. Back then, we could roast a pig and serve it with ice cream. Now the closest thing we have to a pig is Chel when she doesn't wear make up.  Oh, was that mean? Well, that's what she gets for marrying a Jew. Those people have suffered persecution for thousands of years, and I don't see a big change coming any time soon.

She signed up for it. She better get used to it.

We all have a pretty good time on Father's Day. Web comes over and sings and dances with Chel and then they go to the bathroom to look at themselves in the mirror side by side to see how much alike they look. I don't see how people could miss it. It's like two giant gropers peering through the tank window at Sea World. Especially the lips and those goggly eyes. Yuck. Creeps me out.

The only person who seems uncomfortable with the whole thing is Bill, who usually sits in the corner sulking until Web leaves. I don't know why he has to act that way. We all had a firm understanding about it. He got hookers and I got a kid. That was the deal. It's not my fault he shoots blanks. Then again, that's probably all that's kept him out of jail all these years. Just look at how all that stuff has boomeranged on Bill Cosby. You don't see me sulking about him and Loretta Lynch all alone in an airplane, and believe me, there's a story there.

I wish he'd grow up. Jesus. We're all adults.

After Web leaves, Chel gives Bill a token nice Father's Day gift. One year it was a necktie that lights up in the dark with an arrow pointing down that says, "This way to the party!" He said he liked it, but I've never seen him wear it.  He probably knows Chel bought it on sale at Big Lots.

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