My dad is awesome

Posted: July 13, 2010 by fischfail in Family, Humor, Random, Satire, WTF
Tags: , , , ,

That’s right, you have read that correctly.  For those of you who do not know him, let me give you a short bio.

He is a short guy, around 5’4″, is overweight and was born in 1960. Sometime in mid-1970, he dropped out of high school to join the military, and ever since has worked an odd collection of jobs.  Currently, he is a security guard (for the same company I “work” for) and a paper carrier for The New York Times.  He has a cop-stache and frequently wears large Aviator sunglasses.  You know, the type that cover have the face, only exposing the “stache” and mouth?  He also wears his hair in a comb-over fashion, even though he is not bald (however, his hair is thinning…  and that doesn’t give me much hope for my future…).  For about 10 years now, he has needed glasses, and only recently has he admitted this to himself and the rest of us (even though we told him.),  He Loves Clancy, and in his opinion, he is the only author worth reading.  His favorite type of movie includes tits, explosions, gunfire, car wrecks, or gratuitous “foul” language.  Surprisingly enough his three favorite films are “Sleepless in Seattle,” “You’ve got Mail,” and “Timecop.”  Barring the first two from examination, let’s take a look at “Timecop.”

It’s a film starring a piece of wood…  I mean, Jean Claude Van Damme, and as you can imagine it portrays his amazing “acting” skills with extraordinary clarity.  Now, I’m not going to spend time discussing this plot (something in which I could spend days doing), you can head over to IMDB for that.  If you’ve never seen it, don’t bother spending the $10 for a Van Damme double feature over at Wal*Mart, just torrent the piece of work.

So, anyways, tonight during dinner (which I’ll explain in just a few minutes), we’re watching it.  At the culmination of this masterpiece, my dad looks at me, sighs, and says:

That’s a good movie. I would call it his best piece of work ever.  It should e considered a classic, although I would love to see someone, a good director, maybe the guy who did “Die Hard,” remake it.

My response is nothing short of stunned silence.  Surely, he cannot be serious, but he is.  No director is the world could make Van Damme a good actor…

Now, for the dinner I discussed. Don’t get me wrong, my dad is no Wolfgang Puck, Bobby Flay, Paula Dean, or even Jimmy Dean (R.I.P.).  In fact, he is definitely not a master of the culinary arts, as will become clear very soon.

Now, my dad has been known to fuck up things I thought impossible (Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches have never been the same…).  But, I think his meal tonight takes the cake, so to speak.  He made hot dogs and fries, simple right? But then he had to turn it up a notch and throw in pork-n-beans.  Fine!  That is a good, classic American meal: hot dogs, fries, and beans.  I assure you, this is perfect, leave it as is.  So, my dad being the genius that he is, decides to add the super “secret” mystery ingredient of more hot dogs…  To the beans.  That’s right, our menu was fries, hot dogs, and pork-n-beans with hot dogs.  Tonight, I have my fill of mystery meat… hot dogs for the month.

After dinner, he simply says “that was a good meal for not knowing what I was making 30 minutes ago.”  My mind goes racing…  What happened to the boneless, skinless, perfect chicken breasts I left out this morning?  Did aliens abduct them?  Did someone break in, see them laying on the counter waiting to be eaten, and take only them?  No, he put them back in the freezer.  A better questions is “this took you a half hour to make?  I can hand make 2 dozen cupcakes and have the next batch ready in that time.”

That only thing that could have possibly made this dinner better is copious amounts of tighty-whitey’s (check), a can of Budweiser (check!) and nascar… I guess 2 out of 3 for one person isn’t bad.  But damn did that beer look tasty and refreshing.

Now, my dad is the type of sadistic character-building prick, who when I got into trouble as a young teenager would handcuff me to the rafters in the garage (it is a wonder why I enjoy bondage), and to this day he is still trying to figure out how I broke that pair of Smith and Wessons…  He is also the type of guy who will enter into a small enclosed room and talk just long enough to let out a death-fart and then take his leave and close the door.

Now, anyone who know my dad, know he’s rude, crude, and straight to the point.  I mean, even as a little kid, when I did something wrong he never sugarcoated it with what I did right.  Instead, he would tel me to unglue myself from the workbench and put the model together properly.

So, now that you know about my dad, you can clearly understand why he is amazing.  Here’s to you dad, maker of a three past meal (two of which were based around mystery meat) and lover of Jean Claude Van Damme and “Star Trek.”

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