My dad is tremendously funny and a phenomenal story teller. I wore the same pair of vans tennis shoes to school for 5 years straight, had long un-brushed hair, and wore oversized sweatshirts and jean shorts to school. Because I wasn’t popular and because I was picky, I didn’t go on a single date until I was almost 20 years old. I thought it best to not deal with this all in real time in hopes that my Dad would come to his senses.
I think I always had a high bar when it came to dating because my dad really had it all; he was tall, dark, and handsome, educated, successful, ethical, funny, athletic, and handy. He was a tall, blonde, surfer that ended up moving to San Diego for college and that was the end of that. My aunt, however, told me both Aaron and I were welcome over for Christmas so I jumped at the opportunity.
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I grew up in a wonderful and loving home in Southern California.
I had an older brother and sister 12 and 15 years my senior respectively, parents who were happy together, and my aunt and cousins lived one street over.
I told her I might mistakenly shoot him thinking he was here to rob us. I think I'll have a cop buddy of mine go pay him a visit, maybe tap his black azz a few times with a baton and encourage him to keep to his kind. You could put your daughter on a weight loss routine, for one. It should be explained that if this urge cannot be overcome then by all means get sexed up by a Negro man.
That is what happens when you try to beat something into the head of a young person it causes them to be more curious it sounds like you daughter is an intelligent young lady despite your failures as a parent There are ways of dealing with this. I told her I might mistakenly shoot him thinking he was here to rob us. I think I'll have a cop buddy of mine go pay him a visit, maybe tap his black azz a few times with a baton and encourage him to keep to his kind. It must be explained that it is perfectly natural to be curious and get the urge to be longcocked by a Negro.
“Don’t come home with a black boyfriend,” my dad said in a raspy whisper as he pointed one finger unintentionally at my heart and gestured towards my co-ed dorm. A perpetual comedian, my dad’s parting words were not unlike his jokester self.