One of my favorite things to do is tell the truth about my dad. He's dead now, but he was a literal neo-nazi. A meth-dealing member of the Aryan brotherhood who no one would have suspected. No tattoos, wore white new balances, 60+ years old dude living in the suburbs secretly slinging crank out of his Chevy Silverado while also running an illegal gambling ring across multiple states.

I obviously wasn't really close to him, especially after I was an adult, but God damn he was shitty. After he died, people kept acting like he wasn't a piece of shit and it was so frustrating. I was sitting at the funeral and all I wanted to do was go up and explain to everyone how horrible he was, but instead I just sat there and made disgusted faces at everyone who said nice things about him. Then I paid for my part of the funeral (felt wrong to stick my sibs with the whole bill), smoked weed in the parking lot with my nephew, and had some waffle house.

What were we talking about again? Oh, you were saying your dad was coming to town and y'all are going to six flags? Nice.