Days That I Can Remember.
Wow, holy fuck! I didnít realize what today was until the last hours of the day. Today, or yesterday depending on how you look at it was August the tenth. Which might not mean a fuck load to you, but means the world to me. It was the last very intense, if not coherent conversation I had with my father.
The reason a fucked up person like me, a person that can get almost any major holiday screwed up, got this date in infamy is this. I know that my fiancťe and me had just broken up. I spent about 3 days drunk. And that I had attended my very first porn trade show. At the very end of that, I decided to call my father, just because he was my man. Hereís a little of the conversation that followed:
Dad, you wouldnít believe what I seen!
Whatíd you see?
I was actually in a burlesque video! We got to hoot and holla in the video. Ohh man I wish you could have been there. I have all the pictures and video.
Who was with you?
Ohh, what about crazyshit?
I am probably going to have to sell my motorcycle to take control of it.
Bullshit, donít sell that fucking bike, Iíll lend you the money.
No, no, Iím sure I will find a way to fix it.
And the conversation went on from there. We talked about how I still loved my ex-finance and how I wished things would have worked out. But one thing is for sure. He was so fucking glad when he found out that I was going to take 100% control of crazyshit.com. Like I said before he was my biggest advertiser/fan. And I remember much more than I am sharing with you, but I decided to share just a little bit of my conversation last year. I also did something I had never done before. I told my father how much I love/loved him. It actually took every bit of courage I had to tell him this. But in the end I can say that it was worth everything in the world. Some would say that day I had made piece with my dad. But I would say that day, I started a new relationship with my father that will last my life time.
As a side note; my father and I used to always work on yards. When I was very young, I helped him set-up the sprinklers at his house. When I bought my house in 2000, he helped put the sprinklers in my house. So every time I look out into my yard, or my motherís yard before I mow the grass, I truly think that we did a great job. Maybe sometimes too good of a job. I mean, for sure a yard needs to me mowed, but twice a week is a bit much. But as us Polacks like to do, we did it right and we did it the hard way.
*edit: I was very fucking drunk last night when I wrote this, so if it doesn't make sense...ohh fucking well.*