time to exorcise a pile of crap
my disdain towards traditional musical methods stems from the fact that my father was a one hit wonder in 1970. he left us 3 weeks after i turned 5 so his 40 year old ass could keep banging his little brother's 20 year old gf and be a 'star'. his mom called my mom and told her if she or anyone in her family helped me or my sister make sense of the reality of the situation or come to honest terms with the hand he dealt us we wouldn't have a father - because they were going to be 'stars' again, it was just a matter of time. then we'd all be taken care of and live happily ever after.
lies upon half truths for over two decades later and my plan for turning 30 is suicide in his shed. one week before the big day, my mom makes a random comment about how my living situation with my roommate and his gf might suck but not as bad as the one with my uncle and my dad. a few minutes and a couple of choice questions later i'm livid and FINALLY starting to see things clearly.
and in keeping with the theme. i've got more fingers than times i've ever had sex (not counting thumbs). Boo Boo hasn't lived long enough to cross my line of messed up-ed-ness in regards to intimacy yet.
also - haloween 1998