I had a new OKCupid message. Got excited for a second. It was a man. He said: write some more you lazy fuck.
My dad died Monday morning. I was fresh off the plane back in LA. Made amends on his deathbed. He was in and out of consciousness. Who knows if he heard what the fuck I said. You sacrificed for my education and all I did was get high. You wrote me letters and I never wrote back. I blew off my brothers. Patrick went to college in California and I only saw him twice. This was selfish, isolating and disrespectful of me and I want to make amends for it.
He’d come in and out. A tube dripped vanilla Ensure straight into his stomach while a pump breathed for him through his tracheotomy. Hoses and catheters and his feet raised up on cushions to drain his swollen ankles. They gave him Haldol; he was struggling. His kidneys were shot so the drugs didn’t fade. He just kept nodding off. Dad I want you to know that I’m gonna be closer to my brothers. My stepmom. That I’m gonna be there for them.
He died. I was at work. Kept working while white noise filled my head and chest and I couldn’t cry until I got home and saw a picture of him on Facebook. Finally that site was good for something.
The Dirty Mexican Cunt is living with me now. She was a professional grief counselor. The old joke is: whore in the bedroom chef in the kitchen. I forget what the third one is. Should be whore in the bedroom, grief counselor every other place. A whore for five minutes and then it’s OK baby it’s OK. She’s with me because of this web site. Haven’t posted in two weeks. Write some more you lazy fuck.
He’d wake up restrained and start screaming: hide the guns. I didn’t shoot anybody. Thought he was in jail in Texas. On the trip out West with Santangelo and O’Hara– I’m using fake names, but they’re actually less guinea/ mick than the real ones. Fakes because Santangelo killed a (REDACTED) and he might still be alive somewhere. Dad had cops in three towns plus the staties after him because he (REDACTED). I don’t know what O’Hara did. Back then you could just leave town.
Tonight, back on a plane for the funeral. In between– work, come home. The poor girl– I brought her here to party. Get some drama. Last time I got four good posts out if it. Now she holds me at night and I cry. I think about impregnating her. Have a kid I can take to the lake.
Maybe I’ll get some ashes. On Christmas I’m climbing Mexico’s tallest volcano. Seems like his speed. But when I go, take me to the lake where he took me. We watched the rain beat the water flat. Crouch down, line up your eyes right and see the curve of the Earth. I need to get back.
delicioustacos 
I’m sorry to hear that. My condolences to you and your family.
well…
I..
You have been a huge part of my sobriety.
If it weren’t that you get up after sleeping with some beautiful woman hating yourself for winning at life, like I feel like I do, I would be drunk.
Hands down, no doubt about it.
Drunk, or dead, or both… So thank you so much for this post.
Please never stop writing.
J.Piper
Christ dude, if I’d known you were in such pain I wouldn’t have wrote that OkCupid message.
I could give you the cookie-cutter ‘my sincerest condolences’ message, or the equally trite ‘I can’t imagine what you’re going through’, but honestly, ‘my thoughts are with you’. I wish I could come up with something unique, something witty and insightful to assuage the pain, but I’m all out.
Write whenever you’re ready, you talented fuck.
I am glad that Mexican chick is there to help you out during a trying emotional time. I hope you feel better soon, It takes awhile but it all gets better. You get better, stay up.
I’ve never posted here, but I’ve been reading your stuff for years. Sorry for your loss.
Your place in the world will change now; you are next in line. The first six month are hard, but mental breakdowns and suicides of the bereaved peak after 12 months. My dad died 1 and a half years ago. I wish you strength. Go impregnate.
My dad died a little over 2 years ago, hemorrhagic stroke got him way too young. It sucks and it always will suck but eventually you figure out a way. ✊
Amazing writing as always, my sincerest condolences for your lose.
A moment I dread in the quiet hours of the night.
Losing Dad has to be the hardest fucking thing in the world. Not looking forward to that day.. My condolences.
Curve of the Earth? Man get with the times…
Sorry to hear about your pop. I would express condolences but it’ll sound fake and meaningless coming from someone you don’t really know.
So: hey, congrats on getting the Mexican hooker back. At least she’ll help you pump out some new posts/semen. Perhaps even a (dramatic pause) book.
Do your dad a solid and get her preggers. Continue the [REDACTED] family line. Legacy. Your son will be 6’+ tall Mexican with a fucked up nose and inherited drinking/addiction problem. But he’ll carry on a talent for writing.