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Back from Va-ca.
17 years ago
General
'Ello and good evening. Writing to you from my bedside with the sniffles and sunburn, chills and bugbites. I had a wonderful Memorial Day vacation, which I spent with my aunt and uncle (per advice of 
darker-kain ). I had originally indended to go to Animazement, but I figured this would be a better idea, and I think it was. Although my grandmother is going senile, and my uncle is the epitomy of Chevy Chase on a Lampoon's Vacation film. I managed to finish (definitively) the first chapter of "The Scribe", which I will be posting in a day or so after I recover from my beach blues. I got horrible sunburn while I was away. I went to Cape Lookout and various other islands on the Outer Banks, and on Harker's Island, I fell asleep while tanning. So now half of my face is going to look like a giant liverspot. My apologies to those of you whose art I have not been able to comment on or whose journals I have not read, but I've been without internet for almost 5 days, and was quite happy to be able to relax under the sun with a good book and to be able to work on my stories.
In other news, my father (who those of you have had the displeasure of meeting) recently got an invitation the Special Olympics.
If I had a nickel for every time a friend of mine has said, "you're dad's retarded," i'd be a very rich man. That in mind, when I opened the letter at my dad's workplace, it was merely seconds ago that he had said over the phone to a customer of his, that the typo on the website which listed him as the "GN" of the company (as opposed to GM-- general manager), stood for "General Nutcase." (Other coworkers who heard him say this looked at him and nodded in agreement.)
In any case, the letter was quite literally said, "Thank you for you support and assistance in aiding the Special Olympics. We have greatly appreciated your participation in the past, and look forward to your contributions this year." It then went on to say if he'd like to make a donation for this year to send it to the adress below, at which point I realized that apparently he'd been making donations, not actually participating. Still, the wording in the letter left room for one to suspect otherwise.
At the bottom of the letter it read, "If you would like to attend this year's Special Olympics, or know anyone who would be eligible to participate, please call...." When I go to work tomorrow, I'll see if I can recover a copy of the letter so I can scan it onto the website here, though its likely been thrown away by now.
The point of me telling you this is simple: To alleviate your querries regarding the intelligence and/or sanity of my father. YES. He is retarded. But I preffer to think of him as "special," just as any other father is 'special' to their child in some fashion.
darker-kain ). I had originally indended to go to Animazement, but I figured this would be a better idea, and I think it was. Although my grandmother is going senile, and my uncle is the epitomy of Chevy Chase on a Lampoon's Vacation film. I managed to finish (definitively) the first chapter of "The Scribe", which I will be posting in a day or so after I recover from my beach blues. I got horrible sunburn while I was away. I went to Cape Lookout and various other islands on the Outer Banks, and on Harker's Island, I fell asleep while tanning. So now half of my face is going to look like a giant liverspot. My apologies to those of you whose art I have not been able to comment on or whose journals I have not read, but I've been without internet for almost 5 days, and was quite happy to be able to relax under the sun with a good book and to be able to work on my stories.In other news, my father (who those of you have had the displeasure of meeting) recently got an invitation the Special Olympics.
If I had a nickel for every time a friend of mine has said, "you're dad's retarded," i'd be a very rich man. That in mind, when I opened the letter at my dad's workplace, it was merely seconds ago that he had said over the phone to a customer of his, that the typo on the website which listed him as the "GN" of the company (as opposed to GM-- general manager), stood for "General Nutcase." (Other coworkers who heard him say this looked at him and nodded in agreement.)
In any case, the letter was quite literally said, "Thank you for you support and assistance in aiding the Special Olympics. We have greatly appreciated your participation in the past, and look forward to your contributions this year." It then went on to say if he'd like to make a donation for this year to send it to the adress below, at which point I realized that apparently he'd been making donations, not actually participating. Still, the wording in the letter left room for one to suspect otherwise.
At the bottom of the letter it read, "If you would like to attend this year's Special Olympics, or know anyone who would be eligible to participate, please call...." When I go to work tomorrow, I'll see if I can recover a copy of the letter so I can scan it onto the website here, though its likely been thrown away by now.
The point of me telling you this is simple: To alleviate your querries regarding the intelligence and/or sanity of my father. YES. He is retarded. But I preffer to think of him as "special," just as any other father is 'special' to their child in some fashion.
That said, welcome back, and glad you had fun with the family even if they are weird the way everyones is weird Still the story makes me feel lucky...the craziest stuff my dad did was take people up for flights in a 2 seat PiperCub sea plane...then try to make them barf I miss my dad
Just wipe his drooling chin, and make sure his helmet is clean. =3