Problems at home?

Based on your sig:

Single, 18, Male, †, Caucasian, 5'10", Athletic Build, $$$.
Mechanical Engineering, Rutgers University.
Still taking offers from Single Catholic Women.
Keep PM'ing Me.

I would like to hear both sides of the story, whatever it is.

 

My father is a criminal who spent a significant amount of time behind bars for the attempted murder of my mother.

 

Better than growing up without them.

 

I'm curious what ego boost your signature gives you? I laughed when I read it, as I'm sure others did. What do you think people do when they read your signature?

Is this a side effect of your bad relationship with your father?

 

My wild guess is that you're a complete bible thumper/born again/passionate Christian sort and your father is not, so you two clash.

If so, I was around the same thing growing up - my one older brother found a non-denominational church and went off the deep end of Jesus love, which is fine, until he started getting preachy with my blue collar Dad.

You know what people really dislike? Being preached to and being told they're wrong. Especially when they're older and stubborn and you're just a kid.

Right or wrong approach/motivation/message/whatever, it was stupid of my brother to bother and cause such a ruckus because it was never going to do any good.

 

Don't know about you (seriously) but my parents came already grown up. I ended up as a *card carrying f@ggot* so I guess I turned out just fine.

Have you considered running away and join a circus?

KGB

 

Trying not to get beat until I was big enough to not get beat anymore.

 

You think you had a hard childhood? Well it's got nothing on mine. My mum practically kicked my ass out of the house before I even hit 13, and I never even met my dad. My only friend till I was 10 was the ****** prick next door who was always beating the **** out of me and telling me I wasn't worth ****. Its not even like I had a choice, the town ****ing had something like 9 people living in it, I **** you not.

My entire adolescence was just moving around from place trying to get along with people who didn't even want me. You think that's the worst? My only friend was an Asian guy in his thirties or something, who only kept me around because he thought I could help him get laid. The only perk was that I also got to hang around with this cute ginger chick, she was flat as a pancake sure, but damn she was a total nymph. She must have been a sadist or something cause she always took pleasure in hitting me and telling me how she loved to get wet.

But dear god the bane of my existence was this adult couple that I could NOT seem to avoid. You know these types of couples that are absolutely sickening, like they wear matching outfits and finish each other's sentences? Yeah they were ****ing creepers, and they had a cat, which was at least twice as annoying as they were, I swear this thing would never shut the **** up.

Like I said I ended up moving from town to town getting into fights with other kids my age, even adults from time to time. The only thing that kept me going was my dream to become a pokemon master.

 

Oh dear, and a Demi too.

Oh well, there's one in every crowd.

 

They seem to be adding up.

Like tribbles.

 

Is there a reason that you decided to copy and paste this (most likely) fake story here? I googled it, and it comes up everywhere.....

EDIT: oh, looks like the link in iJH's post is what I'm talking about.....oops....

 

I was born to a single mother, who learned that my biological father was married to someone else after she told him she was pregnant with me.

My mother worked, so I pretty much grew up around my grandmother for my first few years, until she entered the first stages of Alzheimer's, then it was whatever aunt or cousin could watch me during the day.

When I was 5 my mother got pregnant again and married my stepfather. My half-brother and his parents (including my mother) became something of a dysfunctional family unit just the three of them, with me as a black sheep of sorts.

They're still together, but after 38 years I've never heard either of them say the words "I love you" to the other. They certainly never said it to me. My relationship with my stepfather has never been good. My relationship with my mother is about the same as it would be with an acquaintance from work whom you see once or twice a year - pleasant, but not close.

I'm thankful for my upbringing. I learned how not to be a parent to my son.

 

They **** you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were ****ed up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

Philip Larkin

 

My "real" dad is a junkie who has spent a majority of my lifetime behind bars so I didn't grow up with him.

My mom found a better guy that has been like a father to me for almost 25 years now - and they make a great couple and also great parents. They wanted me and my brother to grow up in a politically neutral environment to let us form our own opinions and they've always been very patient and understanding. We didn't have much money, my real dad was randomly in touch to make life harder for me and my mom and I had pretty severe drinking problems for a few years so it's not all good, but we dealt with it instead of chicken out or fall apart.

 

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.

 

The bolded is very, very true.

The rest.....well, I didn't know you were Dr. Evil.

 

We have something in common. I am a huge Austin Powers fan.

 

I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle in Bel Air because I got into one little fight whilst living with my parents. Never forgave them for that.

 

Gotta catch 'em all

 

You jerk, I was going to use that quote .

 

My childhood seemed so tough until I grew up (a bit) and realized it wasn't at all. Guess I'm lucky.

 

Tell us your story ChefMacDaddy.

 

Why would he, when you refuse the same?

 

They are still a newbie thats why.