Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you. Please sit down on the stilleto chair. First, may I refresh your Tequila Slammers? Oops, sorry Mom I got a little on your Elvis slipper...let me get that, hand me one of them playboy cocktail napkins from the holder shaped like two stags in mid fight...thanks Dad.
All these years you've been so good to me. This gorgeous Classic Redman mobile home from Factory Expo, overlooking the new mall. It's fantastic at night, with all the lights, and our cookouts...I know, I know its just mom bringing things back and forth from the microwave to us out there in the front, but it's nice. And geez, Dad you borrowed so many cars from the guys around the neighborhood to drive me back and forth to tap and jazz, and movement class and ribbon twirl...you're a trooper. And Mom, no matter how late you got back from a gig you always came in my room to re-apply my cherry chapstick, you're an angel.
We have so many memories together. Remember when I would go postering for your shows, those long cold blistering winds along the highway, the heavy staple gun pressing it with all my 8 year old might against the telephone poles. Some nights no one would show up at Dusty's Den and you would sing for me at the front table with my Junior Whopper and hot cocoa. There was even that night we all got stuck at Dusty's overnight...wow what a memory.
Ok I know, I'm going on a tangent...what I wanted to tell you...is that I've decided to accept the scholarship to Wharton Business School and GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE YOU HORRID DUET OF...MONSTERS!!!!!!! YOU FUCKED UP MY WHOLE FUCKING CHILDHOOD....I'M OUTTA HERE...OH AND...YOUR ALBUM....SUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSSS ASSSSSSSSSS
sLAMMMMMM doooooorrrrrr, door doesn't close and slaps back open on it's rusty hinges...carefully close...latch...FUCK YOU!!!!
(I love my parents. -Rylan)
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