Dante's Fuckit List Entry 9

There’s something I’ve wanted to do ever since I was knee high. Seriously. I was a very tiny child. This is something I assume that most men dreamed of doing when they were growing up. Damn it, if you didn’t then something is wrong with you, not me!

Fight My Father.

There comes a point in a young man’s life that he says to himself “I can whip my father’s ass.” I had this thought. Many times. Back when I was in the 7th grade and about 5’7” I was in the kitchen and happened to be standing next to my father. I looked over and realized that I was a little taller than him and laughed. He asked what was funny and I said “Nothing…” as I imagined putting him through a table.

This thought has been on my mind so much that I forgot that I wrote about this three years ago! I even mentioned Fuck It List back then. So as time continues to pass I see that I am continuing to grow finally stopping at 6’1” when standing straight (which never fucking happens) making me way taller than my father. And by taller I mean more dangerous.

Now, don’t get me wrong. My father’s no punk. He’s always been in shape. It’s not like I can get him drunk and battle him since I inherited my drinking ability from him. It’d be an endless drunken brawl. I think that if I channeled my retard strength I’d win. Because that shit is real.

Now as I’m on the wrong side of 30 I’ve realized that I no longer need to powerbomb my father. I’ve only talked to him once in the past two years and haven’t seen him in that same amount of time. I don’t have any real beef with the man anymore. He’s alive and all that but we don’t have a relationship. He’ll likely live years after me and I’m pretty damn sure that we’ll never be friends. We don’t fight with each other or anything. We just know that the other is alive. Like Highlanders or some shit. He’s over 60 now and taking him to Dudleyville would mean nothing now.

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