Friday, July 08, 2011


I had to look it up.
I remember when dad and I used to go hunting, way out in the backroads with a carload of guns, I remember that I used to fantasize that he was going to kill me and bury my bones in the boondock swamp because deep inside I knew his life would be significantly simpler without me leaving tools out in the rain and losing all his stuff.
I knew it since before I was born.


Kim said...

Wow. Pretty grim imagination.

Martijn said...

Grim indeed, but at least you didn't have patricide in mind. Hey-ho, Steve!