-Oh man! Getting rid of them! That's like trying to get rid of AIDS!

Number Two. I tell Dad that Jello Soda has a connection to a kid that killed a highway repair person. He was driving drunk, so automatically he's a fuck up. He's waiting in jail, now.

-Oh, yeah. They'll be selling him for cigarettes.

Dad's crazy. Fifty four years will earn you a one liner for everything.

Dad's not a full time gambler, but occasionally he likes to take a trip to Vegas. He knows what my lucky number is, so he'll try it out on the roulette table when he isn there.

Number Three. On the answering machine:

-Hey Fuckhead, it looks like having you as a son is paying off for me! I walked right up to the roulette table and said: Let me play ten dollars on twenty-four! He spins the wheel; what came up? Twenty-Four, G! Nigga please! Peace.

Things of note:

If the White Sox win, it is a good day. If the White Sox win and the Cubs lose, it is a PERFECT day, and God smiles on us.

Dad on any player that has ever played for the Chicago Cubs: -He's got that Cub stink all over him, fuckhead.

Dad doesn't drink or smoke. He runs every morning.

Some people think that running is like crack for athletes, the same way comic books are known as paper crack for people that like to read. And look at foxy chicks in skin tight outfits. (i.e. Me.)

I have to agree about the running thing. Dad smoked and drank for a lot of years. But when he gave up drinking, he started to run. He kept smoking, though. Eventually he quit smoking and now his main addiction is running and hating the Chicago Cubs. One day I'm going to start running.

Right now I'm going to stick with the other things.