Wednesday, June 1, 2011

To My yet to be Conceived Son

To my yet to be conceived son,

Yes, I'm calling it, you're going to be a boy. If I ever do decide to knock up your mother, no doubt about it, you're going to be a boy. First of all, I take ten (ten!) minutes of meditation time a day, concentrating about Y-Chromosomes. So if your mother and I do decide to have a kid, which we probably won't because you fuckers are annoying as hell, you're going to be a boy.

If for some reason my meditation powers don't work, and you turn out to be a girl, you're going to the Jolie-Pitt family. They love their Asians. Why would I do that? Because I don't want to deal with all the shit that girls go through. Not only that, but you're probably going to end up being a girl version of me, which means you'll feel sorry for the creepy future serial killer, and do stupid shit with him like getting pregnant. Either that, or you'll be starving for attention from anyone, which means you'll end up dating a 28 year-old who lives in his parents basement and collects Army knives. And then he's going to convince you to take pictures of yourself, and you'll agree to it, and the next thing you know, your pictures are all over the internet, bringing shame to our family for generations.

Anyway, back to you, my wonderful son. I'm 80% sure that I'm going to name you JaGy-JoGo, after the only two men (with the possible exception of Clive Owen, but that's iffy) that I would leave your mother for.

Although you're not even conceived yet, your old man has been doing a lot of thinking, and he decided that his family has a history of medical problems like breast cancer, diabetes, and bipolar disorder. While your old man shows no signs of any of those diseases, you never know. It seems the trend in our family is for people--especially the men--to go batshit crazy around the age of 45. Also, there's also a high possibility that I may die. I've been known to have extremely bad luck, and getting myself hurt while performing the simplest of tasks, like doing the laundry. Just the other day, your old man went to a coworker's birthday party, and that jive-ass mofo decided to leave his three cats out in the common area to interact with the humans.

You see, son, your old man is allergic to cats, so while he was driving home, his eyes were watery and he was sneezing so hard that he was surprised that he didn't give himself a concussion. To make a long story short, I almost drove into an 18 wheeler. I could have died, but thankfully, I'm Asian so I come equipped with Ninja-like reflexes.

But even so, accidents could happen, so that means I could die any day. I could be walking to the mini-mart to get some cigarettes and get struck by lightning. I could be watching a scary movie while sucking on a lollipop, and something scary jumps out, so I inhale, forgetting about the lollipop, and choke to death. I could be helping an old woman carry her groceries back to her place, when, all of a sudden, she's not an old woman but a terrorist with a bomb!

The world is a dangerous place. That's an important life lesson to know, which neatly segues into the purpose of this letter: Life lessons from your old man who has either died, or went batshit crazy, both of which are high possibilities.

So I hope you take this advice to heart, and live your life to the fullest.

The first piece of advice I can give you is to read. Just this morning, your old man was checking his Facebook to see if his old friends still knew he existed when he came across this status update from a 25 year-old woman: "im an emoshtional reck! i was spotting after sex ( the doc said it was normal but i still freaked out) then i got a e-mail saying i was going to get the check for the apartment! i started crying at work, so they sent me home for 2day. im going crazy!" Can you spot all of the mistakes this full-grown, mother of three made? A lot. Do you know why she made all of those mistakes? Because she didn't read. Do you wanna know why she didn't read? Because she was too busy skipping school and getting pregnant instead.


Read lots of books, my son. I don't care what you read, just read. Although, you better read Harry Potter (and don't say you read them when you've only seen the movies, because that makes you a liar, and liars get their penises chopped off by women like the 25 year-old, mother of three), or else you'll die full of regrets.

When you enter middle school, you're going to see that the girls who used to look like boys with longer hair in elementary school are going to start to look more like the girls on The Disney Channel. When you do, something weird is going to happen to you. Don't be ashamed of yourself when the device that you use to eject urine starts to stand up like a meerkat that sees a predator from afar. Just carry your Trapper Keeper like a box, in front of you, and people won't notice.


When you're old enough, you're going to have sex for the first time (hopefully, with a girl. Listen, I like most gay people, but I don't think I could handle it if you were gay. Even if I'm dead), and I implore you not to act like you know what you're doing, because you don't. When you act like you know what you're doing, you do stupid things like accidentally sticking it in her brown-eye. Unless your girl is into that, you could get yourself in a messy situation.


If you do get yourself in a messy situation, it's always best to know how to do your own laundry. Explaining brown stains on your bedsheets to your mother won't be fun. 


Also, when you start having sex, always use a condom. Even when a girl says that it's okay not to use one, use one. If you are 100% certain that the girl you are boning is on some sort of birth control, then don't be ashamed to ask her how many guys she slept with. Let's say you were ashamed, and you decide to do this girl without protection, and you later find out how many guys she actually slept with, prepare yourself to get a Q-Tip shoved up your urine hole. It's going to hurt, and you're going to cry.


In high school, don't let yourself be tied to just one girl. Explore a bit. High school is going to seem like it's going to last forever, but it's not. You're going to go to college, and you're going to find out how much fun one night stands are. Remember, always use a condom. 


But if you're anything like me, you're probably going to have a best friend who happens to be a girl. You guys have known each other for years, but in the back of your mind, you're thinking that she's the best person you know. You guys might go to different schools, and whenever she tells you that she's going to go to the party, you're going to worry about her. You tell yourself that you're worried about her safety, because all guys (including you) are assholes, but really, you're worried that she's going to find someone else. Each time she calls you after the party, and she's sober, you're going to feel relieved. 


Soon after that, you're going to stop and think for a bit. This girl keeps talking about shit you normally don't care about like all of the different nail polishes there are, and you think you don't care about what she has to say, but you're going to go to pharmacy and smile to yourself when you see the nail polish that she was talking about while you're getting shaving cream. Or maybe you guys will go out to eat, and even though you know she hates it when you order her food for her, you do it anyway, just because she looks so cute when she glares at you. Minutes later, when she looks up from her food at you and smiles, you'll feel relieved that she's not really that mad at you. But don't do that all the time, because eventually, it'll annoy her.


On a random weekend, she tells you that she wants to come to your dorm or your apartment so you guys could have that weekend to hang out. You're going to offer her your bed while you sleep on the couch. She'll tell you that it's okay to share the bed, and you have to remind yourself that you can't do anything because she's your best friend. But when she snuggles up close to you, instead of wanting to get in her pants, you're going to find that you're just perfectly happy with the snuggling. The next morning, she doesn't put on her makeup and her hair is just pulled up in a bun, and you're going to think she's the most beautiful girl on the planet. 


Eventually, when she keeps talking about her nails, clothes, hair, and all that other shit that girls are into, you're going to get frustrated. Why the fuck is she treating you like your one of her chick friends? And you're probably going to snap at her, tell her that you're not some faggot, and since she's smart, she doesn't just apologize right away. To her, she doesn't know what she's doing wrong. But you guys are going to get in an argument, and that night, you can't sleep. You swallow your pride, and you pick up your phone and call her. You'll be happy you did.


Years later, if you're still close, you guys are going to admit that you want to be together. When that happens, it's going to be awesome. Yes, you're going to have more random fights, but you just gotta be patient. Because a girl like that comes along once in a lifetime.


Love, 
Dad

I wonder how many people are going to think Merkin's pregnant? She's not. I thought I should clarify that.

4 comments:

  1. I missed your posts terribly. And I knew I wouldn't be disappointed when I saw this sentence, "Don't be ashamed of yourself when the device that you use to eject urine starts to stand up like a meerkat that sees a predator from afar."

    BAHAHAHAHAHA.

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  2. First time I read one of your posts, and let me tell you that this is beautiful.

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  3. please post more. even if it was on a once a week basis. or once every two weeks. gah sorry if im demanding.

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