• written by Brauds Staff Editor Scant

I am writing you today because as I sit here in front of a computer at work, I realize, you owe me child support for the last 25 years. How is that possible you ask? Obviously, I’ve gotten through the last quarter century on my own, and you’ve done absolutely dick to help me. Where were you all those times I needed you? How many times have I said “dear god, please help me this one time,” and I haven’t heard shit back? Well, it’s payback time, pops.

This lawsuit can’t come as a shock to you, and you can’t deny that you don’t know who I am — because sometimes when something goes horribly wrong in my life I swear I can hear you laughing your ass off in the background. I’m almost positive that I have the #1 rated reality show in heaven, I just need someone to cross back over to prove it so I can sue your ass for royalties too.

Let me start off with the beginning. Do you remember making me in the late 70s? Or were you nose deep in coke and women like a celestial Tony Montana? Well, incase you forget, you made my legs too little to reach my big wheel so my REAL father had to tie blocks to my pedals. Thanks, dad.

While we’re flashing back, do you remember how the 1st grade was for me? I had to walk down to in front of the girls’ bathroom to drink from their water fountain because my still underdeveloped, midget legs were too short for me to drink from the guys’ water fountain. Did you hear the laughter? You had to…. because the rest of the kids did and emptied into the hallway to join in.

How about the 3rd grade? That must bring a little chuckle to you, big guy, huh? How could you forget the fucking Chinese kid with braces and cauliflower ear pointing at me and mumbling the words “short-round,” and sparking a nickname that took me five years to shake off the effects of. Amazing that those were his first two words of English, wasn’t it?

And wow, 8th grade… How comical was that I thought rose-colored glasses were in style? You couldn’t give me a sign? You sent the Guardian Angel down to let Mary know she’s pregnant yet you couldn’t send me a fucking post-it that these things would come back to haunt me in photos for the rest of my life? You could have wrote it in my Etch-A-Sketch and I would have been fine with it.

Puberty, wasn’t that funny. The all-boy high school was a nice touch, and I really appreciate the uneven distribution of facial hair — it clearly makes me and Danny DeVito distinguishable. I also love the fact that you helped me build character by not helping me in the women department at all. I could have been dipped in chocolate sauce and sugar coated and still not a fat chick on the planet would have touched me back then. Was that a white-head shotgun or an acne machine gun you used to make those pimples pop up all over my face? Man, Yahweh, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?

And don’t even try to smooth things over by taking credit for anything that happened during college. I have $40,000 in deferred college loans to prove I did that shit all myself.

I like how I hear at church that we’re all children of God. If that’s true, why does J.C. get all the attention? That’s right, I said it. All of us have been thinking the same thing but no one had the balls to say it. What the hell, between Mel Gibson filming movies about him and Creed making songs about him — you think God would spread a little bit of attention away from Jesus. You always liked him better. Oh, he’s the prodigal son. We’ve heard all the nice things you say about him. “Hey nice job cleaning up the house J.C,” or “That a boy, what a good job you did dying for people’s sins, Junior.” What about when I got 2nd honors in grade school? You didn’t say two fucking words.

Shit even you even give Moses gets more attention than us. You helped him split the red sea with ease yet it took me 18 years, two bottles of wine, and a dozen broken promises to finally get a girl to part her sea. But, I’m just being jealous, right?

Well, since I’m obviously upset and feel like I’ve been cheated….I’m making a list of demands I want as restitution for 25 years of lost child support. Here they are, in no specific order.

___1. I’d like to be 6’5’’, and the reseeding hairline better disappear like in an infomercial. Wait a minute, fuck that, everyone should be changed to 5’5’’, why should I have to adjust. Good luck finding pants that don’t need to be hemmed, jerk-offs.

___2. You take Adam Sandler up there with you. Happy Gilmore was humorous, since then he’s 0-35 and has been about as funny as the Nick Berg video.

___3. Stop playing that creepy Quizno’s commercial with the scary fucking singing gerbil/rat hybrid. I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks.

___4. I’d like anyone who drives a Jetta, wears sandals with socks or shops at Abercrombie & Fitch to be cremated. Their ashes will be dumped in the low carb salad of that French-loving, twat-mongrel Kate Hudson.

___5. I want two Russian girls hooking up at all times to follow me 24-7. Hey, church will be more interesting for the both of us, won’t it Big-Poppa?

___6. I demand the A.I. (artificial intelligence) in the Madden video game series to accurately depict that of the real NFL. Next time I fumble the fucking ball with 30 seconds left in the 4th quarter I’m looking up at you, chief.

___7. Breasts should be bigger and less covered up.

___8. All money made by Mike Myers for Shrek and Shrek 2 should be taken away and given to everyone who paid to see Austin Powers 2 and Austin Powers 3. After those five people get their money back I get to keep the rest.

___9. Monday Night Football happens on Tuesdays too. We’ll come up with a name for it later.

___10. Women should multiply like Gremlins when they get wet or you eat them after midnight.___

I’m hoping we can keep this out of the court system, and come to a healthy resolve for both parties. Perhaps, someday, you and I can go to family counseling together and try and get this put behind us. Please, it’s not too late to make a difference. Only you can make up for this horrible life you gave me and make a somebody out of a nobody. You did it for Rob Schneider, now I ask that you do it for me.

_____________________________________________Your son,

_____________________________________________Scant.