— What are you?
— Oh, I have so many names...
— Satan.
— Call me Dad.
Even if yur father is a major ashole, call and tell him you lov him. Even if you don't mean at all. You might mean it later after he is gone forver.
Worm's dad did the grounds, when he wasn't too fuckin' drunk. That's when we did 'em. Of course, the grounds weren't all we did. 'Worm' put us into a scam a day on all the young aristocrats we went to school with selling 'em dime bags of oregano, nunchakus and firecrackers from Chinatown. Kept us in lunch money. Until the time we went for more than just pocket change and got caught. We had the starting five take a dive against Friends Academy. They hauled him up before the school board, offered him a deal. Tell us who else was involved, and we'll go easy on you. 'Worm' didn't say a fuckin' word. Got himself expelled. I stayed in school and graduated. Not many guys would stand up for a friend like that.
As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;
For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Intitled in thy parts, do crownd sit,
I make my love ingrafted to this store:
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,
That I in thy abundance am sufficed,
And by a part of all thy glory live:
Look what is best, that best I wish in thee;
This wish I have, then ten times happy me.
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