Father forgive me.

So. One day, my pops was taking my sister and I to church, just to drop us off because he doesn’t need to go to church to prove he has a connection with God because he mentions that when I don't ask. And I wanted to remind him that I didn't ask, that he was in the driver's seat for a reason, that he should keep his mouth shut and drive while I sip my virgin daquiri. Sike. I don't mean that. I Love him.

Ye scurvy knaves. What? He's smoking his cigarette like men do when they're nervous or regret children (vis a vis: Matios), but it's balanced by the presence of my sister because she has a promising future even though she laughs at her brothers jokes ... because ... dey r funi.

Graduation time was coming up, my liver was blacker than our power. Or his skin. And since I was leaving for college soon, I wanted to confess to every thing he might be disappointed with ... that he didn't know.

I wanted my right hand to wash my left. I wanted to be clean like Pontious Pilate. I wanted to bathe myself in truth.

So on the drive I admitted to the following:

I smoked weed extensively in elementary school
I got drunk for my first time in 6th grade
I used to steal his cigarettes in 3rd grade and smoke them
I used to take his Old Spice After Shave so I could douse toilet paper and light it on fire.
Once I put the paper inside the bottle and lit it and ran and it exploded like a bomb. Shout out to Yvette, she was right there with me. It was probably her idea.
I drove drunk. Many times. Knowing that I shouldn’t have.
I’d driven without a license.
I’d driven drunk many times knowing that I shouldn’t have without a license.
And I respected women.

But the strange thing about fathers is that even when they lose hope, they still have hope. And that's a beautiful thing. But he didn't believe me. So. Now it's on the internets so I can't run for president because they'll have ammo.

UNLESS WE ACCOUNT FOR THE FACT THAT PRESIDENTS ALSO:
Smoked weed, did cocaine, dropped bombs AND had children with their SLAVES! KN'AMSAYING!!

In which I case do have a chance since people do change and aren't slaves to their pasts. In which case you may call me Mr. President. In which case I do not want a secretary. No matter how "ugly".