Venture Bros. [...] Funny shit & worth watching if you have never seen it...
The uberthug bruiser who was in charge of my dad when he was institutionalized in Bothell --geographically equidistant from both my mother's house and her sister's place in... wait for it... KIRKLAND KINGSATE, omfg so pretentious, though probably not to you, Punylings, you know nothing, YOU ARE NOT LIKE PEASANTS, BELLGAB: YOU ARE GODDAM PEASANTS NOW, RAAAWR-- introduced himself as... Brock. Kinda shame-facedly. Maybe he was expecting me to joke about chopping broccoli and to ask him for some coke? Dunno.
But he cheered markedly, when I replied with, "Like in Venture Bros.! Cool!" and he relaxed some. I think he must have known that I instantly recognized him for what he really was... head of Security, the squad assigned to keep me from "undesirably affecting" my father's... care.
You dorks here in Bellgab are way, way, WAY late to the party. People have been forming plunder- and rape-gangs to destroy my "family" and take everything I ever had or everything I was ever gonna have, without killing me because--murder would be wrong! also I was to be sold intact to certain rape-centric groups, because I have pissed them off over the years, lemme tell ya--and at that point, my father was obviously in need of care... and those who watched and waited and had FOR YEARS, saw it as their time to strike.
It could arguably be said that I enabled him to kill himself, in that I drove him to the grocery store, because he asked, and he walked in alone while I sat in his "Found On Road Dead: Explorer" and... I forget. Texted, read... studied. I didn't need to birddog him as he wandered around the store, and he didn't like to be seen or to be asking for help.
This dude used to RUN THROUGH THE FOREST, CAUGHT BIRDS IN HIS BARE HANDS, AND ATE THEM RAW. I'm not gonna say he swallowed them whole, because he didn't. My father was not reptilian-ish at all. But I don't doubt he ripped the guts out of a raw bird once or twice, and gnawed on the bones of game birds after stripping them of their flesh with his teeth, not because he couldn't wait for them to cook, but because he was hungry while cooking them. And raw eggs are a delicacy. Finding a pheasant in the brush of the Hungarian valley in the 1940s was pretty easy.
Actually finding a nest with eggs in it, much harder, to be sure. And while of course he would eat eggs raw--Rocky was a pussy! Look at him in that movie, struggling to choke them down! Dude! EGGS ARE A DELICACY! What could be nicer than finding a pile of wild, ready-to-eat Hungarian balut?
That was my father. I've remoted viewed parts of his youth. The dude was practically a machine, if the purpose of the machine was to hunt and kill and eat and be a drunken Pisces asshole. He was never able to tell me what time he was born, and I couldn't ask anyone who might know, so I was not able to calculate his ascendant sign.
Probably Ophiuchus-- the sign of The Dragon. Because for whatever reason, this man who had such "potential" didn't quite meet the standards of the uberoverlords who arranged to ferry him from Europe to Seattle. Because when I got to know him, he was in his 40s, and he must have really pissed a lot of people off.
A former hero. Nobody really put up with him anymore, from what I saw. Now, of course he blamed my mother and I, because drunken Pisces, for one thing, but for another, I"m sure it was my dingbat mother's fault, and her carpet-bagged and fucked up family. HER family. Not mine. Oh, no. We are ESTRANGED.
I'll never get to know how things got that far until after my death. I don't really want to know. I bet he was an asshole, yeah, but did he deserve the punishment he got? Maybe he deserved more!
Now... did I deserve any of the shit that spilled over on me? Oh, I would say not, mos def. I also didn't deserve to have my ass sold out to traffickers and to have my penis mutilated for (no explanation given) and when I found out that he had insisted on the procedure, over my mother's protests... AND HE HIMSELF WAS NOT, I was like, "I will find out the reason for this and it will be a good one or I will make this man suffer."
Well... he suffered, alright, but not because of me and my choices. I didn't find out until many, many years later, and it was after my parents had both died. So, they already knew by the time I told them, and they had always known the truth--yeah, it probably did seem unjust, but, it was worth it. And could they tell me? Shit, they didn't know themselves. MY PARENTS WERE DINGBATS.
Enter Brock. He was a well-built man in his late 20s or mid 30s, and he did, in fact, look like Brock. He ooooobviously was skilled in close-quarters combat. Couldn't tell if he was military, but, since i met him at his job as a "blah-blah co-ordinator" at a residential elder health care facility, he was probably imagining that he didn't want to, you know, set me off. Because at this point in The History Of The World, little Mikey Kuczi, Son of Ivan, who was terrible, yeah, back then people just thought I was Rain Man with a taste for O.D. on psych meds.
Oh, if they had known the truth. More on that later. For now, know this: I love the Venture Bros., I loved the character of Brock, and I knew that this guy's job was ultimately going to be, "Sorry kid; your father is not accepting you as a visitor, you've been disinherited, and too bad your mother is dead, kid--I guess you're homeless now. Beat it. Scram. Vamoose, dude. You get it? You had your chance, NOW YOU LIVE IN THE GUTTER, FUCKER!" and then a boot-to-the-head and a kick-in-the-ass, or whatever grown up bully-bitch thugs imagine they are gonna do to the adult kids that they don't usually get to bully in public anymore. That's what they are all dreaming of.
Beat the shit out of me in public, and... get away with it in public. Not to be seen as a bullying piggy-thuggy villain, no! But as... The Hero. (*The crowd goes wild as exhortations from The Understudy are heard: "Gaston! Take his ears as a trophy!" But, Gaston is just a character, right?
Yeah. So is Brock.*)
The Man Who Taught Micheal Kuczi How To Spell His Own Name Rite. Well, shit, I can't hardly blame her. Him. Them.
Whatevah. Let me tell you how it ended up:
I inherited everything as his wife desired, and he died first, so the matter all those Gov't-funded employees were so concerned about, ooh, they thought I was abusing my parents, huh? Thought I needed to be instutionalized, huh? Thought I was doing the same to my mother, huh? Yeah, fuck you, Leslie Boing-Boing, you are an overly-entitled smarmy lying bitch, and your little dog Beulah is too.
Brock ended up losing his certification to work in that industry. So I am sure they sheep-dipped him into another position somewhere else. ADDITIONALLY: this information I have never revealed before, in public or in private, so here goes, (I'm making my move, you dig?) buddy?
BROCK WAS ASSIGNED TO WORK AT THE (BLANK) HUT. WHEN I WAS 19. "I did not recognize him immediately," I lied.
No wonder "autisti with face-blindness" was something some of you tard-monkeys found yourselves forced into believing. Look, I'm a goddam genius mastermind NOT a coyote OR a shock-fueled loudmouth.
Venture Bros. is live-streaming old episodes on the Adult Swim channel...
Too bad you can't just download them anymore, Fedstar Baldmunch Boxfucker. Hey, after all that, you got any... point? To even existing? I guess you are cute, sure.
You're gonna lose face, face facts. Admit it. I beat you. I beat you all. And: I warned ye. Ye were warned. And ye all failed. I am left Supreme. Isn't it nice that I'm being subtle and vague about it? I'm not even gonna fuck your mother! I'm not gonna fuck anybody's mother! (Uh... Bestie picked me out a clone. Don't worry about it. You people are fucking psychotic freaks, right? But even worse... you're fucking way, way too just plain
nosy.)
I even came back and saved you all, again and again and again. So fuckin' hit the bricks, pal, and go beat someone else's buddy-boy. I know that what is mined will return to me.
MINE.
So there.
