Inside Doug's Head

I am not a number, I am… What's that stuff they make glue out of? I'm that. Forever swirling, forwards and upwards, but always sticky. Sometimes, a little sad.

A social responsibility charity that I would like to start is, Overbearing Big Fathers. It would be exactly like Big Brothers, a limited liability charitable organization, except instead of giving its clients the unconditional emotional and personal support they require, it would provide a very different service. You see, there are people out there in this world who seem to be lacking the guidance and social feedback that only an opinionated, incipient alcoholic father can give. Sadly, not everyone has access to one of those, and this charity would help to change that disparity.

OBF would provide a source of largely inappropriate but overwhelmingly necessary feedback to people who are medically lacking social self-awareness, hopefully helping them to make better decisions in the future. Have you ever come through a difficult situation that you thought you handled pretty well? Maybe it was a problem with a demanding boss at work, or awkwardly trying to split the dinner bill with a group of friends. You don’t want to seem cheap, but you weren’t the one who ordered all the appetizers. Whatever the cause, if you thought you dealt with it appropriately, OBF would be there to let you know how much better you could have done. A nonsensical verbal berating is just the thing you need.

What was that about? You have the awkward sweaty demeanor of a serial killer, and not in a good way. Especially around that girl you like. What’s her name? Emily? Sarah? Good luck getting her to go out with you, now. She’s terrified to be alone with you—she’ll want her mother to chaperone just to make sure you don’t murder her and stuff her in a suitcase. You’ll never get to any of the bases while her mom is watching you. Oh, yeah, what was that dumpster you were riding in? The one that crashed and caught fire with you in it, just outside the restaurant. Yeah, good job, Romeo. You know, Romeo killed himself because he was a sad overprivileged loser, too? Spoiler alert, Shakespeare! Pathetic. That’s you, just terrible and pathetic. You’re soft and overemotional like your mother. Soft and weird. Oh, and your face. I’ve been wanting to say something to you about your face… Do you think you could do something about how it looks and smells? Maybe cover it with something, thick, like a plastic bag. It’s your sister’s turn to wear the dress tonight, so put something else on.

It would continue like that for a really long time. Years, maybe, or until someone started crying. Probably you, since OBF would only recruit the hardest professional fathers from places like State prisons and the Guatemalan insane asylums of Quetzalacatenango, hidden deep in the rain forests of South America.

Never in the field of human conflict has so much abuse been heaped upon so many by so few. Okay, Pudding Cup, now go get your purse and I’ll learn you how to back-up a truck and trailer.


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