Quote: UncleBobWhen I was a young child, my father liked the sauce. He would typically stumble in drunk around 11 at night. Usually, my mother and him would get into a fight and us kids would woken by by the sounds of him yelling, smacking her around and her moans and tears.
I remember one night in particular - my sisters and I were outside playing on our bikes when it started raining. We ran into the house, in from the rain and watched some TV. After dinner, we played Uno with Mom, then went to bed.
As usual, our father stumbled in late that night... but tonight was a little different. You see, in our haste to come in from the rain, we had left our bikes in the driveway... and when Dad pulled in, he smashed into all three of them with his pick-up. He was angry. Now, we didn't often see Dad angry - truth is, when he wasn't drinking, he was a pretty decent father. When he was drinking, he usually came home late enough that we were in bed and our mother, bless her soul, would usually shield us from him. Sadly, I don't think there's a thing in the world that could shield us, or her, from his anger that night. He burst into my bed room, yanked me out of bed by my shirt collar and tossed me into the hallway. As I lay there, crying and rug burn, he slammed open my sisters' door and repeated a similar action with them. I watched as their bodies flew into the hallway in a clumsy pile. Dad started to take off his belt and swing it wildly about. Now, Dad wasn't much for sports or anything that took much hand-eye coordination, and combining his lack of talent with the liquor he had consumed that evening only meant that if he was aiming for some part of us in particular (like our backsides), he was doomed from the start. After a few lashes, my mother stepped in between him and us. Years later, my oldest sister said that my mother had been hanging onto his swinging arm, trying to pull him off us, but I cannot speak about that, as I was too busy trying to shield my face from the blunt of the belt.
But I do recall Mom getting between him and us and yelling at him to stop and leave. Unfortunately for her, my father wasn't the type of man to take direction from a woman even when he wasn't drunk and angry. I'm not sure exactly what happened at this point. I may have still been mostly shielding my own face, but I think I've just blocked out most of it over the years. I just remember the screams of my mother and I remember seeing how terribly beaten she was the next day. At some point, my father must have relented, because he left.
We never saw him again after that night. Years later, I know my mother claimed to be divorced, but I don't ever remember any evidence of it.
But when he never came home, I cried. Not because I lost my father, or because he had just severely beaten me, my sisters and my mother. But because he had my Silver Boomer in his truck and I never saw it again.
Only the last part of that is a lie.
If you want to help keep little kids from crying, I can give you the names of a couple of organizations who can really use your help. None of them are Activision selling toys to kids.
Wow.
Although I believe you to be a very professional troll artist, I do also believe that you're an honest troll, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt here and assume that you're telling the truth (aside from the Silver Boomer part obviously).
Two things: 1. I am VERY sorry to hear about these circumstances. Your story is unfortunately all-too-common story in the modern USA culture. Domestic violence is a cancer on our society, and it teaches the next generation to devalue the sanctity of life, and children end up raised in an environment where the definition of love is bastardized and where pain is an expectation. It's wrong on every level, and it's one very important reason why people must step-up and alert authorities when they see or strongly suspect signs of domestic abuse. 2. This tale does explain a lot about you, UncleBob. A lot of your anti-social antics make a lot more sense when this light is shined upon them. And while this doesn't excuse you from your professional trolling activities, it does help explain them. And for what it's worth, you have my sympathy (I know you didn't ask for it), and I personally hope that you find peace.