Look on the bright side, today will be the last time he sees 2020....
Martha was burning with curiosity
That took a lot of balls.
I said, "Can I please just shower in peace?"
She replied, "I have a bag in the freezer if you want some."
I stonefaced her but it brought a tear to me eye, she's gonna be such a good dad. ^(Explanation ^since ^I ^know ^someone ^will ^ask: ^peace ^sounds ^like ^peas)
Do You Hear What I Hear?
Chances are, you'll hear some cross words
Nucleotide Bond
“...my mother was never a young boy.”
- Pretending to pick fleas out of my kids hair and then eating them.
- Waving back at people who clearly aren't waving at me.
- Intentionally missing a high five.
- Pressing the car horn when I'm in the passenger seat and the teenager is driving slowly past other people.
- Answering "Yes dear" in a falsetto voice when one of the kids yells for mum.
What else have you got?
They said their nights were intents....
It was pretty intents
It's Fucking intents
problem is i don't wake up until 7:15
It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”
“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.
Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.
Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.
“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”
“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”
Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.
After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u
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Reddit admins have recently granted ownership of /r/BlackFathers to myself and a group of other Black/POC mods, and it is our intention to make this a positive and supportive community. This is a place where Black/POC fathers and their family, friends, and colleagues can find helpful resources, welcoming content, and a safe space to learn from each other and share our experience.
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I think it followed ocean's ethical cod.
It wasn't intentional, but I rolled with it.
And import.
The N’s justify the means.
They'd be the powerhouse of the cell.
Cuz It's fucking intents
They were angry that I used fowl language
Me and my friends are sitting around the TV and listening listening to you get what you give by the Maine.
My one friend points to me and my other buddy, jim, and asks "didn't U2 do a cover of this?"
To which I reply "no I've never sang with Jim"
This happened today while cooking cookies, it got a bit hectic and things got misplaced.
"Why is there a knife in the fridge?"
"For cold cuts."
So I picked one up and asked 'how much now?'
Chances are, you’ll hear some crosswords.
You may hear some crosswords.
