i was born the son of a black man (well, sort of) and a donor egg. i grew up in the lap of luxury. my father unveiled me to the world with a blanket about my head. it’s okay that he nearly dropped me from the balcony, because at least we were holed up in a 5 star hotel in the ‘bestest’ city in europe. he was the best father a kid could’ve ever had.
when he spoke to me –which was only after having watched loads of hours of disney movies on our monstrous flatscreen TV in his bedroom (and just prior to his loading up on jesus juice), he never ever talked down to me. he wasn’t like those dads on TV. no. you see, he was just like me.
*this post is copyright ‘a blog about whatever’ 2009.* but plz by all means, send it around.