World's Funniest Dad- excerpt.

 This is what I've written on a book about my father. This is probably all I'll post here, as I want to make many a Shekels on this, and giving this away for free doesn't do that!

There is a man who lives in a small town, amassing what might be the largest collection of crap outside of a junkyard. His name is Kevin, also know as WFD, or World's Funniest Dad. He came from a modest home in the Ghetto of Cleveland. Growing up, he had many siblings, and perhaps few possessions of his own. Maybe he makes up for it presently, taking in everything he can, and keeping it, despite not having the vaguest clue what to do the majority of it. Some say it was because his grandfather was a hoarder, providing ambiguous scientific proof that hoarding is a disease. Regardless of circumstances, There is a large man child with too much crap, not enough space, and no shame.

Chapter 1

My earliest memories of Kevin were some guy who walked me to the bus stop as a child. I wasn't exactly sure who he was, since he was always at work. I saw him sleeping here and there, so he at least lived in the same house. The dog seemed to like him, so that was good enough for me. Dogs are always great judges of characters right ? So he never particularly felt like a father to me, hence why I've always refereed to him as Kevin, or Kevo. There was one thing I always remember him being angry about money. This was due to his horrible spending addictions. The man made decent money at his once job, and worked a second job making pies. Despite this, he would spend stupid amounts of money on Porn, Guns, and crap.

Porn was always his main addiction. I remember dropping a toy next to the couch when I was 5, and pulling out a hardcore magazine. Guess some of learn early right ? There were numerous stashes all over the house. My favorite was the pile behind the front door, hidden by a coat. It was a stack of Playboys and various porn magazines with a coat just haphazardly thrown on top. Since who would ever think of looking behind the front door? That's just a crazy idea! Eventually my mom found out my brother and I were looking at it, and yelled at Kevo about it. This was their main form of communication, like most married couples. Kevin moved it, and asked us to show him where this supposed stack of “smut” was. Then when we checked behind the front door, it was gone. Kevin replied that there was never anything there in the first place. Father of the year, all years! He later decided to put a 6 foot spear behind the door, in case the Jehovah's Witnesses get uppity.

Luckily he had more piles and caches hidden everywhere in the house. In my parent's bedroom were two nightstands. My mom's was pretty standard, Kevin's however, was packed with Adult Literature. There were many magazines about incests, various made up hot sex stories, and of course the standard Playboys. I remember my younger brother use to run home and read these. Such a great childhood we had, I feel bad for kids with normal dads. As we got older, we found out how much more he had hoarded all over the place. My personal favorite was the hidden supply upstairs. The upstairs is basically one giant room packed with crap, but more on that later. When Sean and I were young, we had a ton of comics, like most kids. When we got bored with them, my parents took them and saved them upstairs. When we got a few years older, nostalgia set in and we wanted to reread our comics. So we had to adventure upstairs to find our hidden treasures.

The second story of my house, or upstairs, is a half story. The roof is steeped, but there is a staircase leading up to it. As long as I remember the upstairs has been a mess. Its pretty much pile after pile of junk, and instead of the walls being lined with insulation, they are lined with crap, and covered with panels. The stairs were covered with magazines, books, gun parts, clothes, and essentially any crap you can imagine. To complete the picture, the entire floor is stuck in the 70s. The stairs and the entire area are covered with hideous bright red shag carpeting. Which, as far as my knowledge goes, has never been vacuumed. I suppose when everything else is such a dirty mess, why try and clean anything. You can find almost anything upstairs, its like a antique dealer, or garage saler's dream. There are telephones without numbers, Guns, medals, 1000s of keys, clothes from the 70s- present day, old school board games, and of course Porn.

When we went up there, climbing over the many mountains of junk, til we saw some comic boxes. After we had reached our destination, we saw a 32” or so television, with a VCR hooked up to it. We had found his porn room, or more accurately, corner. There were a bunch of VHS( you kids don't know what those are) scattered around. In this location there was even a big ass rubber bin filled with more magazines. With great titles like Black White Ecstasy, which was hilarious. I believe this was our first experience with his love of nigger cocks, and white women. More often that not, anal sex was involved with these acts. In any case, we took our comics and left this unique scene. Only to speak out if years later, in a more comedic manner of course.