So daddy is utterly narcissistic

So daddy is utterly narcissistic, and loves to put me down, in not so subtle ways: You look fat today, Kim. You have a giant zit in on your chin (Hey asshole, thanks for stating the obvious). He also has dragon's breath. How do you tell someone that?
But as fucked up and horrible as he is, he does give me money. He did help me with homework while I was still in school. He did (try to) comfort me during bouts of recurring nightmares involving transvestite serial killers with staple guns. He did take me to the hospital when I fell off my tricycle and dislocated my shoulder, and later, when I almost pulled a Jimi Hendrix and choked on my own vomit.
My mom on the other hand, decided that I was a curse. The breast-feeding was deforming and exhausting her. The diaper-changing was just plain shitty. She had gotten hideous stretch marks she'd never recover from. And surely, she was fed up with douchebag daddy. One day she drove off, into the sunset like a cowboy. She sent two postcards. I still have them. One was from Atlantic City, New Jersey and the other one from Hawaii. Generic greetings. No: I love you. Nothing.
But still, I really don't hold it against her. I probably would have done the same thing.

P.S Hey, follow my blog. It would make me happy.

XXX, Kim