I'm listening to Willie Nelson right now and thinking about my dad because my dad loves Willie Nelson. Willie Nelson, screwdrivers, and boxing. If my dad were to die and I had to give the eulogy, all I would be able to say would be:

"Ronnie. His friends and fellow inmates called him Capper. He used to weld, he liked to drink screwdrivers, he loved Willie Nelson, and nothing got him more excited than a boxing match. We'll miss you dad."

*sigh*

My mom's a basketcase alcoholic, my dad's an ex-con, my grandparents are frighteningly religious...no wonder I'm so fucked up.