The Cleft in My Chin...

is a sign of how much my father loved my mum. Loved my mum, but not me that is. If he had, he would have had more patience and waited. My father died in a car accident the day I was born; he was so eager to get to my mum that he ran a red light and plowed right into a garbage truck. Idiot. We never had a chance to sit down and talk about the important things men like to talk about like, basset hounds and motor boats, but I was able to meet him a few times before I was born. Do you know how cleft chins are made? They happen when a man has sex with his wife while she's pregnant. The nuns at my school feel sorry for me. 'Poor Bastard DL,' they say, 'He hasn't got a father; he's a f^cking bastard.' I don't really mind. Maybe I never got to spend more than a few abrupt minutes with the man but I figure that was more than enough time for him to scar me, or at least my chin for life. Maybe it's better this way... now I only have to deal with one F^cked up parent... and her post op tranny lover and only then when I bother to call them which is admittedly not that often mind you. People say you spend your entire adulthood getting over your parents; I figure this way I'll finish up twice as fast and move right on to getting over myself. With all the fucked shit I pull I figure I'll done in no time... I just have to find my Daddy Father Figure to cure me of my cock obsession and I'll be fine and over the terrible scar I walk around with every day. I think I'm actually straight; it's my Daddy Chin Issues that make me a gay whore... Maybe reconstructive surgery can help... I wonder how many dudes I'll have to fuck to pay for that....