Thanks a lot.

First, you bestow upon me the glorious honor of carrying your entire name.

Next, you divorce my mom.

Then, you move two states away.

Then, we move ten states away.

You're on the Gulf Coast.

We're on the west coast.

Then, I don't hear from you for years.

Then you come up and show your "support" during my surgeries.

You hastily make an excuse as to why you need to leave.

And then you disappear from the face of the fucking planet.

Which was and is fine with me.

And then we get a letter from the jolly old IRS.

Oh? What's that? I'm wanted for tax evasion? In 1996?

I didn't even work then.

Oh, here's the problem, they've got the SSN mixed up.

"Hello, IRS? Yes, there seems to be a problem. See, my dad and I have the same name, and I think there's been a bit of a mixup here. So if you could just correct that and make sure we're not on your Most Wanted list, that'd be great. Thanks."

And then we check our bank account.

And we find out that some of our wages have been garnished by none other than the US fucking GOVERNMENT for tax evasion.

All because YOU, my ever so fucking caring, responsible, socially inept sperm donor of a fucking father, isn't paying his freaking taxes!

You asshole.

This is your legacy?