Call 911!…..or Jerry Springer….

Poppa J was admitted into the hospital on Sunday. 

I feel as though I’m writing the final chapter, though no one has any idea how long he has. Before December is all I was told.

Had to stop by the house to check on Dart and shower. I’m pretty sure I smell like Ron Jeremy’s nutsack on the 4th of July.

Dad’s lawyer came Monday morning to finalize the will and some other things. Despite what he represents, I liked him. Apparently, my dad and him became good friends, prior to my dad’s condition.

I had no idea my father was an aspiring Donald Trump. He had a lot more investments than I realized. I was starting to feel overwhelmed and the attorney could see it. When I walked him to the car, he told me he’d help me anytime I needed, free of charge. He seems like an honorable man, but I just don’t trust people.

My dad told me yesterday that he wanted to see my mom one last time. I protested because I KNOW her only interest is what she can gain. But he told me she was on her way up (she only lives 2 hours away) and she had the right to know. i refuse to argue with a man on his death bed. It’s not my place to say anyway.  

I haven’t seen my mom since I was 16. Almost ten years. Those ten years really took a toll on her. Actually, the drugs really took a toll on her. I believe my mother would look ageless if she had kicked the habit. The mom I remember growing up had a classic beauty. Like, Audrey Hepburn had nothing on her you know? But the woman I saw yesterday could make Courtney Love look classy. Remember kids, say no to drugs or else you’ll like a diseased old bag of balls (what is with me and balls today? Good lord).

She brought along her newest boy toy (late 20’s edition)…or as I was correct, "He has a name and it’s Steven." Fuck me running. STEVEN is your stereotypical west coast hipster, complete with no shame and a "trendy" mullet (NEWS FLASH PEOPLE, A MULLET WILL NEVER LOOK COOL). Who also kept staring at my chest. Maybe I’ll nickname him Sleezen. Whatever. If my mother has resorted to humping hipsters for meds…so be it. It’s her life, something I am no longer associated with.

Did I also mention how good of an actress my mother is? You spend a couple of hours with her, and you’ll be saying "My God Harlow, I had no idea your mother was Meryl Streep." I expect her to take a bow half the time. I could only handle half an hour of her antics before I had to excuse myself. And here is where things get sticky.

I went to waiting area to get coffee. Where Steven (Sleezen?) was there on his phone. He apparently didn’t see me, because I heard him say "We’re running a little late. We just have to see how much money she’s going to get." 

It’s funny when moments like that happen. It’s like time freezes. Then slow motion kicks in. You can blame it on the stress of my dying father. You can blame it on my over protectiveness. Or you can just call me a bitch child. But the second he hung up the phone and turned around, I decked him.

I’ve never been afraid to speak my mind and argue with a person till they pass out, but I hate physical confrontation. 90% of the time, you look fucking stupid. But I CAN fight. My father made sure of that. 

The damage? I broke his nose (and his stupid sunglasses), and cops were called. No charges were pressed..but the day took on a slightly more dramatic feel than I wanted. Then again, I should have seen something like this coming. Nothing feels more white trash than a family feud at a hospital. Ugh. I became that girl. BUT, I don’t regret it. And if I could do it again, I would have aimed for the balls (BALLS AGAIN!)

Maybe that lawyer will come in handy.