“hey dad, guess what!” garrett nickelsen’s daughter ran down the stairs yelling to him. “I got a blog! i’m a blogger now!” garret froze in his spot as memories of his blogging days flashed through his head: teenage girls changing his text posts to emo quotes and lyrics. a tear rolled down his cheek and he whispered “i’m not emo i’m just misunderstood” under his breath
PULL OVER THE FUCKING VAN! Garrett hears someone yell. A smile grows on his face as he rushes to the next room, remembering the good old days. He opens the door just in time to see his son run over a prostitute with a minivan on Grand Theft Auto. Garrett gently closes the door and goes upstairs to listen to Wilco, silently weeping as he climbs each step.