One more quick vent

Discussion in 'Substance Abuse' started by Mikey, May 31, 2007.

  1. Mikey

    Mikey Psycho Gorilla Dad

    Friends. Got em? Mr. McWeedyBrain does, but with friends like his, who needs enemies?

    Several of his "friends" were out last night driving in a car when they got into a wreck (hit a curb, tree, or something). I guess the car was loaded with pot and booze, because the stuff went flying everywhere in the car.

    All the "friends" bailed out and ran for it, leaving the poor kid with the busted, undriveable car to face the cops alone. Of course, there's pot leaves everywhere, and booze is soaked into the car seats. Driver gets hit with MIP, but the cops are smart enough to know that one kid couldn't (usually) account for all the illegal substances they found in his car.

    Scared to death, the kid gives the cops the names of all the other passengers who ran off and left him to face the music by himself.

    Some friends, hunh?

    Later today, difficult child gets a call from one of the coward potheads who ran from the scene asking if difficult child wanted to go help beat the crap out of the poor kid they left behind for "squealing to the pigs".

    Friends? Who the heck needs friends like that? I'd rather tie a raw steak around my neck and play with a pack of rabid pit bulls than have friends like that.

    Yet, these are the people that difficult child told my beloved wife were more important to him than she was - on Mother's Day!

    No need to start yet another "my kid is stupid" thread. Just needed a place to get this out of my system.


  2. judi

    judi Active Member

    Sometimes venting is all we can do. My son too "loves" his loser friends. One of his "friends" tried to frame him last summer for breaking and entering!
  3. Sheila

    Sheila Moderator

    In case your difficult child is in to poetry.

    How Many Friends Have You?

    The old man turned to me and asked,
    "how many friends have you?"
    Why, ten or twenty friends have I,
    and named off just a few.
    He rose quite slow with effort and sadly shook his head.
    "A lucky child are you to have so many friends," he said.
    But think what you are saying, there is much that you don't know,
    a friend is not just anyone to whom you say "Hello."
    A friend's a tender shoulder on which to softly cry,
    a well to pour your troubles down, and raise your spirits high.
    A friend's a hand to pull you up from darkness and despair,
    when all your other so-called friends have helped to put you there.
    A true friend is an ally, who can't be moved or bought.
    A voice to keep your name alive when others have forgot.
    But most of all, a friend's a heart, a strong and sturdy wall,
    for from the heart of friends there comes the greatest love of all.
    So think of what I've spoken, for every word is true,
    and answer once again my child, "How many friends have you?"
    And then he stood and faced me, awaiting my reply.
    Soft and sad I answered, "If lucky, one have I."

    Author Unknown
  4. Mikey

    Mikey Psycho Gorilla Dad

    Wow Shelia. That's a great poem. I think I read it a long time ago, but it's wonderful.

    If only I could get my son to read it. But right now, his ODD is in full-tilt overdrive, and I could offer him a million dollars and he'd think I had it marked so I could track how he spent it.

    So, I'll print it out, leave it on his bed, and he'll read it or he won't. But I certainly appreciate you sharing that with me (and everyone here). At some point in your life, these things start to make sense.

    I have another one for you. I'll paraphrase as best as I can, since I can't remember it exactly, nor can I properly attribute it to it's "writeful" owner (pun intended). I think it's a Chinese proverb, though.

    There once was a young man who lived on a farm with his family - his wife, his two sons, a daughter, and his aging father who had owned the farm before him.

    For several years, the farm had not been doing well, and it was all the young man could do to raise enough food to feed his family, much less sell anything to pay the bills.

    In desperation, the young man decided to do away with his old and frail father. That would save on the food he had to feed him, leaving him with some to sell. He could also rent out his father's room. After all, hadn't his father already lived a long and prosperous life? Why should the son have to suffer in his life, while the father simply sat on the porch and watched?

    So the son began to build a box in the front yard. He would put his father in the box, take him to the river, and throw him in near the waterfalls.

    The father watched his son build the box, and asked what he was doing. "Building a box, Father" replied the son, hoping his father thought it was for vegetables from the farm. The father just nodded.

    Early the next day, the son brought his father out and put him in the box, put the box on the wagon and started for the river. The father, who had known all along what was happening, humbly asked his son where they were going. "To the river, Father" the son replied while looking at his feet.

    The father replied "Son, I understand what you're doing, and why. I won't stop you, but please, don't let the box go over the waterfall. When you're done and I'm gone, please keep the box and bury me".

    The son choked up, thinking that his father wanted to be buried at home and said "Father, I don't think I can bear to see you afterwards".

    The father, with a knowing smile on his lips, replied "it's not that son. It's just that you spent so much time making this fine, sturdy box. When you're done, I thought you might want to keep it because some day, your own son might need such a box, and having this one would save him the trouble of having to build it himself.

    Youth is, truly, wasted on the young.

  5. KFld

    KFld New Member


    Hope he doesn't decide to join in on the beating the crap out of the kid!!
  6. Mikey

    Mikey Psycho Gorilla Dad

    <div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: KFld</div><div class="ubbcode-body"> Hope he doesn't decide to join in on the beating the crap out of the kid!! </div></div>

    Nope, he didn't. But at the same time he said he wouldn't try to stop it, either. This came up at wife's "Mom 'n Son" breakfast with him yesterday. wife asked why he felt that way, since he had a car, and how would he feel if all his buddies in the Posse bailed on him and left him to face the cops alone?

    "I wouldn't expect them to hang around, and I wouldn't squeal on them". wife: "So you'd just take the rap by yourself, even though the cops know there's more people involved and would come down hard on you for not telling all you know?"


    Some friends he has. Methinks that he's a better friend to them than they'll ever be to him. In fact, they've already demonstrated that many times over, and everyone sees it but him.

    For some, strange reason, he has a perverse sense of honor that they don't share. I won't call it "pothead solidarity" because he's the only pothead in the group that would act that way.