Chemical_laugh_of_Benzedrine

My Old Man's Boyfriend: The Fuckin' Zookeeper

At this very moment dad is outside in the porch w/a thick
glass of iced mineral water sitting across from his best
friend, Mark, whom he has known for the past seven years,
I'd say. Over this course, they've grown improbably close
and quite frankly, I've grown to dislike it. I can hear
them from where I am at in the den, rooting fanatically
over the game of chess they are haunched over like football
players in a huddle soon to be forgotten. Uncle Mark as
we've grown to call him, works for the Los Angeles Zoo as a
caretaker and is always wearing his tanned cargos up the
ass along w/the matching tanned button-down adorned w/funky
patches of zebras, giraffes and elephants. When daddy gets
upset w/Uncle Mark for cheating, which he does quite often,
he'll usually tell him to "Go back to the fuckin' zoo,
man!" However, Mark is an alright guy. On top of
zookeeping, he's a poet. His poetry is...alright. Well,
actually it's good...just not my choice of latte. Mark will
occassionally come into the house for chilled wine or to
use the toilet. I hate it when he leaves the seat up, that
fuckin' zookeeper....awww, he's alright