Julian Assange.
You are the owner of wikileaks.com.
You have authorized 90,000 documents that put our soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan at serious risk.
You sir, are similar to a fat leetch on the back of society.
Nothing more.
You made a decision to compromise American soldiers.
YOU are the worst American on Earth.
I have a blog and I could sell no more than probly 500 Americans down the river, and make millions more than you. I know what Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore ate for dinner last night… FACT.
But you sell out our troops.
Wikileaks, and your documents aren’t necessary.
You have blood on your hands.
The Moment…
I had the “big question” today.
The perfect Mama Bird is on vacation for two days.
So It’s Boston and I.
And he asked me…
“Pop can I have some friends over and play peer bong?”
………….
…………
………..
I just didn’t know how to answer at first.
My response was this…
I need 6 minutes.
And he laughed, cause he knew I was grindin.
My kid is an amazing kid. His friends are good people. They aren’t burnout types. They are all committed to what’s important to them as individuals. They aren’t punks.
That bein said, I said I needed all the kids that were gonna be there needed their parents to call me so I could make sure that they were ok with the personal decisions their almost adult children were making.
That was immediately shot down.
And my child, my boy man, most certainly went elsewhere to beerpong.
But THREE things happened…
A. I know my child will make a smart decision, and I’m very lucky we talk.
B. When he said no, I didn’t have to be the parent that let’s kids drink around me, wondering if I have made a decision for other parents.
C. I was able to set a new precedent for my friends. Something I wasn’t smart enough to thing about, but through MY experience and my trust in Boston, we figured out so we can help others.
This is the worst connundrum ever for a parent.
I have to say, if i had permission from every parent in the building I woulda presided over underage drinking. I woulda taken their keys and they woulda slept over my watchful eye.
Instead, Boston decided against that proposition, and definitely went and drank elsewhere.
But I stood firm. And honestly, I did, because I know my son would call me if he was hammered. He would’t drive. And if he was in trouble, I’d know.
Teenagers tell their parents 30 percent of what is going on.
Maybe naively, I think I know 75.
Either way, I just feel really lucky to have the dialogue I have with him.
This shit is really hard. For every parent in America.
I have no clue if I even did right.
I just know my kid feels SAFER.
Boston knows mom and dad are gonna understand, hear him, give him an honest answer, and grow.
Thank God for his Mama.
Bird, I love you….