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Justin Halpern - Sh*t My Dad Says

Here you can read online Justin Halpern - Sh*t My Dad Says full text of the book (entire story) in english for free. Download pdf and epub, get meaning, cover and reviews about this ebook. year: 2010, publisher: It Books, genre: Detective and thriller. Description of the work, (preface) as well as reviews are available. Best literature library LitArk.com created for fans of good reading and offers a wide selection of genres:

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Justin Halpern Sh*t My Dad Says

Sh*t My Dad Says: summary, description and annotation

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Amazon.com Review **Photographs from *Sh*t My Dad Says* ** **(Click on Thumbnails to Enlarge)** I have no idea why Im sopping wet in this photo, but Im going to guess its because I rolled in something filthy or spilled something on myself. Hosing me down was my dads favorite method for cleaning me off.Here I am with my dad in his garden, which he adores and whose upkeep he takes very seriously. Its my first love, besides your mother and horse racing. And you and your brothers, too, I suppose, hes said.My dad used to carry me on his shoulders quite a bit when I was a child--until the time I accidentally urinated on him while I was up there. We were at a neighbors house and he quickly ran outside, threw me off, ripped off his shirt, then hosed me down like he was from the CDC and Id come in contact with the Ebola Virus. My dad is an avid reader, and all throughout my childhood hed come home after working for 12 hours and wed sit on the couch and read together.My familys trip to the Grand Canyon in 1983 was one of only two family vacations we took. It coincided with the time when my dad started to lose his hair, and decided hed wear hats to mask his increasing baldness. It wasnt long before he changed his tune, tossed the caps, and decided he didnt care what anyone else thought. * * * Review A fun gift book that is bound to crack up anyone who flips through it. (Los Angeles Times ) Sh*t My Dad Says is f***** great!...Very funny, very irreverent, very real. Its refreshing at a time when were all choking to death on political correctness and can go for days without meeting a single person with common sense. (Janet Evanovich, Time Magazine ) If youre wondering if there is a real man behind the quotes on Twitter, the answer is a definite and laugh-out-loud yes. (Christian Lander, New York Times bestselling author of Stuff White People Like ) This book is ridiculously hilarious, and makes my father look like a normal member of society. (Chelsea Handler ) Shoot-beer-out-your-nose funny. (Maxim ) Read this unless youre allergic to laughing. (Kristen Bell ) Justin Halperns dad is up there with Aristotle and Winston F*cking Churchill. Hes brilliant, and his sons book is absolutely hilarious. (A.J. Jacobs, New York Times bestselling author of The Know-It-All ) Justin Halpern tosses lightning bolts of laughter out of his pocket like he is shooting dice in a back alley. In one sweep of a paragraph, he ranges from hysterical to disgusting to touchingand does it all seamlessly. Sh*t My Dad Says is a really, really funny book. (Laurie Notaro, New York Times bestselling author of The Idiot Girls Action-Adventure Club )

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Sh*t My Dad Says
Justin Halpern

For my dad mom Dan Evan Jos and Amanda Thank you for all your love and - photo 1

For my dad, mom, Dan, Evan, Jos, and Amanda
Thank you for all your love and support

Contents

All I ask is that you pick up your shit so you dont leave your bedroom looking like it was used for a gang bang. Also, sorry that your girlfriend dumped you.

When I was twenty-eight years old, I lived in Los Angeles and was in the third year of a long-distance relationship with my girlfriend, who lived in San Diego. Most Fridays Id sit in traffic for three and a half hours as my 1999 Ford Ranger crawled 126 miles down the I-5 to San Diego. Every once in a while my car would decide to shut off its engine. Meanwhile, its radio was busted, so I only got one station, whose playlist seemed limited to songs from the burgeoning rapper Flo Rida. Theres nothing like merging onto a freeway only to have your engine stop, steering wheel lock, and a deejay scream, And heres MY MAN , Flo Rida, with his new hit Right Round! Lets get this party started!

In short, doing the long-distance thing was wearing on me. So when I received a job offer in May 2009 from Maxim.com that would allow me to work from anywhere, I jumped at the opportunity. I could move down to San Diego and live with my girlfriend. The only hitch in my plan was that my girlfriend was not as excited as I was. And by not as excited, I mean to say that when I showed up at her doorstep to deliver the good news in person, she broke up with me.

Driving away from her house, I realized that not only was I now single, I had no place to live since I had already told my landlord in Los Angeles that I was terminating my lease at the end of the month. Then my engine shut off. As I sat in my car vigorously trying to restart it, it dawned on me that the only people I knew in San Diego who might have room for me were my parents. My stomach started to tense up as I turned the key back and forth in the ignition. It also dawned on me that the family barbecuing on the deck of the house in front of which my car had stalled just might think I was a perv whod pulled over to pleasure himself. Luckily my car started up within a minute and I sped off for my parents house.

The reason I had become so nervous so quickly was because asking my father for a favor is like arguing a case in front of the Supreme Court: You have to lay out the facts clearly, organize them into an argument, and cite precedents set in previous cases. Shortly after showing up unannounced at my parents modest three-bedroom house in our San Diego suburb, Point Loma, I was pleading my case before my parents in the living room. I cited My Dad v. My Brother Daniel Halpern, which led to my brother Dan living at home when he was twenty-nine and going through a transitional phase. About halfway through my argument, my dad cut me off.

Its fine. Jesus, you didnt have to go through that whole bullshit song and dance. You know you can stay here. All I ask is that you pick up your shit so you dont leave your bedroom looking like it was used for a gang bang, he said. Also, sorry that your girlfriend dumped you.

The last time I had lived at home was ten years prior, during my sophomore year at San Diego State University. At the time, both my parents workedmy mother, as a lawyer for a nonprofit; and my father, in nuclear medicine at the University of CaliforniaSan Diegoso I didnt see them very often. Ten years later, my mom was still working full-time, but my seventy-three-year-old dad had retired and was around the house. All. Day. Long.

After my first night back home, I crawled out of bed at around 8:30 A.M . and set up my office (read: my laptop) in the living room, where my dad was watching TV, to begin writing my first column. Michael Jackson had just died, and I was working on a comic portraying Jesus overlooking the pedophile charges against Michael Jackson and letting him into Heaven anyway, because he was such a fan of the King of Pop. (My editor later pointed out that it should have been Saint Peter ushering M.J. through the gates of Heaven, but thats beside the point.) My dad had a hard time understanding that someone sitting in his pajamas and searching through Google images for silly pictures of Jesus Christ was working. So he treated me like I wasnt.

Why the fuck is Wolf Blitzer talking to me about Michael Jackson? he barked. The president is in fucking Russia trying to get those sons of bitches to stop with the nukes, and hes talking to me about Michael Jackson? Fuck you, Wolf Blitzer!

Every so often throughout the rest of the day, my dad would get fired up about something, bound into the living room from the kitchen or front yard or wherever hed been, and shout something like, Are you putting ketchup on that hamburger I made you?

Yeah, why?

Why? What the fuck do you mean, why ? Thats a gourmet hamburger. This aint some horseshit you cook. I spent time on that. Next time, I make shit for you.

It was good to be home.

For as long as Ive known him, my father has been a blunt individual. When I was little, I mostly felt terrified of him, so I couldnt appreciate that I was dealing with the least passive-aggressive human being on the planet. Now, as an adult, all day long I dealt with peoplefriends, coworkers, relativeswho never really said what they were thinking. The more time I spent with my dad in those first couple months back home, the more grateful I started to feel for the mixture of honesty and insanity that characterized his comments and personality.

One day I was on a walk with him and my dog, Angus, who was sniffing around in a bush outside a neighbors house. My dad turned to me and said, Look at the dogs asshole.

What? Why?

You can tell by the dilation of his asshole that hes going to shit soon. See. There it goes.

It was at that moment, as my dog emptied his bowels in my neighbors yard and my dad stood there proudly watching his prediction come true, that I realized how wise, even prophetic, he really is.

I took that quote and posted it as my instant messenger away status that evening. And every day after that, Id take one funny remark my dad said and use it to update my status. When one of my friends suggested I create a Twitter page to keep a record of all the crazy things that come out of his mouth, I started Shit My Dad Says. For about a week, I had only a handful of followersa couple friends who knew my dad and thought he was a character. Then one day I woke up to find that a thousand people were following me. The next day, ten thousand. Then fifty thousand. Then one hundred, two hundred, three hundred thousand, and suddenly a picture of my dads face and his quotes were popping up everywhere. Literary agents were calling, wanting to represent me; TV producers were inviting me onto their shows; and reporters were asking for interviews.

My first thought was: This is not good. The emotion that followed can only be described as sheer panic.

To illustrate how much my father hates any kind of public attention, let me share his opinion of contestants who compete on Jeopardy! My dads a well-read, educated guy, and one evening when I was watching Jeopardy! he strolled into the living room and correctly answered every question Alex Trebek posed. Dad, you should totally go on Jeopardy!, I said.

Are you fucking kidding me? Look at those people. They have no fucking respect for themselves. No dignity. Going on a reality show like that, it sickens me.

I knew I had to tell my dad that I had been posting his quotes and quips online and now had publishers and TV studios interested in adaptations of the material. But before I did, I figured Id call my oldest brother, Dan, with the hope that he would tell me I was blowing the situation out of proportion and that our dad would be fine with it.

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