The cold, bitter air was nothing unusual, but it was bothersome. Sure, when you live long enough, you sorta get used to that kind of thing, but you never really do. It's always just a little too cold for comfort, no matter the attire. Even the natives complain, and they live here.

Warmth, however, is quite relative in the land of the free. Now I mean no disrespect to the natives or their citizens or anything like that, but, well, it just doesn't get cold like this where I'm from. Sure, we may see snow every once in a blue moon, but never, never like this. And thank the lord for that, for I don't know if my petite childish body could ever handle that, especially as a child.

The fun is dull and the games are tiresome. This is business, not pleasure. Not to say that I haven't had my fair share of pleasures, if you know what I mean, but this trip isn't about that. It's about education. Entrepreneurial endeavors. Growing as a human. And all that fancy stuff.

The truth is, I'm bored. Sure, living right on the beach is nice. And sure, being married to your high school sweetheart is a real dream come true. And yes, of course I adore my two boys and three girls and my wife and all that. I'm not a cheating man, of course. I love my wife. It's just. Well. Well. I'm bored, damn't.

I'm tired of the same arguments and the same conversations and the monotonous habits and yes, even the borderline irksome sex. I'm tired of it. All of it! I want something out of this life! I'm tired of being bogged down by monotony. I don't want that anymore! It's not who I am!

I'm supposed to be a movie star. I'm supposed to be an Oscar winning director. I'm supposed to win awards and go to fancy ceremonies and make millions. I'm supposed to do a lot of things. But, you see, I had to go and meet her.

Don't get me wrong, I know it's not her fault. I know I could've followed my dreams and all that shit. It's just. It's just. Well, if it wasn't for her, things would've been a whole lot easier.

I wouldn't have to worry about settling down. I wouldn't have to worry about finding a "real" job. I wouldn't have to worry about supporting five kids and a wife. I wouldn't have to worry about flirting or texting or any of that shit. I could just be me. For once in my life. But that's not the case.

Instead, I'm stuck with five kids, a wife I envy, and a job I loathe. I live in a country without any rights and little say. All taxation, no representation. I can't go anywhere without a passport. My only form of transportation is a boat. A fucking boat! And for fucks sake, if I have to hear one more goddamn bird chirping it's tiny little squeaked, I'm going to chop someone's fucking head right off!

I needed this. I had to do this. I still need this. I deserve this. This is my time. This is my destiny. Ain't no one ever going to tell me I'm something I'm not. I don't care if my wife hates me or my kids loathe me or any shit like that. I'm happy, damn't. And doesn't that matter? Doesn't anyone care about my happiness?

It sure as hell doesn't seem like it.

That's another thing. Where the fuck does my family get the right to criticize me? Me? I don't see my toddler getting off his lazy ass to get a job! Just sitting on his fat caboose waiting for who knows what sucking on that goddamn thumb! I swear, if I see him put his thumb in his mouth one more time, I'm gonna cut it right off! Right off!

And Jack! Why Jack! He's my oldest boy, the eldest sibling. He's supposed to be smarter than that. He's supposed to make his parents proud! But no! What does he do? He decides its his duty to get drunk, at the ripe old age of seventeen no less, and crash our brand new boat! Our fucking boat! For six fucking years I saved up for that thing! And what does he do? He fucking crashes it! Crashes it! The only goddamn thing I've ever gotten in this godforsaken world. That fucking son of a bitch.

And then there's the twins! God, how I abhor those little fucking whores. Fifteen years old, and they've already slept with half the country! Fuck, I have friends who've slept with them! Friends! But of course, you can't prosecute a thing like that in a country like ours, that's more of a personal issue. And, of course, it's not the men's fault the girls' seduced them! How could it be? Who could resist their goddamn bodies? For fucks sake!

And then there's Sophie. How I despise Sophie. Eight years old and a soul as evil as hell itself. A real demon child if you ask me! A little fucking brat! A know nothing no good snot nosed monster this side of fucking paradise. That little bitch! She can die in hell for all I care! Whining and yelling about how she doesn't have this new toy and that new pair of shoes and how the whole fucking world is gonna come to an end if she doesn't get exactly what she wants right this very second! That little fucking bastard.

And then there's Julie. Oh how I envy Julie.

A mother of five without a care in the world. A job she adores, a husband to fuck, and all the time a woman could ever ask for. A house right on the beach, men to ogle, women to pity, and a whole fucking world to adore and be adored. She is the epitome of belligerence.

And believe me! I would know! I've had to live with that goddamn thing for the last twenty years! And do I get any thanks for my effort? No! Not one goddamn Thank You! Not even a smile or nod or anything! Is that really too much to ask for? A simple nod?

And then there's the issue of my job. My fucking conformist corporation. The fucking epitome of hyperboles! The very reason for hell. Goddamn purgatory with no resurrection. Fucking hell! Fucking hell! Have you ever tried to work in one of thousands of cubicles amongst millions of employees in a goddamn fluorescent scathed hell hole? And don't even get me started on that fucking bastard of a boss! I wouldn't even shit on something so shitty! Fuck, those goddamn birds wouldn't even shit on something so shitty.

And now this! Now fucking this! A fucking snow blizzard in Texas! Fucking Texas! I did not travel thousands of miles for a fucking snow blizzard in goddamn Texas! If I wanted a snow blizzard, I'd go to fucking Vermont! Vermont! Fucking Vermont! Not fucking Texas! Anywhere but fucking Texas!

And here's another thing! Where the fuck do you Texans get that goddamn awful accent? No one in Mexico speaks like that! No one in Arizona or New Mexico or any other goddamn state blurts that godforsaken accent! So where the fuck do you get the courage to start your own fucking language in the middle of a goddamn country!

And don't even get me started on cessation! If you wanna leave the fucking country, leave the fucking country! See if anyone cares! Literally no one likes you! You provide nothing to America! Nothing! Ooh, you have oil? So does every other fucking state, including the Dakotas! The fucking Dakotas!

So no, I don't give a shit about your fucking barbecues and Cowboys and racist oxymorons and your idiotic belief that Christianity should rule the world. And no, I don't give a fuck about a president I can't vote for and a congress that can't do a damn thing! I don't care about your fucking politics and I sure as hell don't care about a goddamn figure head!

So yes, Cheryl, I'm sure I wanna fuck you in the back of a dimly lit alley in the middle of a goddamn blizzard. Because, for once in my fucking life, I'm taking control of my fucking situation, and doing whatever the fuck I want!