Fuck you, i hope you meet a girl, fall in love, start a family, and then when you feel like you’re on the top of the world with a beautiful wife of 12 years and two stellar athletes as children, she fucking kills herself leaving you with an unfillable void. And each time you look at your children you’re reminded of her. With the smell of whiskey on your breath you yell “IT’S YOUR FAULT” and beat the fuck out of them repeatedly until they get kicked off the team and start smoking crack, then you catch them doing it one day and ask them for some, they say “sure dad” which leads you to selling all your possessions to support you and your kid’s crack addiction. now you and your kids are homeless, running out of crack. one day your kids fight over who’s gonna get the last hit and little johnny cuts little brayden with a sharp piece of sheet rock, slicing his neck open, and leaving him bleeding out on the street in your arms, with no crack left. Only to then hear a female say “what the fuck?” and it sounds just like your dead wife and in that brief moment you brush it off as a hallucination from lack of crack and watching your son bleed out on the street, but in reality it is intact your wife that you thought killed herself but she tells you that her phone died when she went to her friends house for a couple days and when she came back the house was sold and you were gone.