My dad could easily fit in this picture circa 1982.
Your dad traveled the world before you did and there’s a jar of Egyptian sand in your house to prove it. He was an ambassador of badassery who traveled the world and left a wake trail of debauchery behind him. He didn’t know the local languages, but the local ladies never seemed to mind. He spoke in a tongue of pulse racing, butterfly giving, universal seduction. It was a mix of cross cultural body sign language and snake charming. It can’t be taught and you sure as hell didn’t inherit it.
So hipsters, next time you’re planning a self entitle summer abroad on dad’s dime and claiming that it’s necessary for your liberal arts major, remember this…
The foreign girl in the bar that you’re attempting to seduce with a toddlers comprehension of the local language is probably your long lost sister from dad’s party past.Big thanks to HurryKid for the photo.
