If I see even a smidgen of John hate on my dash — I won’t hesitate on hitting the unfollow button. I won’t fucking tolerate any John hate.
John was not a bad father.
John was not abusive.
John made mistakes and he did what he could to raise the boys right — even if that meant that he needed help from Bobby.
You want to hate on John? Then don’t talk to me. It’s my firm belief that John had a hard time after Mary died, but he did not abuse his boys, in any way shape or form.
— “Just you try it.”
”I’ll bite you before you can even move.”
— “My favorite is Peach Cobbler with French Vanilla ice cream.”
”Just… for future reference.”
— “Why… Why would children under three be choking on my hazardly large parts?”
— “Oh, but now, everyone knows that I’m your little bitch.”
— “Where the fuck is my coffee?”
“Why are you waking me up without coffee?”
— “Finally, somebody who appreciates me.”
— “Hey, my impulse control is superb.”
”Because right now, I’ve got the impulse to punch you. But I’m controlling it.”
— “Charming, Missouri.”
Fine then, consider this an invitation that if I gotta go the rest of my life like this - then you should get my initials on you.
Charm? You don’t have any charm. You have pheromones.
Oh yeah, thank you so-oo much.
Yeah, that’s not happening.
I have charm and pheromones. All you have are hormones.
Oh, it’s happening, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
I don’t need you
or your knot. I’ll start taking suppressants. See how you like it when I start sleeping in another bed, too.
I have manners, good looks and hormones.
Well then —
”I’m meaner than I look.”