WADDUP NEPHEW
HOW AUTHORITATIVE IS THIS?
Bet you had to answer that question. Of course you did. Because without wimpy-ol'-fence-sittin'-on-ass serifs, I am an authority. Helvetica, fella. Same font as the NYC Subway.
All you baby/toddler lil shrimps aughts ta know right now that the toughest, roughest kid of your generation lives where Bill Murray should be and weighs like 8 pounds or something. He's my nephew, and if you F with him, you F with me. Got it?
So Lil G (I'm talking to you, I know it'll be a while till you grasp the English language, BTW it sucks and is for old people), welcome to the family. We aren't your traditional blue collar Americana family you probably thought you were stuck with while in utero. No. We're a crime family. La familia. Copa nostra. But don't let me hear you saying that. You'll soon learn how I feel about Italians. They make great food, but lousy pets (if you catch my drift).
You better know that I'm gonna live vicariously through your shrimpself. Every Park and Rec basketball game you play in, I'm gonna be choking some other kids dad over what I claim was a lousy jump ball. Every time you get less than a B+ on a school assignment, I'll be accusing your teacher of racism. Every time some little girl at school crushes on you, I'm gonna tell her you have HIV because you are too young to be thinking about girls. You need to think about school and basketball. About racists and punk-MFing dads that need some MFing glasses.
I haven't seen even a picture of your formerly-fetal-face yet, but I'm sure its kinda reddish and mashed up. Even in a crowd of a million bebes I can recognize you. I'm your uncle. We got more Bonds than Barry. You are a Barry. Picking you out is like a penguin being all like, "See that little brown lump? That's my bebe. Know how I know? You don't? Fella, I'm a penguin. Eating fish and knowing who's my bebe is all I ever do."
Here's a time line of how I see things going.
Age 0-1: I'll probably see you like once and you won't ever remember it but I'll be talking about it until you are 35.
Age 1-3: I'll get in trouble multiple times for trying to trade you cigarettes for Duplos.
Age 3-5: We teach you how to shoot. Um... shooting free-throws. You'll suck at them until you are around 8 or 10 or something.
Age 6-8: There will be a terrorist attack and it will be hard to get to Milwaukee since terrorists don't like beer and they'll shut down everything in the general vicinity.
Age 9-12: Punching other kids' dads' faces at your sports games.
Age 12-15: Don't tell your dad about the cigarette selling ring we have going on at your middle school.
Age 16-18: Always wear protection, even if she's pretty.
Age 18+: You are on your own; don't call asking me for money.
Remember: don't like stupid toys like Crazy Bones, Pokemon cards, POGs, etc. They suck and always will suck. And video games suck too. They're for career virgins. Play sports, but not wimpy sports unless there are really hot girls on the team (i.e. tennis, volleyball, XC). You won't regret being awesome at sports and you'll be better at beating people up and running from Milwaukee's Finest.
Your loving uncle,
Jesus Pescado
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