Excerpts from Barry's journal:

    August 18th, 2003
    "How can something you're so excited about be so fucking small? I mean, Jesus, I don't feel a fucking thing. It's like I'm being molested by a beached dolphin with a thimble attached to it." Shelia said. I did not, nor do I now, know how to respond to this.

    March 23rd, 2004  
    I haven't written in a while, Diary, and for that I apologize. But something today my father said really needed to be written down I think. He said, "I tell you what, Son. That mom of yours is an evil, heartless cunt. But I'll be God-damned if she can't suck a dick like there's no tomorrow. She's even better than that Shelia girl you used to know, not to even mention your Grandmother." Sometimes I wish Dad had more guy friends.

    May 5th, 2004
    Today I asked Grandma why she hasn't made her famous blueberry buckle since Granddaddy died. I mean it's been almost five years and I could understand it if he liked it a lot, but I don't recall him ever eating it (Not once!). Then she told me it wasn't because she was trying to honor him or anything. It's because she can't. Apparently the secret ingredient was Granddaddy's semen. I don't think I can ever eat blueberries again.

    November 22nd, 2004    I don't think I like my family too much. Especially my Dad. I've been seeing this really nice girl named Naomi that I met in the drug recovery program I've been attending. She's smart, very pretty, funny, and a recovering cocaine addict. Anyways, Mom wanted me to invite her over for Thanksgiving dinner with the family so they could get to know her more. Everything was fine except Naomi started acting very weird, which at first I thought was just her being nervous but it turned out that Dad was putting cocaine in her glass of wine. He had apparently been doing this all night, because by the end of it he was telling her she could only have another glass of wine if she went upstairs with him and "earned it." That was four days ago and I still haven't seen her, not even at Drug Recovery meetings. I hate my Dad sometimes.

My Favorite Drawing of My Dad: