From the Diary of Jake Deegan

Jake Deegan's Super-Secret Diary

Don't read this unless I'm dead. That means you, Parental Units. You too, Sis.

Actually, even if I am dead, get one of my friends to read it first and rip out all the embarrassing stuff. That is, if I live long enough to DO any embarrassing stuff before I die... Or, y'know, have friends.

Fuckin' Dad.

Okay, so the first thing you have to understand about my dad is that he hates "downsizing." Seriously, he'd do anything to avoid looking or feeling poor... And as a result of that attitude, now we actually ARE kinda poor. His office supply company had a bad year, his Christmas bonus dried up, and now we can't afford the mortgage on this ridiculous house. So that means we should buy a smaller house, yeah?

No, says Dad, it obviously means we should move out of the city we love and into... Well, nowhere special, I guess. He's basically just looking for a small pond to be a big fish in. I made the mistake of pointing out the obvious (that his plan is bullshit), so now I'm not even part of the conversation. I've heard him talking with Mom about it, and all the places they're considering fucking SUCK. Redneck county, redneck county, Alaska, redneck county... Sure, yeah, these are great places for a white-collar black family to live. Anything for a McMansion, apparently.

The one that doesn't sound so bad is Madrepoot, Florida. It's a town just outside Orlando, so at least it's got SOME big-city vibes. Florida gets a bad rap, but I hear it's not so bad. Lots of hot girls from every race and culture, amirite? I'll be old enough to use girls soon, so yeah, that shit matters.

I can't find a ton of info about Madrepoot specifically, though. Only that property values are falling fast, even while rent in the rest of Orlando is getting crazy high. They're even giving handouts to working families who want to move there. Apparently nobody's coming to Madreput because it's got some kinda weird zoning rules? Not sure why that would matter so much, but whatever... It's my only chance to live near civilization, so I hope it wins out.

Okay, so, here we go:

First of all, we're moving to Madreput. Second of all, it's supposed to be spelled like that, not "Madrepoot." That's why I wasn't finding any good articles, and now I am. REALLY good articles, actually, with even better pictures. Fuck, even the Wikipedia page is like an issue of WIFE or Paragon Magazine or whatever. It's a free use paradise. Way better rules than the rest of the country... Like way, way better... For me, anyway.

Sons are in charge there.

I'm gonna repeat that: sons are in charge. Dad's forcing us to move to a place where he won't have any power at all, and he DOESN'T KNOW. I guess he saw the place on a "lowest cost per square foot of tacky mansion" spreadsheet, and didn't even bother Googling it before booking a flight.

Speaking of flights, we make the move next week. As in, April 16th. As in, my actual fucking birthday. Before I was pissed off at dad for wanting me to spend it moving boxes and sitting on a plane, but not anymore. By the time we land in Madreput, I'll be juuust old enough for free use there.

Oh God, I hope he doesn't find out. If one of his friends says something, or Mom suddenly learns how to use the internet... This is gonna be a long week.

Remember how I said it was gonna be a long week? Yeah, it is, but not for the reason I thought. Dad hasn't figured out the whole "Oedipal Zone" thing yet (that's what Madreput is, apparently), and it doesn't look like he will.

But Mom... Ugh. I didn't even think of her as attractive before, but now that I'm a few days away from practically OWNING her... God, DAT ASS.

I saw her lying by the pool this afternoon (the same pool that Dad's so mad about losing, even though he never swims). I stared for a while, then ran inside to write this... And jack off, obvs. I came so hard and so fast that I almost missed the toilet. Hard not to, when you're picturing yourself mounting that big, fat booty, then busting a nut all over it... Shit. Goddammit.

Just another 72 hours, then I get to fuck her brains out. As many times as I want.

Every. Single. Day.

P.S. I just realized that I'm fantasy-cucking my own father in the notebook he gave me for my birthday last year (leftover office supplies? Sick present, Dad). Don't know if that makes me feel better or worse about what comes next.