The true secret history of Father’s Day. An exposé by Cedric Bigglestone.

Cedric Bigglestone almost made the mistake of thanking his father for being a father because that would have been stupid. Read on to see how he blows up the myth of a day you thought was a good thing. (It isn’t.)
 
 
 
PART ONE: I’m just like you. Stupid and ignorant.
Just like you, I spent most of my life celebrating whatever holiday I was told to. Christmas? Here’s some gifts for everyone. Halloween? I’m hiding in your basement. Boo! You don’t know who I am? Call the fucking cops. They’re on their way? Fuck. I need to get out of here. 
 
This year, I fell for all the crap again. Valentine’s Day. Here’s a box of chocolate I found over there. Father’s Day. Wait a second… Why am I celebrating Father’s Day? (That’s what I asked myself).
 
Every year, billions of people say, “Hey, thanks, Dad! Thanks for shooting your sperm into mom?” Is that what we thank them for? It had to be more. And I needed to find out.
 
 
PART TWO: I do research.
Most people start research by going to the library or at least searching the internet. I’ve found those methods are flawed, because you end up with information that someone else came up with first. I choose, instead, to look inside my own mind because I feel the truth is in there somewhere… If I can just find it…
 
Four days into my research, my brain is going crazy. I am finding out things I never thought possible. I tighten the clamps on my nipples and take extra doses of mescaline so I can work all day and night. 
 
The only problem is that I am not learning anything about Father’s Day. So far, I’ve met Napoleon, answered all his riddles, and received some medals from him. I also finished a mythic quest to free my balls from my tight underwear and now I don’t need to wear pants or anything because I’m shielded by an invisibility spell. That’s all great stuff. But what about my original mission?
 
PART THREE: I give up. But wait…
I finally decide to stop my research and get some sleep. I wake up a day later and I’m thirsty as shit. I think about getting a glass of water, but then I think it would be so much better if I had a Slurpy or Big Gulp or whatever. So I leave my apartment and look for a convenience store. Then it hits me. I just figured out why Father’s Day exists.
 
PART FOUR: The secret history.
Father’s Day was originally founded by Abernathy Fondlesdolls, a British nobleman and scientist who attempted to impregnate toys with his seamen. After failing three or four hundred times, he sat alone in his castle and looked at all the broken teddy bears and hobby horses he had abused. That’s when he decided he would start Father’s Day—so he could act like everything he did was totally normal. And to this day, if you celebrate it, you are saying it’s cool to fuck teddy bears. 
 
CONCLUSION.
If you celebrate Father’s Day, you’re basically a pervert.  That’s on you.
 
 
Cedric Bigglestone is a self-taught journalist who exposes things through exposés. Contact him at cedric@intergalacticbiz.com.