My real dad that I only seen once in my life when I was 16...I went and lived with him in Cincinnati, at the time I was running away and just getting in a ton of trouble, plus my I just couldn't stay with my Mom and step dad another day. I lived with him for a month before he kicked me out in the snow, with no shoes and called the cops on me and said I had nervous problems. The real reason he kicked me out is he caught me squirting whip cream in my mouth. Ya know, turn the can upside down...and push that nozzle to the side and (cant think of sound effect) :hippy:
He was a dipshit anyway, been married 6 times and cleaned out the ladies everytime. He was a wife beater, counterfeter and has spent no less than 10 years in state prison for a variety of different charges.:thumbsup: way to go, dad...that is something to be proud of.
So, the reason I went to live with my real dad, was because my step dad, abused the fuck out of me. Physically and mentally. I hated that guy pretty much the whole time growing up. I would get whipped or punched for the stupidest shit. I couldnt open the refrigerator, turn on the tv, never cross in front of him,,had ridiculous rules at the dinner table and if you broke one, he would send you away from the table with no food. I had a lot of hungry nights...I used to have christmas's where I didnt get anything. Plus, he would work me like a frigging dog since a real young age. I had to go with him on both weekend days from the age of 7-15 yo and painting. We would get up a 4 am to start. Then even during the weekdays, everyday after school I would have to clean all of his and the crews paint brushes. Sometime like friggin 10-15 brushes...and if you have ever really cleaned paint brushes, you know it is not the easist chore and of course I still had household dutie, weeding, mowing, washing the cars, dishes...I never got an allowance.
He was also an alcoholic, so that didnt make things any better. He has stopped since then.
In total, I ran away 3 times. I stayed in a crap load of halfway houses, plantations and even juvinile detention. Probably been in over a hundred fist fights.I went through a ton of conseling...which is all shit. *punch the pillow, you'll feel better" blahhh

So, I joined the Army when I was 17, went to basic training in Fort benning, Georgia 10 days after my 17th birthday.