Chapter Three
For having such an acute and accurate way of seeing so many things so damn clearly, it could equally be said that Peter Durant suffered terribly from the lack of a proper, social filter while sharing.
When it came to sharing, Peter was like a kid with no arms and a big bowl of Skittles; he was more than willing to share, but hardly capable of doing so without making a mess.
What he lacked was a most necessary trait if one is to get along with others, for without such a trait; one’s only hope for success in life is to work nights as a standup comic or to be hired on as a film critic.
However, Peter didn’t lack this critical trait because he was born without one. Peter’s filter was, in fact, circumcised by his parents when he was just a young boy.
What happened to Peter was that he was raised by two raging alcoholics, and having been raised in a household in which his overtly inebriated guardians spoke their minds openly, without hesitation and without restraint, he developed similar characteristics to those of a tipsy fucktard.
Furthermore, his particular rancor was overstimulated by their constant need to argue.
So, it wasn’t his fault that he turned out to be an asshole.
However, at his age, it was about time he’d taken responsibility for his words and actions, and visits from the three ghosts of Christmas and all the many travelers from times yet to come notwithstanding; he would soon be receiving his comeuppance, as karma would have it, for he was far from gentle and kind in all of his ways.