I grew up the son of dual alcoholic parents that divorced when I was 14 years old.
I lived with my dad and my 3 other brothers and watched him die of lung cancer and alcoholism.
I lived in shame as the electricity was turned off, food in the refrigerator rotted and gave birth to big fat maggots, and the phone ringing off the hook from bill collectors.
I remember my dad's boss asking me for his keys to the business, because he didn't have the balls to confront him personally.
My brothers moved in with me because I was all they had.
I learned personal responsibility the hard way.
Those life experiences taught me a tough as nails work ethic.
My life sinks or swims based on my job performance every single day.
Not much sympathy here for those that cry for handouts and leech off of society due to bad life choices...
