Bradford considered most women he came across to be insane.  He joked about “crazy bitches,” saying the religious ones were the worst.  They reminded him of his mom and his fat sister.  He hated them equally.  Both had left Bradford and his father and moved off to Kentucky.  Bradford hated going to visit them, because all they ever did was rant about how they hated men, and how Bradford didn’t love Jesus.   They figured he hated Jesus because he was like his father, and because he was like his father that’s why he hated Jesus.

Bradford told me once that he thinks in some ways he became his father because everyone was always saying he was already half way there.  His response to his mom and sister when they called him out about his lack of love for Jesus was always, “My head hurts.  My feet stink.  And no, I don’t love Jesus!”  He’d read the quote at a gas station on his way to visit them in Kentucky.  The saying was branded onto some fake wooden plaque, with a drunk scowling at the words beneath his feet.  Bradford still regretted not buying the wall hanging for himself, because he’d never seen anything as funny since.

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