February 27th, 2004

ffxii - basch - rockstar


God, my Dad is such a fucking bastard sometimes. I mention, just mention, that I'm going to see The Passion with Meghan tomorrow and that we need to pick her up from work, and he fucking freaks about the weather. He starts swearing and shit, just like the fucking Nickelback concert, and throws the hissy fit from hell. Like fuck, you'll drive out in this weather for your fucking booze. If you even try to leave the house tomorrow, I'll throw a fucking hissy fit on *you*, since you fucking threw one on me.

And then I go to close the blinds to listen to music to cool off. It's just my thing - however illogical. Just like my dad has his booze, his fucking mickey of whiskey a fucking night so he gets so fucking smashed he can't fucking stand straight. And then he bitches at me for it, he wants to look out into his little country kingdom. So I retort that if the weather is as bad as he says it is, then no one will be out in the yard for him to fucking see anyway, and he freaks out on me. Take your own goddamn logic, you fucking drunken hypocrite from fucking hell.

I swear, once you go to bed I'm pouring your whiskey down the drain so you'll have none tomorrow, and when you go out for more, I won't let you because you won't let me leave the damn house and we'll suffer together and when you bitch about the money down the drain I'll tell you your life is fucking going down the drain and maybe you should rethink some shit.

Edit: Now he apologizes, as always. Blah. :(
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