August 17th, 2007

sinfest: god puppets

There might be a few people fifty miles away who didn't hear him.

So Dad quit his job today. From the way he's been yelling nearly constantly for the past (checks clock) five hours and expecting someone to actually listen to all that yelling, which is difficult to do after listening for two minutes and realizing he's really just repeating himself, you'd think there were a second person involved. Oh, I hear laughter now. That's a relief.

He could use a journal, so he could emo with the emoest of the emos. I seriously considered suggesting this to him, but then I remembered that he's not exactly the type to write away his anger. As you probably figured out, he'd rather yell at the nearest available target. Who cares if they're going to listen or not?

And there's the griping/yelling again. The funniest part of all this? During one of his yelling bouts during dinner, he said "son of a bitch". Nothing unusual, as I've heard that come out of his mouth many, many times before. Then he turned to me and said, "Pardon my French."

I nearly laughed at this. Maybe it was because he was apologizing for supposedly corrupting me, and if he was, ohhhh, that happened a long time ago. Or maybe it was because I was already so corrupted that, to be honest, nothing my family did could corrupt me anymore. To be honest, they'd probably want to de-corrupt me. I'm pretty sure Grandmother would, anyway; she still talks to me about what's going on at the church as if I just 'missed' a Sunday, even though I haven't gone to church in about two years.

Instead I told Dad, "You do realize I've heard much stronger, right? I do watch movies, you know."

But he already has something else lined up, something he hopes will turn out much better.
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