Father's Day is a crock
Jun. 16th, 2001 01:05 pmIt is for me anyway because my dad is a complete waste of space. The only good thing I can say about him is that he's entertaining, in the "gods, what a moron" way. Seriously, how can one person be this self-centered and dense? A whole load of dren went down Friday, but I haven't had time to post. So, here it is.
**WARNING: This is a seriously depressing, ranting, pissy, foul-mouthed entry.**
This was originally a Friends Only entry, but fuck it. I've made it public.
Last Friday, I got bit by that damn dog he brought home. Any other normal father would have said "the dog has to go" and taken the dog to the Humane Society or given it back to the original owner (too bad she doesn't want him back, heh). My dad did the first, but has been stalling on the second. Yes, I know he has to work in the city and that he wasn't home most of the week. But think about this for a second. I got bit last Friday. He was gone Monday - Wednesday. Um.. I do believe that there are four days inbetween where he could have done something. How did he spend his day Friday? Downstairs with Leo, playing online mah jong. The most fucked up thing is that the woman told him that the dog hates women and she doesn't want it back, so he knew, but didn't bother to tell anyone. And why the fuck did he bring the dog back anyway? His current solution is to just have my mom and I "stay away" from the dog.
Uh, hello. Anyone home up there? The dog is in the basement, in the hallway that leads to the garage. The garage where the cars are kept. Cars that we use to get to work. You know, if I had phasing powers a la Kitty Pryde it wouldn't be a problem. But I don't.
The dumbest argument I heard from him was that he never wanted the dog my mom bought 10 years ago. Gods, change the record. He said that he never reacted like this (telling my mom the get rid of the dog she bought) and what the fuck was my mom's problem. Gods, if only I could buy him a clue. That'd be the perfect father's day present. Minnie, the dog my mom bought, weighs all of 10 pounds. She doesn't bite, she doesn't hate males like Leo hates females, and no one in the house is afraid of her. Oh yeah, it's totally the same situation. ::rolls eyes:: He's so fucking petulant. The only reason he won't get rid of the dog is because we want him to. My mom tells him that she's just trying to protect herself and her children. My dad yells back irrationally, "Protect them from what? When have you ever protected your children?" What the fuck. As if he's ever taken his head out of his ass for two seconds to even pay attention to us.
The prick tells my brother that he's going to train the dog. Right. This from the guy that can't even do his own laundry. And if he's going to attempt to train the dog, he's not giving it away. Oh yeah, it might be interesting to note that "training" invloves yelling at the dog and poking it with a stick. Uh-huh, yeah that dog's gonna love him. I hope it bites his face off.
"Forget it, do what you want. You obviously don't care."
That was probably not the smartest thing I could've said to him, but fuck it. He doesn't care. He's seriously going to pick that damn dog over the safety of the people in the house. My dad (two hours later) bites back with "I don't care? Oh, I'll show you that I don't care." Oh, no, please. Don't pay attention to anything I say, don't leave all the housework to everyone else, don't bitch and whine 24/7, don't complain that you work so hard even though you can't keep a steady job, don't blame everyone else except yourself, DON'T do anything you haven't already been doing for the last 20 years, you fucking bastard.
Fuck.
This.
Shit.
I hope my parents get a divorce. My mom is so fucked up in the head from being married to my dad that she still wants to give him a chance. "I can't do that to him." Why the hell not? He'd do it in a heartbeat, except he knows that he wouldn't have his own personal slaves. The bastard thinks I'm talking back to him because my mother's telling us bad things about him. The truth is that I'm the one telling my mother that he's a two-faced, worthless sack of shit and that she's just now defending herself verbally because I told her to. You know how liars always think that everyone else is lying to them? Well, let's just say it didn't come as too big of a surprise when my mom told me that my dad called her two-faced.
My brother would be a lot better off too. No one needs to be told that they're worthless, fat, lazy, stupid, and other assorted things by their own parent. It's one thing when I say it 'cause I'm the annoying older sister, but when your father says it, that's a totally different thing.
I'm sick of all his complaining about how my brother and I aren't obedient, how we're not good enough. We'll never be good enough. Fuck you. I don't drink, I don't do drugs, I don't steal, I haven't killed anyone or shot up a school. I'm not failing college, in fact I'm on the Dean's List. With my loans and scholarships, college is costing less than high school. I have a steady job at school working for ACS. Hell, the fact that I even have a job at school and a social life and descent grades at the same time should deserve some kind of pat on the back. But, no. What do I get from him? A big, fat zilch. Just more yelling about how I need to do something with my summer and my life. Listen, just because you haven't accomplished anything, can't hold a steady job, and everyone in your own family hates you because you're a cheap, self-centered bastard doesn't mean that's going to happen to me. I guarantee you, it won't. One of my most redeeming qualities has got to be the fact that half of my friends aren't ex-cons or alcoholics. Glad that wasn't an inherited trait.
I probably have no right to be complaining about this because I'm sure that there are kids who are in way more abusive situations than me. I know that I'm probably considered priviledged, middle class family and all, but I just needed a big long rant about how my life is shit when my father is around. I think everyone has had enough of placating him like he's some kind of king.
I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm looking for a cheap hitman.
Thanks to Sez for general humor and the link to the Ben on Kilborn interview. I needed the diversion.
Everything you say to me
takes me one step closer to the edge
and I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
'cause one step closer to the edge
and I'm about to break
-- Linkin Park, "One Step Closer"
For all the things you said I'd never do
For all the thing you said that were untrue
For all the times you made me feel alone
Said I'd never make it on my own.
...
For all the times you said "I got your back"
For all the times you stabbed me there
For all the times you tried to hurt my pride
For all the pain I held down deep inside
...
You gotta pay for the things you put me through.
-- Kina, "Girl For the Gutter"
Shove it
-- Deftones, "My Own Summer"
You don't know me or my situation
My heart or what things I got, no indeed
So what you see ain't so predictable
I show you what I want you to see
-- Kina, "U Don't Know"
**WARNING: This is a seriously depressing, ranting, pissy, foul-mouthed entry.**
This was originally a Friends Only entry, but fuck it. I've made it public.
Last Friday, I got bit by that damn dog he brought home. Any other normal father would have said "the dog has to go" and taken the dog to the Humane Society or given it back to the original owner (too bad she doesn't want him back, heh). My dad did the first, but has been stalling on the second. Yes, I know he has to work in the city and that he wasn't home most of the week. But think about this for a second. I got bit last Friday. He was gone Monday - Wednesday. Um.. I do believe that there are four days inbetween where he could have done something. How did he spend his day Friday? Downstairs with Leo, playing online mah jong. The most fucked up thing is that the woman told him that the dog hates women and she doesn't want it back, so he knew, but didn't bother to tell anyone. And why the fuck did he bring the dog back anyway? His current solution is to just have my mom and I "stay away" from the dog.
Uh, hello. Anyone home up there? The dog is in the basement, in the hallway that leads to the garage. The garage where the cars are kept. Cars that we use to get to work. You know, if I had phasing powers a la Kitty Pryde it wouldn't be a problem. But I don't.
The dumbest argument I heard from him was that he never wanted the dog my mom bought 10 years ago. Gods, change the record. He said that he never reacted like this (telling my mom the get rid of the dog she bought) and what the fuck was my mom's problem. Gods, if only I could buy him a clue. That'd be the perfect father's day present. Minnie, the dog my mom bought, weighs all of 10 pounds. She doesn't bite, she doesn't hate males like Leo hates females, and no one in the house is afraid of her. Oh yeah, it's totally the same situation. ::rolls eyes:: He's so fucking petulant. The only reason he won't get rid of the dog is because we want him to. My mom tells him that she's just trying to protect herself and her children. My dad yells back irrationally, "Protect them from what? When have you ever protected your children?" What the fuck. As if he's ever taken his head out of his ass for two seconds to even pay attention to us.
The prick tells my brother that he's going to train the dog. Right. This from the guy that can't even do his own laundry. And if he's going to attempt to train the dog, he's not giving it away. Oh yeah, it might be interesting to note that "training" invloves yelling at the dog and poking it with a stick. Uh-huh, yeah that dog's gonna love him. I hope it bites his face off.
"Forget it, do what you want. You obviously don't care."
That was probably not the smartest thing I could've said to him, but fuck it. He doesn't care. He's seriously going to pick that damn dog over the safety of the people in the house. My dad (two hours later) bites back with "I don't care? Oh, I'll show you that I don't care." Oh, no, please. Don't pay attention to anything I say, don't leave all the housework to everyone else, don't bitch and whine 24/7, don't complain that you work so hard even though you can't keep a steady job, don't blame everyone else except yourself, DON'T do anything you haven't already been doing for the last 20 years, you fucking bastard.
Fuck.
This.
Shit.
I hope my parents get a divorce. My mom is so fucked up in the head from being married to my dad that she still wants to give him a chance. "I can't do that to him." Why the hell not? He'd do it in a heartbeat, except he knows that he wouldn't have his own personal slaves. The bastard thinks I'm talking back to him because my mother's telling us bad things about him. The truth is that I'm the one telling my mother that he's a two-faced, worthless sack of shit and that she's just now defending herself verbally because I told her to. You know how liars always think that everyone else is lying to them? Well, let's just say it didn't come as too big of a surprise when my mom told me that my dad called her two-faced.
My brother would be a lot better off too. No one needs to be told that they're worthless, fat, lazy, stupid, and other assorted things by their own parent. It's one thing when I say it 'cause I'm the annoying older sister, but when your father says it, that's a totally different thing.
I'm sick of all his complaining about how my brother and I aren't obedient, how we're not good enough. We'll never be good enough. Fuck you. I don't drink, I don't do drugs, I don't steal, I haven't killed anyone or shot up a school. I'm not failing college, in fact I'm on the Dean's List. With my loans and scholarships, college is costing less than high school. I have a steady job at school working for ACS. Hell, the fact that I even have a job at school and a social life and descent grades at the same time should deserve some kind of pat on the back. But, no. What do I get from him? A big, fat zilch. Just more yelling about how I need to do something with my summer and my life. Listen, just because you haven't accomplished anything, can't hold a steady job, and everyone in your own family hates you because you're a cheap, self-centered bastard doesn't mean that's going to happen to me. I guarantee you, it won't. One of my most redeeming qualities has got to be the fact that half of my friends aren't ex-cons or alcoholics. Glad that wasn't an inherited trait.
I probably have no right to be complaining about this because I'm sure that there are kids who are in way more abusive situations than me. I know that I'm probably considered priviledged, middle class family and all, but I just needed a big long rant about how my life is shit when my father is around. I think everyone has had enough of placating him like he's some kind of king.
I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm looking for a cheap hitman.
Thanks to Sez for general humor and the link to the Ben on Kilborn interview. I needed the diversion.
Everything you say to me
takes me one step closer to the edge
and I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
'cause one step closer to the edge
and I'm about to break
-- Linkin Park, "One Step Closer"
For all the things you said I'd never do
For all the thing you said that were untrue
For all the times you made me feel alone
Said I'd never make it on my own.
...
For all the times you said "I got your back"
For all the times you stabbed me there
For all the times you tried to hurt my pride
For all the pain I held down deep inside
...
You gotta pay for the things you put me through.
-- Kina, "Girl For the Gutter"
Shove it
-- Deftones, "My Own Summer"
You don't know me or my situation
My heart or what things I got, no indeed
So what you see ain't so predictable
I show you what I want you to see
-- Kina, "U Don't Know"
Hitman for hire!
Date: 2001-06-17 01:24 am (UTC)Hey, I'll smack him around a bit first for ya! How's that sound, hmmm? ;)
Just let me get rid of this pesky gun law and I'll be right over! Aw frell that. How's about I get myself a few shotguns and make it look like he did it himself (not that the shotgun wouldn't get rid of all the evidence anyway...)
How do you think your dad would look like without a head? There, now picture that and take a breath. Okay, good. Breathe in, breathe out... picture, picture, picture. If you wish hard enough it'll come true.
For the record- I'm on your side!
Re: Hitman for hire!
Date: 2001-06-17 09:22 am (UTC)Okay, I'm breathing. ::takes a deep breath:: Breathing is good. My dad without a head would be better, but hey, one step at a time.
Thanks, Tellie :)