My dad is a bigger asshole.
He's trying to make some stupid CD slide show of pictures for his "friends," who are really just the male family members of my mother's friends, since he just goes with flow when it comes to that sort of thing. Anyway, he's yelling at his computer because it keeps putting the pictures in the order of their filenames, rather than the order he has in his head, as if imagining it will accomplish it. Then a picture of me on the treadmill comes up. It's under fluorescent light and with flash so it's hardly flattering. What the fuck does that have to do with his "Florida Vacation 2004?" When I object, he starts up with "YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS!" "You have the right to remain silent, hahaha!"
So I storm out and go upstairs and count my money. I have to get out of here.
So I storm out and go upstairs and count my money. I have to get out of here.