Movies & Fathers who MUST DIE!!!!!
I have abtained "Sin City". Not much to it really. The only thing special about it is a Behind the Scenes Featurette that isn't even all that great. I really would've loved some Directors' Commentary (given that their were 3 directors working on the movie). Frank Miller could've talked about when he made the comic, how he thought up the characters, and so on. Shit I would like to know!!!
I would really like to get my hands on the movie Mastermind with Patrick Stewart. Look it up and rent it if you haven't seen it, it's a damn good movie.
Now on the living situation.... I'm going NUTS!!! Living with my dad is like living with your own personal Dictator!!! You must shower WITH BLEACH!!!! or I wouldn't allow you to leave the house! Did he forget I'M TWENTY NOW!!!!! I'm not fucking 7!!!! And BLEACH? What the fuck is that? "You picked up some sort of bachteria and only bleach can destroy it!" BULLSHIT YOU OCD FUCKER!!!!! The only thing I'd moarn in my father's death, is that he wouldn't be giving me anymore money. Also, dad "supposedly" hates smoking yet every woman he's ever been with is/was a smoker. He believes I quit (if he knew I didn't, he'd probably throw me out) so I have to hide smoking. One of my good excuses is that I'm using my cell phone (since it doesn't work inside the house, TRUTH!), another is that I let the cat outside and making sure he doesn't run off.
Oh and the Best for last on the DAD SUCKS ASS rant. Friday, he kicks me! I still have the bruise that's about 4 inches in diameter! And that JUST the big one. Some of you might know of my migraines. Different side-effects for certain ones. 1.) limbs go numb such as: Hands, lips, tongue, foot. 2.) Extreme pain behind the eyes making it unbarable to open them. On Friday, 3.) Loss of mental capasity such as: limited vocabulary, memory loss, extreme confussion. Anyway, I took some asprin and went to bed before it got any worse (it's the only cure I got unless someone gives me strong painkillers). I wake up to my dad knocking at the door. I'm disoriented, hell I barely make it to the door and remember how to turn the knob. He's leaving for the weekend and (from what I remember) wanted me to give him my cell number. I couldn't remember. Dad thought I just didn't want to give it to him, even as I started crying out of frustration. I crumble to the ground behind my door... and he pushes it wide open, I'm sprawled out on the floor CRYING!!! Then he kicks me in the shin, HARD (remember what I said about the bruise?)!
I'm laying on the floor, helpless as a 3 year old, covering my head with my arms just incase dad's not done kicking, and my knee are curled up to my chest. Dad picks up my cell phone and messes with it and puts it back, saying nothing. I stay like that for half-hour. Then I bring myself to close the door, lock it, and crawl into bed, sobbing for a bit before going back to sleep.
I wake up again some time later to another knocking. I petrified at first, still not over my spell, but it's Shelley, my dad's girlfriend. I open the door slowly, my hands ready to slam and lock the door, I look and she's there alone. I tell her what happened and she said in a serious voice (not something you hear often for her) that she'll talk to him about it.
I wake to another knocking, soft, but it's my dad. By this time, I'm almost back to normal so I'm not as freaked. NOW he apologizes.
Show of hands..... Should my dad rot in hell for all eternity!?!?!?!?!?
I would really like to get my hands on the movie Mastermind with Patrick Stewart. Look it up and rent it if you haven't seen it, it's a damn good movie.
Now on the living situation.... I'm going NUTS!!! Living with my dad is like living with your own personal Dictator!!! You must shower WITH BLEACH!!!! or I wouldn't allow you to leave the house! Did he forget I'M TWENTY NOW!!!!! I'm not fucking 7!!!! And BLEACH? What the fuck is that? "You picked up some sort of bachteria and only bleach can destroy it!" BULLSHIT YOU OCD FUCKER!!!!! The only thing I'd moarn in my father's death, is that he wouldn't be giving me anymore money. Also, dad "supposedly" hates smoking yet every woman he's ever been with is/was a smoker. He believes I quit (if he knew I didn't, he'd probably throw me out) so I have to hide smoking. One of my good excuses is that I'm using my cell phone (since it doesn't work inside the house, TRUTH!), another is that I let the cat outside and making sure he doesn't run off.
Oh and the Best for last on the DAD SUCKS ASS rant. Friday, he kicks me! I still have the bruise that's about 4 inches in diameter! And that JUST the big one. Some of you might know of my migraines. Different side-effects for certain ones. 1.) limbs go numb such as: Hands, lips, tongue, foot. 2.) Extreme pain behind the eyes making it unbarable to open them. On Friday, 3.) Loss of mental capasity such as: limited vocabulary, memory loss, extreme confussion. Anyway, I took some asprin and went to bed before it got any worse (it's the only cure I got unless someone gives me strong painkillers). I wake up to my dad knocking at the door. I'm disoriented, hell I barely make it to the door and remember how to turn the knob. He's leaving for the weekend and (from what I remember) wanted me to give him my cell number. I couldn't remember. Dad thought I just didn't want to give it to him, even as I started crying out of frustration. I crumble to the ground behind my door... and he pushes it wide open, I'm sprawled out on the floor CRYING!!! Then he kicks me in the shin, HARD (remember what I said about the bruise?)!
I'm laying on the floor, helpless as a 3 year old, covering my head with my arms just incase dad's not done kicking, and my knee are curled up to my chest. Dad picks up my cell phone and messes with it and puts it back, saying nothing. I stay like that for half-hour. Then I bring myself to close the door, lock it, and crawl into bed, sobbing for a bit before going back to sleep.
I wake up again some time later to another knocking. I petrified at first, still not over my spell, but it's Shelley, my dad's girlfriend. I open the door slowly, my hands ready to slam and lock the door, I look and she's there alone. I tell her what happened and she said in a serious voice (not something you hear often for her) that she'll talk to him about it.
I wake to another knocking, soft, but it's my dad. By this time, I'm almost back to normal so I'm not as freaked. NOW he apologizes.
Show of hands..... Should my dad rot in hell for all eternity!?!?!?!?!?