God. Damn. It.
'Kay, my dad is officially acting like a five-year-old.
I have to do an outline for my human geography class, right? So I get home from shopping with mom and Harley, and dad is in the office listening to music. So I go into the office and tell dad, "Yo, dad, I need to do my homework," and he gets all pissy because I need to use the office computers so I can print my outline. So he throws a little temper tantrum and goes outback to listen to music. I'm cool with it though, 'cause it's not unusual in the slightest. He does shit like this all the time.
So I'm getting my HG book ready to do my outline when dad comes back into the office. He says that he doesn't like being treated like an idiot, and he knows that I only want the office so I can listen to my music and talk to my friends on IM, WHEN IN REALITY, I want the office because it's easier to do it in here directly instead of getting on the laptop, typing it up, putting it on a disk, bringing it in here, putting it on the computer, fixing the format, and then printing it. But no. Dad is always right. Always. No exceptions.
So he goes back outside while I kill him in my head. I get done with my outline right as he comes back into the office to get his cigarettes, so I ask him to fix the printer 'cause it's not workin' right with my computer (same situation as last night, mind you). And he says, "You're the computer genius, you fix it. You've told me at least three times this month that my age and experience mean nothing."
. . .
Dad, what the fuck. Seriously. You fixed it last night, you dumbass, and you know perfectly well that my experience is with SOFT WARE, and now because of your little hissy fit, I won't be able to print out my homework. Good job dad. You're so mature.
I seriously want to punch my dad in the face.
I have to do an outline for my human geography class, right? So I get home from shopping with mom and Harley, and dad is in the office listening to music. So I go into the office and tell dad, "Yo, dad, I need to do my homework," and he gets all pissy because I need to use the office computers so I can print my outline. So he throws a little temper tantrum and goes outback to listen to music. I'm cool with it though, 'cause it's not unusual in the slightest. He does shit like this all the time.
So I'm getting my HG book ready to do my outline when dad comes back into the office. He says that he doesn't like being treated like an idiot, and he knows that I only want the office so I can listen to my music and talk to my friends on IM, WHEN IN REALITY, I want the office because it's easier to do it in here directly instead of getting on the laptop, typing it up, putting it on a disk, bringing it in here, putting it on the computer, fixing the format, and then printing it. But no. Dad is always right. Always. No exceptions.
So he goes back outside while I kill him in my head. I get done with my outline right as he comes back into the office to get his cigarettes, so I ask him to fix the printer 'cause it's not workin' right with my computer (same situation as last night, mind you). And he says, "You're the computer genius, you fix it. You've told me at least three times this month that my age and experience mean nothing."
. . .
Dad, what the fuck. Seriously. You fixed it last night, you dumbass, and you know perfectly well that my experience is with SOFT WARE, and now because of your little hissy fit, I won't be able to print out my homework. Good job dad. You're so mature.
I seriously want to punch my dad in the face.