backyard crowing
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'you're gonna die soon!' - sarah silverman
i hate my dad, i do.
he's such an asshole i hope he dies soon.
today i had my cell phone right next to my ear and i was waiting for him to come drop off the couch for the living room. he came and called four times, and then i vaguely heard the sound of ringing in my ears. i still kind of hear it, imagine that.
he goes 'do you have a drug problem?' and i said, 'no.' and he says, 'well, you have a sleep problem and you need to fix it,' like he doesn't. just because he's doing so-so with his sleeping doesn't mean he's now the king and can judge the rest of humanity on it. he's a complete idiot, i can't wait until he's out of my life for good.
i really, really, hate the fucking bastard.
he thinks i'm going to join him tonight and spend the weekend, yeah, right. i can figure out how to put this piece of shit together on my own, asshole. and if not, then it'll be broken because of you, only i won't care because it's just a fucking couch, we could drop the mattress part on the floor and it would be fine.
i hope he never calls or e-mails for the rest of the day. apparently he still thinks we're meeting. i have no desire whatsoever to be around the self-righteous idiot ever again.
Right now I just want to eat a thousand pizzas and throw up a thousand throw ups and injest all the heroin in the world so I can be dead, so I can have a problem. My drug is apathy in one form or another, or maybe a little my long lost loves, and he’s not going to get that.
The pills are there. The vodka is there. They’d do it, but then it would be his doing.
The funny part is that he thinks it’s drugs. He thinks it’s partying. He thinks it’s sex, anything but “she was sick of life so she played a video for twelve hours straight and never went to bed.”
And he looked into my eyes today again to see if they were to dilated or contracted, he’s hilarious. It offends me, only it makes me laugh. I’m better for this absurd experience, at least I’ve been asked the same question as a junkie in the same way. And a little of the guilt is in my eyes, because yes, I tried weed last week, but it shouldn’t be there, because I don’t feel guilty about it. The problem with guilt is that even if you don’t have it, it shows up in your face. So yes, I am in favor of legalizing pot now, because I am in favor of smoking it myself.
Blogger mme. Sunday, though I loved her, is turning into a mommy blogger. I’ll still read her of course, but it’s not the same…
There is no way I’m calling nat today to see if we’re still going apartment hunting. I would rather die. Then again I feel like if I don’t I’m letting her down…oh well, if she really wants to, she’ll call.
Okay, so I just looked at my call log. He called at 1:11 pm, and then again at 1:15 pm, which is when we said we’d meet. Then at 1:15 pm, I called him back, because I heard the ringing in my ears.
Conclusion:
-he called me two times
-he waited a whopping FOUR minutes for me to respond
-he IS going to get his deposit back for renting the truck, that will still be free
-he is an ass, just as I suspected
Yep, there’s no way I’m going to his house tonight. I’m going to avoid him like hell itself, although I’m sure some would say I welcome hell.
There, now I can sleep. At least now I know that there’s some justice in the world, I’m heard.
- saturday, feb. 21, 2009
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