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I will never speak to the fucker again. I honestly don't give a fuck if he was the one that introduced me to my favorite bands, what he did to me last night was un-fucking called for.
Yesterday, right when I was watching The Legend Of Korra (my new favorite show) my dad bursts into my room, tells me to shut the TV off right in the middle of a good part, not even during a commercial break, right smack in the middle of a good part. So I ask him "Why" in which he proceeds to give me a hard time, but he finally tells me that he wants to take the air conditioner out of my room.
Really? He had to pick NOW? Why couldn't he have done it in the afternoon when I could actually help him? He loves scotch and I already knew he was fucking ossified. So I storm out my room in anger because I'm missing my TV show, and also to give him some space. The fucker has the nerve to tell me "You know what? Fuck you, Francesco! You're a worthless peice of shit!"
I hit the roof. I hit the god-damned motherfucking roof when he said that, the fact that he kicked me out of my room in the middle of my TV show, It pissed me off, but I could forgive that. The fact that he called me a peice of shit was a whole another fucking ball game. So I screamed "FUCK YOU!" And soon I yelled that, he came charging twoard's me like a fucking deranged gorilla, backed me in a corner and began to fucking strangle me.
Now, lets get one thing straight, I may seem like an emotional pushover, but I can be one tough motherfucker when I want to be. I wasn't going to let him get any real hits in, So I stood my ground put up a fight. Even though he was pulling the shit out of my hair, I fought back and remained standing. It got so bad, our fighting, that my mother had to come in and break it up. That was last night and the two of us are still not talking.
The problem with my dad is that he is a fucking alcoholic with a short fuse (probably where I get it from) And before he started taking Zoloft, he used to punch walls, throw shit, and get into the WORST verbal fights with my mother. He never laid a hand on her, mind you. But he did lay a hand on me. Today was actually a rarity where he was an angry drunk, usually he's the kind of drunk that conks out from the alcohol on the couch and that's it for the night. Mom and Dad's marriage has hit an absolute low point and definitley forsee a possible divorce in the future.
I don't know how long this silent treatement will go on for. All I know is that I will never say anything to him anymore. He feels the same way too, except for a few hours ago, when he refused to give me gas money so I can go to my Sunday class he said "You want gas money, talk to your mother. By the way, I just want to let you know that you are a loser and you deserved everything that happened to you last night." Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha FUCK YOU!
Honestly, my mother is my fucking savior. She is one hell of a woman and despite the fact that sometimes we fight, I will always love and respect her.
Yesterday, right when I was watching The Legend Of Korra (my new favorite show) my dad bursts into my room, tells me to shut the TV off right in the middle of a good part, not even during a commercial break, right smack in the middle of a good part. So I ask him "Why" in which he proceeds to give me a hard time, but he finally tells me that he wants to take the air conditioner out of my room.
Really? He had to pick NOW? Why couldn't he have done it in the afternoon when I could actually help him? He loves scotch and I already knew he was fucking ossified. So I storm out my room in anger because I'm missing my TV show, and also to give him some space. The fucker has the nerve to tell me "You know what? Fuck you, Francesco! You're a worthless peice of shit!"
I hit the roof. I hit the god-damned motherfucking roof when he said that, the fact that he kicked me out of my room in the middle of my TV show, It pissed me off, but I could forgive that. The fact that he called me a peice of shit was a whole another fucking ball game. So I screamed "FUCK YOU!" And soon I yelled that, he came charging twoard's me like a fucking deranged gorilla, backed me in a corner and began to fucking strangle me.
Now, lets get one thing straight, I may seem like an emotional pushover, but I can be one tough motherfucker when I want to be. I wasn't going to let him get any real hits in, So I stood my ground put up a fight. Even though he was pulling the shit out of my hair, I fought back and remained standing. It got so bad, our fighting, that my mother had to come in and break it up. That was last night and the two of us are still not talking.
The problem with my dad is that he is a fucking alcoholic with a short fuse (probably where I get it from) And before he started taking Zoloft, he used to punch walls, throw shit, and get into the WORST verbal fights with my mother. He never laid a hand on her, mind you. But he did lay a hand on me. Today was actually a rarity where he was an angry drunk, usually he's the kind of drunk that conks out from the alcohol on the couch and that's it for the night. Mom and Dad's marriage has hit an absolute low point and definitley forsee a possible divorce in the future.
I don't know how long this silent treatement will go on for. All I know is that I will never say anything to him anymore. He feels the same way too, except for a few hours ago, when he refused to give me gas money so I can go to my Sunday class he said "You want gas money, talk to your mother. By the way, I just want to let you know that you are a loser and you deserved everything that happened to you last night." Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha FUCK YOU!
Honestly, my mother is my fucking savior. She is one hell of a woman and despite the fact that sometimes we fight, I will always love and respect her.
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