Day 111
Still on the home front. Today my father decided that I should tag along while he went to make a house payment. The entire fiasco was not all that thrilling and I am willing to bet that the amount of cigarettes he smoked during our few hours together has the same impact on my health as my entire 9 years of smoking. You could catch emphysema from just rubbing on his jacket.
Anyway, after we went to the bank where we stole a calendar and Christmas tags and he went to the bathroom for the 8th time today we went to the Super Wal-Mart. My dad decided to trade in his walker for a motorized cart. This is where the nightmare began. He thought it was hilarious to ram into my shopping cart with his motorized cart. He would push it until it got hung up and knocked over soup cans and stuffing boxes that I had to pick up. He also enjoyed backing the cart halfway up an aisle which is fine except for the obnoxious beeping but that beeping was nothing compared to what happened in the checkout line. So my father, after ramming my thighs with the cart, pulls up to write a check an event that takes him a minimum of 14 minutes. He has a check card at home that he has never used; it's too modern. Just as he begins writing the check his cart starts to have an almost siren-like beep go off, continuously. This did not speed up the check writing and he assured everyone around that it surely wasn't his cart making such a ruckus. That was when I walked away.
When we got back my father had me pull off to the newer part of town. He wanted me to see how horrible (his words) the Habitat for Humanity houses looked. We pulled up to one and he told me to look at the house next door to the Habitat house. "If that was my house I'd be pretty darn mad about that shit for house next door sitting there knocking down my property value. And, the people who live there well, they are just shit for people from the Phillipines or some damn place." My father is the only person I know of (thank God) who could put down the Habitat for Humanity. I chuckled to myself at the ridiculousness of his comments and he said, "What's so funny?" How do you explain to your father that he is a satire come true?
In an effort to not watch a horrible primetime crime show with a city in the title with my parents (see how they turned out) I decided to watch a movie called, Because I Said So starring Diane Keaton. I knew it would be girly but I like the cheesy sentimentality of that sort of thing. I started the movie and watched it and watched it and realized something was missing. It took another ten minutes and while Diane Keaton's character was having an emotional episode I realized what it was: I didn't give a damn about the characters. What an odd thing. Usually I can drum up some sympathy for any character I see on screen (i.e. Paris Hilton) but not this time. I was all like, "Shut up you whiny rich bitches who tell your mother how many orgasms you have in a night. So, main character, you have to guys vying for you are you are successful and pretty, must be real rough." Am I jaded or did this movie suck? I would ask someone but I really don't care. (jaded)
I am a huge grump who has eaten a year's worth of frosted cookies and brie today so I am going to bed to sulk and eat mints and pray that I have a John Stamos sex dream.
-Canadian (U.S.) Castaway
No comments:
Post a Comment