Forgot to turn off my phone when I went to bed last night. However, it just so happened that at 10:30 my father had to call me/wake me up and tell me that whenever I get to Menards -- whenever, no pressure -- to get a price quote on wood for a new deck -- 10 feet by 20 feet, nine steps.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"IT'S FOR THE DECK!!!" My Fucking Father screams in that goddamn whiny voice, as if it's obvious he was talking about the deck. Listen motherfucker, getting a new deck is your own goddamn idea. See, this is one the things I got fed up with when he touched my last nerve last week. One of the things My Fucking Father complained about was not talking nicely whenever spoken to. I won't do it if you won't do it, asshole -- that's what I should've said to him last week too.