So My Fucking Mother blew up on me yesterday at dinner. I walked out with just a t-shirt just as My Fucking Father opened the back door, letting the relative cool air in. "Wear a shirt!" she screamed. Bitch, you know how it is in my bedroom?! And how in the hell was I supposed to know he was going to fucking open the door?!
And My Fucking Father was nagging me today after dinner. He asked me over, then said, "Why don't you do your taxes? You're not doing anything, right?" Fuck you. I was going to do them this weekend, but since he just nagged at me about that bullshit, and now that we've all been extended until July 15, I'm not fucking going to it this weekend, OK?
I've been home too fucking much.
And My Fucking Father was nagging me today after dinner. He asked me over, then said, "Why don't you do your taxes? You're not doing anything, right?" Fuck you. I was going to do them this weekend, but since he just nagged at me about that bullshit, and now that we've all been extended until July 15, I'm not fucking going to it this weekend, OK?
I've been home too fucking much.
No comments:
Post a Comment