I love hangovers...

But that's probably because I don't drink. I enjoy the idea that someone can be physically punished by none other than their own sickly body the morning after. Such a good idea, God! Thats why he's God, y'know. All of my friends drink, and the morning after they all feel like dirt in an elephants favourite sitting spot. Its good, because they piss me off. Not all of them may have actual full-blown hangovers, but they all feel like crap just the same. A lot of the time they'll just puke their guts out all over the place, and thats okay too. The whole situation is pretty funny to me. Gee, lets damage our livers and our brains with massive amounts of something that doesn't even taste good. Hey, if it tasted like tacos, I'd be in rehab, but it doesn't so I'm okay. I don't like having to make the "alcohol face", of scrunching up my features at every drink I take. It really tastes bad. I really can't stand two things though... people who say beer tastes good, and the fact that my dad doesn't get hangovers. Okay, first the beer. Beer is sickening, and I for one cannot distinguish between types of beer. Nor would I want to, for that would mean I would have to taste a lot of it. Lets see whats in beer for flavour... barley? No... wheat? No... hops? I don't think so. Beer must be made to be bad. Non alcoholic beer is a ridiculous concept that I don't even want to get into. My family bought some for my dad as a gag for fathers day. Ahh, quite a lead in, non? My "father". I use " " because it has never been proven we are related. Same with my "sister and mother". I despise them all for different reasons, and one of the big ones for my "father" is that he is a mild alcoholic. I say mild because he does not drink beer for breakfast... yet. He probably would if he was divorced. His complaint is that we complain about his drinking. Well, I wonder why that is? I come home last week from a short camping excursion and find my room a mess, with my speakers in disarray on the floor and my phone ripped out of the wall and smashed. He, of course was the only one home and was passed out on the couch. Yay. The rest of the house wasn't too hot either. I remember a time he was drunk and my "parents" were arguing in the bathroom (right next to my room, yay!). Well, somehow it came up that no one thought he was "happy" or something equally stupid and he screamed for me to get up(I always pretend to be asleep as to avoid exactly this kind of shit..). I do, pretend to be groggy, and he screams at me to slash his face with the razor he is holding. He says to do it so it looks like he is always smiling. How fucked up is that? How cool is that to do to your kid? You must remember I was MUCH younger then so it sort of stained and traumatized me. I was scared. But most recently, what made me write this today, was that I just had my first day of work at my new job. I came home, damn tired since I got up early to write an exam too. Well, I fell asleep with the tv on in my room. Shit. He stumbles in at Lord only knows when and bugs the shit out of me. I was so tired, so tired. Well, he goes on about his experiences at the bar, and how friggin tough he is. He talks about some guy who asked if he "wanted a present" or something like that (its hard to remember, I was so tired and I only truly recall that he was annoying as hell). He asks me what he should have done over and over, and I just roll over to go back to sleep, but he keeps talking. He talks about the present guy and if he should have beat him up(yeah right dad, you're 50) and the band and Oh I would have liked the band, I'll take you tomorrow and you can have a soda and watch me get FUCKING TANKED... FUCK! Yeah, so that was no fun at all. And he didn't get a hangover. He never gets a hangover, rather he wakes up all giddy and stupid calling me "johnny potatoes" or "johnny pumpkin" or whatever the fuck. Sure it may sound like nothing, but let him call you that for 18 YEARS.

"Hey Johnny Crackers, hows it going?"

Fuck off and die, dammit!!

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