Yes, Dad, I do realize that I was rude when I gave you the shortest answers possible, ate quickly, and tried to leave to go back to my game. I also probably should have said, "Dad, I would like to make this quick so I can shower and save before I go to work." Screaming at you to shut up also wasn't the wisest move to make.
Nevertheless, there's no need to snap at me and say, "Fine. Your game's more important, since obviously it'll dissolve if you leave it unattended for more than five minutes."
We both acted childishly. I, however, have an excuse -- I'm 17. I'm not as mature as you are. You're 50. You should, by now, realize that screaming at a teenager is not going to do anything but provoke them into screaming louder than you. Or did you forget that I'm not one of your students? Next time, dad, instead of trying to cow me into obedience with one of your fucked-up guilt trips, shut the fuck up and leave me the fuck alone. In the event that you can't (or wont') do that, try being quiet and rational. Fucktard. You are dangerously close to having me hold you in contempt. You have also proven that either you are just as much of an asshole when you're sober, or that you went back on your word and got drunk. Either way, things don't look pretty.
Your tried and true method of winning an arguement is to dig your heels in, no matter how retarded and flawed your arguement is, and wear the other person down until they're sick of fighting you and they give up out of pure exhaustion. Stop it. That makes me want to strangle you; and frankly, you're not worth my sitting in jail for life.
And next time? Do me a favor; don't put words in my mouth. You may THINK that I'm implying that you're terrible, but I never said that. Try that again and I may damn well prove you right. I'm this close to actually smashing your skull in.
Oh, and don't expect me to want to talk to you all the time. That's what this was all about, right? I'm 17 -- repeat, 17 -- and teenagers don't want to talk to your parents all the time, damnit. Don't take it as a personal blow every time I'm engrossed in something; do you expect me to have nothing better to do than to talk to you?
Nevertheless, there's no need to snap at me and say, "Fine. Your game's more important, since obviously it'll dissolve if you leave it unattended for more than five minutes."
We both acted childishly. I, however, have an excuse -- I'm 17. I'm not as mature as you are. You're 50. You should, by now, realize that screaming at a teenager is not going to do anything but provoke them into screaming louder than you. Or did you forget that I'm not one of your students? Next time, dad, instead of trying to cow me into obedience with one of your fucked-up guilt trips, shut the fuck up and leave me the fuck alone. In the event that you can't (or wont') do that, try being quiet and rational. Fucktard. You are dangerously close to having me hold you in contempt. You have also proven that either you are just as much of an asshole when you're sober, or that you went back on your word and got drunk. Either way, things don't look pretty.
Your tried and true method of winning an arguement is to dig your heels in, no matter how retarded and flawed your arguement is, and wear the other person down until they're sick of fighting you and they give up out of pure exhaustion. Stop it. That makes me want to strangle you; and frankly, you're not worth my sitting in jail for life.
And next time? Do me a favor; don't put words in my mouth. You may THINK that I'm implying that you're terrible, but I never said that. Try that again and I may damn well prove you right. I'm this close to actually smashing your skull in.
Oh, and don't expect me to want to talk to you all the time. That's what this was all about, right? I'm 17 -- repeat, 17 -- and teenagers don't want to talk to your parents all the time, damnit. Don't take it as a personal blow every time I'm engrossed in something; do you expect me to have nothing better to do than to talk to you?
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