So, check this out: my dad comes storming into my room just a few minutes ago, and he's all: "I've told you a million times to sweep the dust out of the front hall, blah, blah, blah, responsibility, I'm a loser who hasn't gotten a promotion at work in 20 years so I'm going to bitch at my son, blah."I keep telling him that if he doesn't like dust in the front hall, maybe he should move off of a DUSTY planet, but then he goes (imagine a guy who sounds like a total douche): "Our family's been on Mars for 12 generations! I was born here and I'm going to stay here! When you're 18 you can go live on Venus, but good luck finding a job there!"
Fuck, are everybody's parents so full of shit? Red Planet? More like SUCK Planet.
Maybe I will move to Venus, where the girls are all total sluts, or maybe Saturn, where the drinking age is like 14. You can't control me, Dad. I'm not going to working for the same Protein Processing Nexus for the next forty years, okay? I've got ambitions. And believe me, if I ever have a kid, I'm not gonna make him sweep up dust every weekend. I own a VAN, fucker! That makes me like royalty around this shitty town, and you've got me sweeping floors!
GOD, my dad sucks!
I'm totally blowing out of here as soon as my band makes a hit record.
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