The Plot To Kill My Father Continues

*shoots arrows of death and more death*

That motherfucking father of mine has managed to yet again make me hate the very air he breathes. He does not deserve air. He does not deserve life. I will not go into the lifetime of fucked-up-ness but trust me, he should die.

Instead we will talk only about his current dastardly deeds.

About 2 years ago he bought me a car. This is the first genuinely good, non-selfish act the bastard has ever done for me. No, I'm not exaggerating. When he gave me the car he said that he would take care of the insurance (it's a whole extra 20 bucks on his premium, whoopee), oil changes, and any maintenance that comes up. Basically, I just have to put gas in the tank. This offer is good as long as I'm in school. Cool. Awesome. Thanks, Dad!

Fast forward to 1 year ago. My tags are due. I call the father to let him know he "puts them in the mail" along with a check for $75 because I was broke. A month later I told him they never came. Apparently they were conveniently lost by the post office. Yeah. Ok. 8 months later, still no tags. Ok... ok... He still gave me a car. It's ok, he'll send them when he remembers.

9 months ago: I need a new insurance card. It's in the mail. Never got it. Fuck, Dad, you're not doing this to me again, are you?

6 months ago: I need a new starter. I'm literally stranded at a gas station, my car refusing to start. I call Daddy-O and he magically gets a mechanic to meet me over there at the dead of night, tap on my starter so I can at least get home. He (dad, not mechanic) tells me he'll find a starter and he'll drive down and put it on. Awesome! Thanks, Dad!! Can you also bring the tags and insurance card???

Two weeks later: Still no Dad. Still no starter. I pray every time I get in my car that it will start. I tell him I'm going to buy a starter and I'll find someone that can put it on. He says he's sorry and that he will just meet me in Nashville and give me a check the next week. At least that way it can't get lost in the mail, right? Right. So ok, Dad. Sure.

Dad disappears for a few months.

My cell phone apparently stops working at this point. He tries to call. He tries to leave me messages. Bullshit.

3 Months ago: Dad friends me on Facebook. We don't actually speak.

1 months ago: I send Dad a message on Facebook to let him know that I really do need all this shit and he's the only one who can take care of it. No response. *twitch twitch* Pissed.

2 weeks ago: Dad calls. He has surgery in a week and a half. I'll have my stuff by Feb. Money's tight and he's sorry. Ok, Dad. Sure. I can deal. Just get it to me by Feb.

Today: Dad buys a new sports car for his wife. WTF!?!?!?!?!?!?! I thought money was tight! I thought you didn't have time to do anything, Dad! I thought you couldn't afford the $25 replacement tags and the $250 for the starter. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

You know what? Fuck you, Dad. FUCK. YOU.