Somerset is a better friend than Mary Jane

So my dad just walked in the front door no more than 10 minutes ago. He
came home from New York for Memorial weekend. Well, that is what I'm
guessing. We (as in the fam) didn't know he was coming, we were actually supposed to go to New York to visit him.

He brought home presents. I should be appreciative of what he got me but he got me shit. He obviously does not know me.

My dad brought me a Grateful Dead shirt. I don't even listen to them and
he said "I don't think Jennifer will like this" and he proceeded to
give me the ugly shirt. If he has an idea that I might not like the
band/shirt, then why the hell did he buy me it? All I asked for was a
notorious "I <3 New York" tee.

He also got me a tye-dye bandanna.


Everything smelt of incense. Why the hell would my dad go to a hippie shop? He's
conservative to the wazoo. This calls for an ultimate "WTF?!".

When he gave me the repugnant shirt and hippie smelling bandanna I said "What? You want me smokin' pot? I'm a hippie now?".


My dad, no lie, said these words: "Go ahead, you're 18 now," in front of my mother no less.


What the fuck man? Now that I'm 18 I can smoke pot? I have permission to smoke pot?

What's the point of doing it when I have permission. There won't be any joy if
I take part in the action. He obviously does not know me. I'm against
smoking any sort of tobacco, well of anything that can be smoked. I
throw away his packs of cigarettes any chance I get. He blows up
whenever I do that. What makes him think I'll have interest hittin' up the ol' Mary Jane?

What the fuck dad, get out of the house and go back to New York. I'm not
going with you either, so stop trying to persuade me to look up art
schools in the area.

And two story malls are not going to
coax me to move either. There's a three story mall in Troy, I'm content
with going to that mall.