Now my dad is draining me and making me feel bad. He’s set up shop in the garage downstairs and is “having a gewd tiem” listening to a CD I made for him. What could be wrong? He’s showing thanks. He enjoys good music. Seems like a no-problem, on the surface.

It’s hard to explain, but underneath, he’s the devil. And it’s a very, sticky situation.

Fuck.

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