Well, the world didn't end. Which is good, I guess, right? Glad that's over with. Now that I've officially made an ass of myself, allow me to become normal for a few minutes and share my tales of victory and woe.

Let's begin.

I work at Dairy Queen. I make 8$ an hour, which is as low as it gets. It's been alright for the last few months, but now I'm getting caught up in the drama that goes around. Basically, there are two owners and one general manager (His name is Steve. Keeps pointing out that he's very Christian). The TRUE owner's name is Dave, and he invited his surrogate brother, Scott, to join in being part-owner. In turn, they invited another surrogate brother, Jack, to become a worker for 10$ an hour. Steve is the general manager, and quite possibly the best adult I've ever met. Now, Dave likes me and my performance, as does Steve. Scott is a bit of a weird one. He's all laid back and casual. No religion, no real problems. He gets the ladies (he lives from one fuck to the next, basically) and plays sports and hangs out on the beach. He's a typical guy-guy. Real typical. I just happen to hate people like this. Immensely. Now, Jack is a whigger, and basically just like Scott. Jack is an asshole (he's from Surrey, so no real wonder there). He's violent and once again, your typical male. Fucking prick. So then there's this grade 9 (I hate grade 9's too, by the way. Fucking hormone-riddled slutbags) named Evan who recently started working. He's so massively full of himself. Full of himself enough to butt in on a conversation about religion that Steve and I were having and announced himself Atheist, and said Christianity was silly. I wouldn't care, normally, but I like Steve, so I saw this as being arrogant. Anyhow, Evan is turning into another Scottjack. Three of these fuckers in one workplace. Sometimes all on the same fucking shift. Good godsdamn.

Anyhow. I can put that aside. I was offered a job that includes me sitting and doing fuck-all for ten bucks an hour. For like, ten or twelve hours a day. How great is that? Like, really?! Fuck, man. That pays more in one day than I work in a weekend! Life is good!

...no. Not really.

So I decide to attempt to bring my dad into the loop and tell him about this awesome, sweet new job offer I got. I'm greeted with hostility and bitching about how I'm not spending enough time on schoolwork. Bear in mind that he's been on my ass about me failing grade 12 all fucking year. He believes that since he dropped out in grade 11 due to drugs and getting girls pregnant that I'll follow in the same role. Fucking shithead, I called him on me passing his checkpoint and getting through okay. I can fail three fucking classes this year and STILL pass grade 12. He doesn't believe me, because hey, I'm just a kid, I don't matter.

So I don't do drugs, I'm not sexually active, I spend my time AT HOME and I've never had real problems in school. He threatens to kick me out, ground me... things like that because I'm being 'rude.' So he asks me why I'm being 'rude,' and I explain to him why I'm being 'rude.' He doesn't seem to understand, or... it's not enough of a good reason for him. So he asks me again. Five times. I answer the same. Maybe all that weed blew out his fucking memory, no idea. There's more to the story, but I've run out of steam to tell it.

I'm getting out of here as soon as possible. I can't live with this fuck any longer. And I will NOT have kids. Ever. Fuck this shit.