Somehow after 10 minutes of being home, my father managed to talk through some rather important scene, stand in front of the screen, crumple paper through a scene in which the silence is very important and is now in the kitchen coughing over and over becuase he's pissed that I sighed heavily and left the room when he kept fucking talking.
most of the time I really hate living here. Sometimes I loathe it.
And then... he moves back to the living room.. with a bag of chips.
If you've ever seen The Others, you can imagine how ... mood killing it is to have someone eat CHIPS throughout.
and he talks back to the screen.