Re: What made you feel giddy today?
More like what made me giddy yesterday.
DEAR OLD DAD came by my place and we went grocery shopping, figured we'd make ourselves some food and have a good time.
So we went shopping, shopped them groceries real good we did, shopped the fuck out of them macaronis and stuff.
And then as we were to leave the parking lot, some slow-ass guy came sloooowly driving into the parking lot, blocking our getaway avenue with his slow ass of a car.
DEAR OLD DAD was less than impressed, and grumbled about the slow-ass guy, and me being the level-headed indifferent person that I am suggested that theres more important things to be mad about than traffic.
While DEAR OLD DAD's mild irritation was diffused, little did I know what I had just done. If only I had known.
So we get back to my place, make ourselves some food, DEAR OLD DAD was curious about trying the chicken sausage I had suggested as replacement for plain ol' FALUKORV, so we got down to business and cooked.
We cooked them macaronis and chicken sausages good. They never stood a chance. Tasty stuff. DEAR OLD DAD found the latter palateable, and that was good. He also didn't use too much salt on the, uh, google says the english term is "creamed macaroni", that just sounds wrong. What is wrong with you people?
Anyhow, in the days of me and my sisters youth he had accidentally used too much salt when cooking creamed macaroni (seriouslyyouenglishpeoplewhatiswrongwithyou), and we'll never forget that just to jab a little at him. Being a DEAR OLD DAD he can take it in stride, or as he says "as long as it is said with a gleam in the eye", you can joke and jab at eachother all in good fun.
Naturally, the jabbing of sides is a two-way street. If only I had foreseen the consequences from commenting on his traffic rage.
So after we had finished eating, we went with our standard procedure; with me sitting down at the computer and doing what I do at it. Absolutely nothing productive whatsoever. With DEAR OLD DAD occupying my couch. He fucking loves my couch for some reason, no doubt a major contributing aspect of why he enjoys chilling at my place.
And since I were at the computer, I figured I'd play some vidya, as I often do. Specificly, I figured I'd play some Firefall to deal with the current event in it. As I hadn't played it for a few days, I had a bunch of event tokens to spend in one go, and I figured the best way to spend them was to use as many of them as possible in one go. This included using non-cash currency to get some cash currency to get a 1-hour long Voucher boost, so I could earn more event vouchers faster with my event tokens.
Naturally, with having a limited time on that boost, and being a right ornery greedy person I wanted to make the absolute most out of that one hour. This meant I had to do the event objective as good as possible to clock in gold-tier rewards over silver-tier rewards.
To recap, limited time boost = pressure, requirement to carry out the objective as good as possible = pressure, this means DOUBLE PRESSURE! WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!
It meant I naturally was more tense, and thus more liable to become frustrated when things didn't turn out as well as I wanted them to.
If only I had known the consequences of my actions.
For the most part I dealt with the objective with flying colors, some gold and some silver, and I had the event objective all for myself. Except that one time.
I started another run shortly after another person. A laggy person. As I pushed my performance in pursuit of gold, I had this one laggy-ass person right infront of me blocking my way. And then the fucker teleport-lagged so I ended up right in his fucking ass, costing me precious time that ensured I wouldn't get gold-tier reward this run.
Naturally, I cursed. This caught DEAR OLD DAD's attention, for even when he's cozy on a couch and reading his newspaper, he ain't oblivious to his surroundings. He asked if things were going well for me. (Sadly he didn't go "You winning, son?", he ain't genre savvy enough)
So I explained the situation, completely oblivious to what I was setting myself up to. Oblivious to the fact I was essentially loading his gun for him. I explained to him the situation, that a slow-ass guy had poor internet and I had ended up ramming into his rear during the racing event.
An event involving players driving their big damn bikes trying to go fast, where I in this one instance had let my temper go due to another driver.
"Son, no need to be upset about traffic." - DEAR OLD DAD, with a grossly incandescent gleam in his eyes.
I stared dumbfounded at him, slowly realizing the errors of my ways... And then I laughed with him over it all.
Cheeki fucking breeki, DEAR OLD DAD. Cheeki fucking breeki.