I know I’ve said before that I was unlikely to talk about my father very much, and a big part of that is my current frustration with his major flaws and how they affect my life. The other part of that is that he’s funnier than me, and I like to pretend that it’s not true, which is pretty messed up considered I don’t think I’m very funny at all…It’s a vicious cycle.

But then he goes and does some awesome stuff like making this adorable cork board thing for all my mum’s students to sign love notes on. Pretty spectacular.

Or then there’s the part where he swipped a folding screen from someone’s bulk trash just to bring it home and help me remake it into a MOTHERFUCKING TARDIS.

Yea. My dad’s going to make me a TARDIS. That’s fucking full of epic awesome goodness.

Best part, I never even told him I had planned on buying a cardboard one or was thinking about painting a door to look like one. I’ve just infected his mind with Doctor Who (keep in mind, neither of my parents watch it, but could tell you a whole lot about it) by drawing little TARDISes (i? ini?…es. …) in the corner of basically everything I can draw on, that his first thought on seeing this, was “British flag for Renee” and then his next was “Fuck no. TARDIS rocks.”

FUCKING TRAINED Y’ALL

I’m so damn proud.

And I’m going to have a TARDIS for my new house. This is so fucking badass. My dad kicks your dad’s ass with a folded spoon heated to 350*F and used for a baseball bat in Hell. Or something like that.

I’m going to go learn to Quickstep now. Ta

-Renee

Advertisements