Call Me Dirty Minded

8. Call My Family Eccentric

IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE; MAKE SURE YOU ALL READ THE END THINGO vvv

Shank yew.

~~~~

Chapter 8

Call My Family Eccentric

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My usual upbeat punk pop music played loudly pursuing through my earphones and out in the air, like a little concert. I side walked dancing a little to the music, it was quite a view if you were a stranger walking by. I hop a little here, slide a little there, raise my hands in the air, and shake it like I don't ca-

Skye, no cliché 90s song lines please. So I simply stuff my hands back in my batman hooded jacket and walk through the street, even though the music was tempting to rock my non ass to I restrained.

Bubble bubble bubble butt, yah bubble butt.

What the fu- flubba doodle? I turned hearing a car drive by with loud (immature yet good booty shaking) music being pumped out of the speakers like no tomorrow. The clear L sign of the top and back of the bumper made me chuckle. Immature asshole and his ways, bet yah no parental guidance either.

The vibrations of the car bouncing up and down like some ghetto flick, with the car screeching against the pavement made me feel like I'm in some 'Pimp my Ride' episode. I turn and lean to see the driver but all I saw was a singular black hoodie jamming to its beat, a clear 1983 DeLorean DMC-12 rampaging the streets like some high guy on weed brownies. I chuckle at the scenery, the car felt like I was watching Back in the Future or something.

I shake my head to turn back until I saw the hoodie figure turn, fork me dead...

It couldn't be.

No way in hell.

Or heaven.

That couldn't be my-

"SKYE! LOOK YOUR OLD DAD IS COOL AGAIN!"

Forking Flubba Doodle and 300 quarters of meat pies and chairs with hats and sandwiches with a little touch of air vents! Ugh, that couldn't be who I think it is.

"Yo!!! Skye Light Einstein, it's yo daddio!" I literally slapped my forehead and groan in embarrassment of my so-called-dad, especially with calling my middle name. Middle name? Ah lovely 'light', I see what you did there mum and dad... skye light, haha... screw this. My dad continued riding along then parking in front of me.

I see as he pulls off his hoodie revealing his largely shiny bald head, ah and there is my dad. My divine tattooed bald father with yes a nipple ring, he had a wild past. Never thought he could be such a jokester, but there he is... riding probably a rental and using a library tape of 'Biggest Ghetto Songs Out'. Talk about mortified of parent's.

I groan exasperated and forking humiliated.

"Dad... really? Last time it was clown in a van which by the way could be called Pedo Olympics"

"Oh Skye, I was only having fun! Giving free candy and balloons to kids, just trying to make people's day"

I furrowed my brows crossing my arms, "Dad you need to get updated on the 411 of how this generation sees things now-a-days"

"True, true... but Ryan liked it!"

I shake my head sighing heavily, "Really? Ryan? The idiot who's in the 'leather jacket group' which consists of wearing leather jackets all day which they do not wash! And have really bad beo, in which case they sip a bit of alcohol each day and stare down randoms who pass, and always like to clarify they're from some awesome club and you can't fight back as they gaze their perverted eyes at you? Oh of course, of course he liked it"