My strep father is someone I rarely talk about, and since I've been posting on public forums (circa 1998) I've never mentioned him. However, the Hydrocodone has got me in a talkative mood. My stepfather was a guy who was involved in a number of traffic accidents, and most (well hell all of them) were his fault. So tonight I'm dedicating this thread to him and his hilarious episodes of "I can't drive but it's everyone else's fault" driving history. The one I'll share now is the most hilarious one. The infamous Milk Truck story. When I was in the sixth grade my stepfather and mother went to work just before I went to school, and since we lived so far away, they would drop me off at my aunt's house so I could ride to school with her. Anyway, since it was 5:00 in the morning and an hour drive my step dad would stop at the store and get himself a cup of coffee. Pops had to have that pic me up like I have to have my full throttle in the morning today. Anyway, my mom was not with us this one morning because her shift started two hours earlier during this time of the year. So we go to our usual store, no one is usually there that time of morning, but as fate would have it, the Barbers Milk Truck was making a delivery this morning. My step dad goes inside gets his coffee and brings me back a mountain dew. This was the time of year Mountain Dew was having the march madness game, where if the team under your cap wins the titleyou win a prize. Anyway, he asked who my team was and I told him. It was some school neither one of us had heard of, so we laughed about it. My step dad began backing up laughing saying "They don't print out too many Kentucky and Kan..." BAM! Stopped what he was saying, and his smile had turned into that annoyed pissed off look, with the sigh too, that I had received many times before. My stepfather was almost 60 years old and I had never ever heard him say "fuck" in my life. His next sentences were as follows: "That motherfucking Milk Truck is parked in the fucking way. Let me get out and see if my fucking car is fucked up. I outta go in there and kick his ass." He was covered in coffee, as as the windshield and steering wheel. He gets back in the car and says I got fucking coffee all over my ass. I was laughing my ass off. I then said, it's a good thing I put the top back on my drink, huh. Then he yells at me to shut the hell up, and he just drives away. I say , "you ain't gonna stop and wait for the cops, it's an accident..." "Shut the hell up!" We drive down the road, in silence, minus my laughing. We stop at a red light and then he just runs the damn thing. I said, "You just ran the red light!" He gives me an annoyed look and says, "what the hell is wrong with you". My mom picks me from school that day and I tell her the story laughing my ass off, and she starts laughing her ass off too. When we get to my aunt's house my step dad is sitting outside playing a cross word puzzle game. It's obvious he is still pissed and doesn't want to be bothered. So I go up to him and politely say, "You know you are missing a tail light and your back bumper is busted up, right?" He says get away from him. Then in a very concerned voice I ask, "What happened?" He then yells at me to leave him the hell alone. So it's obvious something is bothering him so I go inside to get him something to drink to be a good son. I bring him a nice cold glass of milk and ask if he would like some milk. THen his rude ass gets up and drives away. I told everyone about it and people always asked him "Got Milk?" Also for Christmas that year I bought him The Dead Milkman's CD with Punk Rock Girl on it. Can you believe he hated it? What an ass! I got loads more of these stories, if ya wanna hear them, y'all.