at least i always know when he's coming

My dad has this pair of Edmonton Oilers track pants- and before I go on, if you think you're gonna come on here and tell me how much the Oilers suck, you can save your breath. I fucking know already, okay, so you'd better just shut up. Anyway, my sister gave them to him for Christmas or his birthday or something a few years ago. I'm pretty sure he forgot he still had them until she pointed out a few months ago that he never wore them anymore. Ever since then, he wears these stupid pants three, maybe four, times a week.

I should mention that my dad is a very restless person. Which wouldn't be a problem, but combine that with the fact that he has absolutely no hobbies, save watching Judge John Deed on BBC and asking me when I'm going to go back to school (NEVER, old man), it means that he kind of just wanders between the upstairs sitting room, the kitchen, and the downstairs TV room on a near-constant circuit until his shows are on.

In his track pants.

Fucking SWISH, SWISH, SWISH all goddamn day long is all I ever hear. I'm not kidding, I'm going to sneak those pants out of the laundry room one day, and set the fuckers on fire. There's no reason for someone who does nothing but shuffle around the house all the live long day to wear pants that aurally offensive.