Yeah, it was fucking sick. It was like diarrhea. On the walls, ceiling, mirrors, floor, etc. I dont know why somebody would do that.
My dad is always nervous about shit. His idea of teaching me was him driving my truck to Taft furniture’s parking lot, having me drive for less than 10 minutes while yelling and getting all nervous and paranoid and then him driving home.
My mom also taught me how to drive when I got my permit, basically for the same reasons.