Bully for you! Since we're sharing family horror stories, my father reeks of stale underwear, lager, and moldy newspapers. I pay the bastard's rent and we go on hating one another. After six months of being prodded and melting faces off, I've had to make sure his insane arse isn't out on the street where he's begging for change and yelling things about how JFK died for everyone.
Look. I'll try not to be utterly intolerable, but you've got to aim lower. You've set your sites too high.