Hating on the Postal Service

I HATE THE GOD DAMN POSTAL SERVICE, THEY ARE A BUNCH OF FUCKING DIPTARDS.

Ok so for the last month and a half I have been in battle with the USPS and the mighty powers of stupidity that steam from within its beuricatic bowls. My father and I have the same name save for our middle initial his is "L" and mine is "D". Well for the past 40 years my father has always received his mail when addressed Jerald Lynn Styles or JD Styles SR. I now into my late 20's almost into my 30's I have decided that its time for me to retrieve my own mail from my postal box.
So I do what any normal red blooded american does as a right of passage I change my address from mom and dads to my new home. *insert golf clap here* ENTER THE POST OFFICE with the collective intelligence of 3 day old cum on a hookers chin. Because my father and I share the same name different middle I have now began reciving his shit at my house. I try to explain to the man that all his mail that is coming via Johnathan David Styles or JD Styles or even J Styles will becoming to my house because we share a name that is similar and what have you. *Fire good when cooking, bad when touched.....*(said like a cave man) so this appeases the gods for a moment until the Prom Night Dumpster Baby of a Post Master decided to stamp Send to Johnathan D Styles ***50 San***** Dr SP#**8 M***** ****** , CA 9**** on my dads work check. NOT ONCE, NOT TWICE, BUT THREE FUCKING TIMES!!!!!!!!!!!!! So today I open the mail and lo and behold there is his fucking pay check staring at me like "Hi bitch how you do?" spinning me into a whole new level of pissed off. So I make the dreaded walk back into the house to call him knowing full well that he is about ready to crawl up my ass and place C4 explosives on my colon and detonate it as he is running the other way. So I dialed the number to rang the operator of death "HEY BOY" comes across the phone, and before I have a chance to state my case he says "my check is there isnt it?" I look around and out the window thinking that he may be watching me, and I said "yeah its..." *here begins the longest slue of profanity that I've ever heard in my life* when he stopped for a breath I quickly raised the white flag of SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET A BITCH SPEAK FOR A SECOND now that I had the platform I chose my words more carefully than a Greek Poet and delicately put them together in a calm soothing way to try and save what was left of my bleeding ass. "Dad I will go down and change my address to yours again but I have alot of things coming in the mail and you will have to fed ex them for next day service in order for me to get my affairs in order." *you could actually hear the crack of his psyche as he snapped and reverted backwards in time into a creature that I dont think the great minds of science have yet to unearth or categorizes into a genius or other branch of living or extinct animal yet to be classified so I went ahead and told him to give me his account number (which you would have thought that i had just asked the Pentagon for Launch Codes) but explained that i was going to go down to the bank and deposit his money into his account he was ok and cool with that idea. So the universe is back in somewhat of an order and things are not smooth but a little less bumpy.
So anyways I hope you've enjoyed this latest installment of WHY THE WORLD IS MY FAULT.