My dad is not a quiet man. Nine minutes out of 10, he is making some sort of needless noise. Sometimes it is warranted — he has painful foot issues and bad knees, so when he gets up off the couch, he usually grunts loudly and mumbles, “Goddamn!” He is also a smoker, so when he coughs, he coughs a lot, some of which sounds a bit phlegmy. He also farts. It is OK that I share this with all five of you, because he tells me about his gastrointestinal issues with a big childish grin on his face. Sometimes I even hear him walking around outside my room and with every step he takes, a small fart will come out. This kind of grosses me out, but I know he can’t really help these things.
On the other hand, if his body isn’t emitting some sort of gas, creak or grunt, he is physically breaking into song or making a senseless noise of sorts. Smacking his lips, making unnatural fart noises, talking to himself, composing stupid songs. His favorite song to sing? “Suck, butt, f*ck, screw, cunnilingus.” Verbatim. I hate this song.