And the fun doesn't stop there, ladies and gentlemen. No, no, I have ended my breif sabbatical from the internet and returned with several little morsels of joy. These memories are quite amusing, to say the very least. That being said, here goes...
Let me start this off with the necessary *snort* *snigger-snigger* *chuckle* *laugh* *snigger* *hush* In all honesty, this one kind of outshines all the other memories. However, I'll begin with the cliche, there's one in every family. In this case, it would be Crazy Aunt Mersel and her deep belief that "the force runs strong in women in our family." This force being, the much sought after extra sensory abilities and the predisposition to be sucessful at chanelling spirits and witchcraft. She, herself believes that she can project her spirit from her body to go visit and speak to relatives and give them support. Now hold on, dont run away mad. This has a very logical explaination. Well maybe not exactly logical, but the point is it does actually have a explaination, and therefore I have an excuse with which to explain this small amount of family insanity/superstition. Evidently, it began with my great great grandmother(therefore my great aunt Mersel & grandma's mother) and when the cows got sick, she would herd all the kids inside and tell them they couldn't come out until she was finished. She would then take her spellbook and go out and do incantations over afflicted animals, and they would get better. Wait, stay with me here. I know what you're thinking because my cousin said it outloud. "She had a spellbook... for cows?!?" Rest assured that there is a reason we call her "crazy". However, there are people, like my great Aunt Iona's adopted daughter who is literally jealous that she does not share our bloodline and therefore cannot tap into the family ESP juice. My grandma, Ms.I-was-the-church-secretary-for-20-yea
Memory #2: Stanky-Franky
Well, my relatives Jason and Lisa, who love to swim, wanted to take their children swimming at the hotel swimming pool, only to find their hotel didn't have one. As mine did, I offered to sneak them in as guests of a fashion, and just not tell anyone about it. Mind you, their children are both ridiculously adorable. Couldn't be cuter if they were beaten with a cute stick. Anyway, graphic cruelties aside, neither of them were particularly keen to get in the water. Therefore, a semi-frustrated Lisa opted to test out the sauna while Delia, their 5 year old daughter, went to the bathroom. I, then was talking to Jason who was lounging in the hot tub while Franky, their 2 year old son, was standing in front of the hot tub staring at his father. Suddenly, I notice a geyser on Franky's back, as a literal explosion of diarrhea overwealms his diaper and escapes onto the tile directly in front of the hot tub. After notifying Jason of this and getting Franken-shitter cleaned up, Lisa and I attended to his green-ish puddle and thanked our lucky stars it hadn't gotten into any of the water. I was once again reminded why I do not wish to have children for a very long time. Diaper detail would probably be the best motivation for abstinence, if the D.A.R.E. and Health programs would learn how to effectively exploit disgusting inconveniences to frighten away hormones and relieve teenage sexual tension. When they do figure it out and introduce it into the curriculum, I want credit, damn it.
I cannot go visit Matt.
Matt is ridiculously depressed.
I am too. That, you know, guilt thing.
Coughing up blood... agian.