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This is a question Black Sheep

Every family has their black sheep, deserved or not. We're still not talking to an uncle who "borrowed" the capital from the family firm, causing it to collapse and leaving my dad out of work for 4 years in his mid 40s. Who aren't you talking to?

(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 9:17)
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This question is now closed.

black sheep
It should really be my sister since it came out last year that she had starred in some amateur hardcore videos..

However, it turns out to be me after getting caught by my GF wanking over them....
(, Sun 16 Jan 2005, 17:23, Reply)
Think I might be.
I've been looked quite poorly on by my family since last christmas. I have a dark sense of humor which was proved when i bought my younger brother who suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder a set of "day of the week" socks then a month or so later took away the friday socks. I don't think my mum will ever forgive me for the day of fun she had trying to convince my brother that he can wear Saturday socks on a Friday.
(, Mon 17 Jan 2005, 2:43, Reply)
I got caught smoking pot.
Then they found out my teacher had done my A levels for me.
Then I fought a photographer outside a nightclub.
Next I claimed I had a bad knee and would have to delay joining the military, and subsequently went skiing on my 'bad knee'.
And just to top it all, I got caught wearing a Nazi uniform at a fancy dress party, whilst my gran's off to Auschwitz in 2 weeks to lead a commemoration.
Silly me. Baaaaa.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 12:15, Reply)
Uncle Rastus
Mum recently got all our old "cine camera" tapes(crap old thing that filmed about 8 seconds of footage with no sound before needing more film)put on video.

My sister watching her own christening inquires as to the origin of the single noticable black fella amoung all recognisable peolpe entering the church to which my dad tells her

"That's Uncle Rastus, he's the black sheep of the family ..... Mum refuses to talk of him"

My sister often talks about how its a shame that we never kept in contact with Uncle Rastus ....... she is now 28.

Apologies for length and to the random bloke that Mum caught on film, I hope he enjoyed the Christening he was attending after ours.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2005, 12:21, Reply)
Uncle Bri
His most famous moment was doing the following gag on my first ever, very sensitive girlfriend. We were 16.

"Hello luv. I'll tell you a joke so funny it'll make your tits fall off.

(extended comedy pause staring at her tits)

Oh you've heard it!"

Actually I do speak to him, but not that often. Also in his apocrypha is a story where a monkey throws a poo at him in London zoo. Never to be outdone, he shits in an ice cream pot and lobs one right back at the monkey. But that might be lies.
(, Mon 17 Jan 2005, 9:29, Reply)
My favourite uncle
Before I was even a teenager, my "uncle" (mum's sister's second husband) had introduced me to alcohol, hallucinogenic drugs, firearms and hardcore pornography.

He was my favourite uncle.

As I grew older he made comprehensive attempts to fuck my mother, my sister, my female cousins, and all my male cousins' girlfriends. He recently attempted to fuck my wife-to-be (the wedding is in three weeks).

He is no longer my favourite uncle.
(, Tue 18 Jan 2005, 15:37, Reply)
Family rift over game console
My auntie hasn't spoken to her brother since he broke her Sega Megadrive in about 1993.

My family is ridiculous.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2005, 17:55, Reply)
My Brother...
...became the black sheep of the family after dropping out of University and going to hairdressing college instead.

He's barber black sheep.

(With apologies to Spike Milligan for nicking the gag)
(, Sat 15 Jan 2005, 16:18, Reply)
best fun since the war
As there seems to be a lot of depressing stories going on right now thought id try and cheer people up.
A friend of mine has got bipolar disorder what used to be called manic depression. As some may know this can run in familes and sure enough his grandad on his dads side was and is the same however it seemed to have skipped his dad who is a respectable accountant. Anyway I digress.
One fateful day my mate decided to go for a bit of a jolly with his then GF a lovley lady called mad Jo and his grandad, cue plenty of drinks and a little drug use (not by his grandad though) around his local area. To cut a long story short he got into many adventures including shagging Jo in a pub toilet then having to kick the door down thinking they were locked in it, being thrown out of Toys'R'Us because Jo was simulating sex with a giant teddy VERY loudly and graphicially and various other fun and games. The evening ended with my mate carrying his grandad on one shoulder and stumbling with Jo home naked as he had sensibly burried all his clothes in the nearby park so the police if they caught him wouldnt know who he was (no wallet no ID you see!). Somehow finding home he chucked his guts up fully in the sink and over the kitchen floor and passed out in his bedroom with Jo after putting his grandad to bed. Que mum and dad giving him a verbal bashing in the morning abut all of this when a neighbour pops round to drop off his clothes from the park where she walks her dog.
Complete with touge lashing from parents and hangover from hell my mate not in the best of ways wanders to the pub to escape only to find his grandad pop in an hour later to say the imortal words "don't worry lad best fun Iv'e had since the war!"
Well suffice it to say he was a black sheep for a while but mum and dad later forgave him and now he is again the golden boy.
Ahh parents aint they great!
(, Tue 18 Jan 2005, 9:46, Reply)
I seem to be the star. My brothers, on the other hand...
My older brother ended up being browbeaten by his first wife into becoming the bagman for a North Shore drug ring and offered up as the sacrificial "mastermind" when that group was busted: he was eventually given a probationary sentence brought about partially, I have always hoped, by my letter to the judge stating that my older brother is so very stupid he could hardly successfully pick his nose (true), much less mastermind a major drug operation. He is an essentially harmless person as long as you do not catch his attention, whereupon he will astonish you with his amazing ability to hold a long conversation without your ever saying a word. I guess being diagnosed as a hyper-manic helps in that regard. I avoid him simply because if I don't, he will start talking and never shut up.

My younger brother is the one to worry about: seven years ago he decided to write very detailed and threatening letters to all of the major old missionary family heads in Hawai'i and their immediate kin, which quickly earned him the ire of those who can very quickly turn paradise into hell with just a few pulled strings or dropped hints. This might have resulted in only a slight embarrassment to mom and myself but he could not stop there, oh no, not by a long shot. In addition to his threatening letters to the extended family were found several missives that directly threatened the life of Chelsea Clinton (yes, that one), thus ensuring that everyone within three branches of the family tree was visited by the men in black suits. Fortunately for me, my only visit took less than an hour but it definitely earned the punk my enmity, which worsened when I was called upon as the person closest to him (hah!) to make a special visit to his cell a couple of years ago for a new offense. After first being committed to an asylum during the trial during which he made a positive recovery with the use of copious quantities of lithium, he decided he no longer needed the chemical crutch and ditched the pills and whatever emotional stability they had lent him during that time. Shortly after that, he learned about a real estate controversy in San Diego centered around some historic bungalow and decided to torch the place as a way of resolving the issue externally. He failed. The next morning, when the camera crews were recording the damage, he returned and with cameras rolling attempted to set fire to the dwelling again. Climbing into his van he then attempted to drive over the reporter and camera crews. I have been notified the footage actually shows the cameraman and reporter dodging the oncoming van while still trying to record the situation: points for dedication to the job but demerits for being stupid cunts and not running for cover, you guys. While he seemed quite pleasant behind the armored glass panel there was a hint of not-quite-there behind the eyes. He seems to be in hiding now which is fine by me: if I never see him again that will be an ideal interval.

It is just a bit depressing to realize that despite having a decidedly sub-par life as far as my close relatives are concerned, I am still the shining star of the family because I have never been arrested or thrown into jail. But only a very little bit.
(, Sun 16 Jan 2005, 11:21, Reply)
My stepmother
My dad had an affair, and ended up marrying the awful attention-seeking alleged "wifebeating victim" who, about a year later when my dad was starting to regret his decision, began to suffer with a string of conveniently undiagnosable syndromes, which means she now has to go round in a spaz chariot. The doctors are baffled and say they can't find anything wrong - we all think she's perfectly able to walk, but he is entirely taken in by this scamster. She frequently has some sort of fit (occurring only when she is not centre of attention). When visiting my grandfather on his deathbed, we were all gently speaking to him, when she deemed it necessary not only to throw a fit, but also to slide out of her wheelchair onto the floor right under his hospital bed. She did it again on the kitchen floor in front of the extended family at his funeral wake, at which point my uncle just stepped over her asking "More wine anyone?". Respect.
(, Sun 16 Jan 2005, 0:51, Reply)
My Aunt Winnie
looks the spitting image of an afro-caribbean Meryl Streep... oh... hang on... sheep...
(, Mon 17 Jan 2005, 14:29, Reply)
Crazy Uncle G.
Uncle G. decided he wanted to reconect with nature by living off the land. latter he was found buy local authorities half starved, naked and chasing after a live eel which was the only food he had managed to catch during the entire experiment.
(, Sun 16 Jan 2005, 12:41, Reply)
Pure Class
My Gran comes from a family of 15, and basically I'm related to half of Swindon. Our most recent black (er) sheep came when my mum's cousin was arrested for 'indecent acts' with a 15 year old boy. His brother, realising that he would get beat up in prison for this, decided he was going to get arrested too; to keep his older bro safe.
Clever, no? After committing some kind of car crime, he got 2 years. And got sent to a different prison.

(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 18:30, Reply)
I'm The Black Sheep In The Village!
Due to marrying a fat,work-shy spoilt local girl. When we divorced (when she'd worked her way through the best part of £200K) the old bunch of "friends" we used to hang out with took her side and shun me. "Unclean! Unclean!"

Still, it has it's compensations. Since we divorced almost all of the rest of the village have welcomed me into their hearts as they couldn't stand the stuck-up bitch. Result!

I remember one conversation I had with my wife.. She was naked,looking in the bathroom mirror. "I'm fat, ugly and my hairs a mess " she wailed. "Give me a compliment"

I looked up - "At least your fucking eyesight's spot on.." I growled....
(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 10:13, Reply)
My Uncle Peter
moved to Zimbabwee about 35 years ago, and we haven't heard from him since. So if anyone knows a Peter Morton aged about 65, born in Belfast but now somewhere in Africa, PLEASE, don't get in touch, as we've spent all his part of my grannies inheritance.
(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 9:50, Reply)
Yes, like others here I believe that I am most likely candidate for Black Sheep of the family.

Unlike others, here's why:

At a large family gathering (to be specific, my Brothers engagement party to his wonderful Fianceé), I opted to start drinking at 10am...

Fast forward to the next morning and I drearily wake with an enormous hangover. Staggering into the kitchen I am greeted with a less than friendly reception from my mysteriously bruised Mother.

I ask if she's ok and she storms off muttering to herself... An hour later and my Brother fills me in on the events of the previous day.

It transpires that people had started to tell my Sister that they were worried that I'd had too much to drink. She in turn came outside to check if I was ok, I tell her I'm fine and she needn't worry, I appreciate her concern and love her.

Strangely - witness attest that I shouted "Fuck off!" and fell over.

I then skipped into the kitchen where I patted my Mother on the shoulder and thank her for laying on such a delicious lunch. Again, this seems to have been misinterpretted by most as they swear I ran in, barged her to the floor and (very, very allegedly) called her a 'cunt'.

Being railroaded out of the house by my Brother, I then ran to the local One Stop where I was discovered by my Brother-In-Law, loudly bemoaning the injustice of my existance and demanding that they let me live in the aisle of tinned goods & biscuits.

Sufficed to say, all & sundry are greatly looking forward to the Wedding... as I am the Best man.
(, Wed 19 Jan 2005, 13:24, Reply)
i think my brother deserves the prize
He started studying for a degree in 2001 for 3 years which my parents funded - paid for his lodging, food, drinks etc...

What they didn't know, and still don't to this day is that he got kicked off the course halfway through the first year.

They are still under the impression that he got a 2/1 in Law and can't work out why he hasn't managed to find a job yet.

He could at least have said he got a first.
(, Sun 16 Jan 2005, 19:41, Reply)
My brother is really the black sheep of society, not just my family. He drives an ice-cream van and plays the music when he's run out of ice cream, he wears headphones and wanks and we leave him cups of tea, and is constantly demanding for us to molest him and tell him where teh uplaod cod3z are.
(, Sun 16 Jan 2005, 18:41, Reply)
Lovely Brother
My lovely brother, got married to a nice girl, had a kid, went out to work every day.

Except that ten minutes later after his wife took the kid to nursery and then went off to work - he came home and sat watching television all day. This went on until all of their money ran out, he then forged his wifes signature and cashed in their endowment mortgage without telling her.

When that money ran out he came to me and borrowed money. Of course everything eventually fell apart and his wife divorced him.

When I eventually saw my brother again he said to me: "None of this would have happened if you'd have lent me more money."

Luckily he hasn't spoken to me since (three years) what a loss...
(, Sat 15 Jan 2005, 17:41, Reply)
my mums ex husband...
lets call him Nigel(because thats his name)... well he was a particularly evil bastard, he'd constantly punish/smack about my three older siblings for literally no reason when they were young and managed to have one of them (and my mum) still talking to him until last year, when he said to them that our mum was a crap parent, and no ones spoken to him since.

when my gran first met my mums next husband (my dad) she said to him "how do i know you're going to a better husband to her than Nigel?" to which my dad replied "well, i have a massive cock"
luckily my mums very forgiving....
(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 18:59, Reply)
I'm an out cast yay!
Me lives in the good ol' Nor'n Ireland, and I's a reluctant cafflick, (don't believe in god, and go to a protestant school), anyways, our old family, the flemings, were big rich protestant landowners, and their son (my great grandpappy) fell in love with a shoeless country cafflick... of course the parents were none too pleased with this, as it was sin or whatever, and so used their wealth to try and persuade him not to marry her, they offered him a luxury cruise, which by today's terms is a million quid, and in return he merely had to stop seeing her... he of course refused and a wee while later I was born... but the interesting thing is the name of the ship that he was offered a cruise on... the S.S. Titanic...

^_^ I like the story anyways...
(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 18:00, Reply)
Not so much black sheep of the family as black member
My cousin has very dark skin and very curly hair. His parents are gingers with fair skin and freckles so is his brother. But no one seems to notice but me......
(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 11:37, Reply)
Bus thief
My auntie (now 75) was a bit of a tearaway in her younger days. One of her antics was to go to Victoria Bus Station drunk with some mates after closing, nick a double decker bus and drive it down to Brighton - in 1947 (God only knows what the Daily Mail would have to say about that if it happened today). Became a single mother in the 1950s (shame! shame!) and her son became extremely successful and famous (though I can't tell you for obvious reasons, but you've heard of him).

Still a good laugh at 75.
(, Mon 17 Jan 2005, 23:38, Reply)
Auntie Kitty
Because she's a slag.
(, Mon 17 Jan 2005, 14:56, Reply)
Im closely related to a certain fuzzy haired, aging rockstar
Who appears on otherwise acceptable comedy quizzes and used to sing an annoying Christmas song.

I dont talk to him since he said "Ya look a bit fat, girl!" to me last Solstice.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2005, 21:09, Reply)
My mom's the black sheep.
And I'm quite ok with that. My redneck racist extended family on my mother's side decided to disown my mother after she married my step-father (a wonderful, decent person), a "halfbreed" (Native American/Caucasian), they never had a problem with my biological father who beat my mother while she was holding newborn me, broke her nose 3 times, and abused every drug he could get his hands on.
So now our little nuclear family is the bit that's not included.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2005, 4:11, Reply)
My dad's crap family
I sometimes make life hell for my dad (I'm 17) I shouldn't really, because he's a really kind and considerate person, and an absolute beacon compared to the rest of my dad's family. Let me tell you about the rest of my dad's family.

My dad was born in Wolverhampton in the 1950s to the landlady of the Wolverhampton Theatre (or maybe just "a theatre" in Wolverhampton, I'm not entirely sure) and the landlord of the local ECC Sports and Social Club, by all accounts an alcoholic racist, but he died before I can remember so I can't really judge him. Dad's mother had an ego the size of Denmark, she was one of those "life is a stage" types and used to act extravagantly at every opportunity. I make her sound like a drag queen but that's not entirely accurate because drag queens have some degree of decadence, whereas Nana just looked ridiculous. She was the result of a wanton girl getting her jollies off the navy in the "Roaring 20s" and no-one knows where the family tan comes from, but I digress. Somewhere in the wilderness of time, Nana saw "the light" and became a spiritualist. To this day you can't move in her house for tarot cards, balls and other assorted pieces of jiggerypokery intended to help one reach "the other side". She left her job, and from then on her income came from turning her house into a halfway house for Z-list celebs playing locally who couldn't be bothered to pay the fees at the W-ton Grand Hotel, sometimes you'd go into her lounge and see Rula Lenska/Paul Shane/The Roly Polies (one of which is my dad's godmother), which was very scary. So much was she enthralled with all this, that she spent 30 years going to hand-holding sessions in Iceland, or dancing around mountain-tops in Arizona wearing a native Red Indian headress (For a while she would only be referred to as "The woman who speaks to the wind"), that she forgot to... er... raise her children. So as you can imagine they became pikeys of the highest order. Luckily my dad flew the nest and joined the army, travelling over the world and I respect him for that decision, however his sister decided to earn a living by marrying as many rich men as possible, and his brother dossed around aimlessly before getting local goats' milk deliverer "Sherie" pregnant and "settling down to a married life", producing the three most pikey kids imaginable (the rich kind, the worst kind) and starting up a dodgy stolen furniture company. While this was happening, my dad was a Sargeant Major in the RAMC, he met my mum who was in the QARANC in Woolwich, and when they got together my "Nana" was horrified to discover that my mum was from a farm in deepest darkest Wales, and on meeting her treated her like some corn-chewing ricketts-riddled gypsy girl with no education. The truth was quite the contrary. Thankfully she got on like a house on fire with my mum's parents which helped them solve their differences. When I was born I became her favourite grandson because I was the only one who took in her spiritual brain-washing clap-trap, unlike the braindead protege of Phil and "Sherie" !! She actually used to make me stay for "decoupage" (mainly of roses, black cats...) weekends!! I tell no lie!! Thank God my mum weaned me off her in time before I started collecting dream catchers and carving passages from "Castle of Otranto" across my chest!!
Still, this side of the family were mildly tolerant and actually quite spirited/well-meaning, UNTIL (YES, THIS IS THE TURNING POINT IN THE STORY)

When my dad left the Army, he decided to work for his brother in the aforementioned "stolen furniture company" and 4 years later despite all attempts from my dad to make it kosher, my dad's brother (the owner) gets a massive fine and a court appearance. This convieniently happens exactly the same time as he was having an affair with unemployed pregnant tart "Jackie" who had 3 kids by 3 different men, and "Sherie" was suing for divorce. Plus his eldest daughter had recently nicked £2000 from him and spent the whole lot on clothes, booze, etc etc. So as you can imagine, my dad's brother was in a tight spot, but he dealt with the situation with tact and levity. He made my dad redundant. Bear in mind that my dad has recently been proven to be the best salesman in the county and at the time was making that company A LOT of profit. Also bear in mind that also working for the comapny was a one-eyed war-scarred dogsbody called "John" who was working whilst on unemployment benefits! Why this waste of space wasn't sacked instead is beyond me!!

You'd think that "Nana" would have supported my dad at this point, but no, in her wisdom she decided to support my uncle entirely in his decision, because he was closest to her (in terms of location, not love) showing just what a conceted evil irrational woman she was. This revived the rift between mum/Nana, this time bigger than it has ever been, and around that time she took the opportunity to show my parents what she really thought of them, by moving away and making the rest of the family swear never to tell where she had gone to. We have not spoken to anyone from that family since January 2000. They could all be dead for all we know.

Freakily enough she still had/has an obsession with me, she stills writes random poems and letters to me, along with ridiculously high amounts of money. That I'm not complaining with :) but what really gets me is that she chooses never to regard her own son and daughter-in-law, her own flesh and blood she just cast aside. I can never respect her after her actions over the years.

Apologies for length.
(, Sat 15 Jan 2005, 1:05, Reply)
Friend's Deliverance bro
Not my family but the big brother of my friend X was spectacularly and inventively violent. They're not close now...

He once tied feathers around nails so he could shoot them from his air pistol. He then called X into his room saying "I want to show you something." X opened the door to see his sibling aiming the air pistol at his head. He quickly shut the door and watched as the point of a nail suddenly appeared through the wood. At eye height.

X still has a scar from the time his brother made a bow and arrow out of wood. He then fashioned points out of bits of copper and went on an X-hunt. This was made easier because X's brother also used to oil the doors in their house so "the wee man can't hear me coming to get him".
(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 15:11, Reply)
I don't think my family has any white sheep
There's the one gran who lived in Iraq for a few years - Saddam actually took her out to dinner once.

Then there's the other one who lived in Paris. She had several husbands, and least one of which topped himself. She called him woofles. Apparently another one was capable of farting the national anthem. I hope that's the one I'm decended from. I can certainly fart pretty well...

Then there's my Mum who as a kid put a garden fork through her sisters foot, my uncle who had to go to hospital with crayons up his nose, my other uncle who wrote a gay environmental book called "world without trees", my aunt who terrified me by sleeping stark naked with no covers and her eyes wide open in the room next to me. My step-father who was a drunk psycho who landed me in care. My Dad who dropped acid with Timothy Leary in the 60's (but don't tell his wife) and paints wierd pictures in Hong Kong.

Yup, I come from fab stock me. Look:

(, Fri 14 Jan 2005, 11:31, Reply)

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