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This is a question Family Feuds

Pooster tells us that a relative was once sent to the shops to buy an onion, while the rest of the family went on a daytrip while he was gone. Meanwhile, whole sections of our extended kin still haven't got over a wedding brawl fifteen years ago – tell us about families at war.

(, Thu 12 Nov 2009, 12:24)
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I haven't spoken to my paternal Gran for nearly 10 years
She lives in Norwich and every summer we would go down and visit her for a couple of weeks. I hated this because the entire time she would criticise, moan and generally act as if she had been put upon by her only son and his family, even though she had invited us down to visit.

When she occasionally visited at Christmas, it was a nightmare and always managed to put my Mam on edge. Thankfully, after causing lots of drama and generaly being a selfish, unpleasant, sack of wrinkly shit one year, my Dad told her that she was no longer welcome to stay with the family. She didn't take that too well to say the least, but still spoke to my Dad.

The real icing on the cake which made me completely cut contact with her was when she insulted me over my upcoming wedding. She called me a waste of space and insisted that the marriage was a joke. Obviously she was not invited as a result.

She tried to get back in touch earlier this year after my Dad suddenly passed away. I made it perfectly clear that I didn't want to know.

Horrible woman.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 15:23, 4 replies)
Caught short
My cousin and aunty now wont speak to me after disgracing myself at my posh cousins 18th birthday party...
They lived in a big house, and arranged a big marquee in the back for dancing and drinking celebrations. Packed full of kids and family...but stupidly only one toilet...upstairs next to the bathroom.
Of course after a few hours on the piss there is a massive line waiting. I was bursting so I dragged my then boyfriend into the bathroom..told him to watch the door...pulled up my dress climbed into the bath and started to pee over the plug hole....
At that point posh aunty starts banging on the door..'whats going on in there? What are you doing?'
I'm begging to said boyfriend...'don't open it, let me pull me knickers up first..hang on hang on'
I Climb out the bath and open the door....
She of course is furious we have clearly been having mad rampant sex in her bathroom......why else would I have to pull my knickers up?
How could I tell her ACTUALLY Aunty I was pissing in your bath...
I decided to take the 'yes we were fucking over the sink' option and promptly left...taking a full bottle of champagne with us...
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 15:22, 2 replies)
There's a bit of graffiti on the bog wall…
…at my local. It says:
"I fucked your mum"
"Piss off home dad, you're drunk"

Thought that might suffice in the absence of any real feuds in my family. (apart from the one with the uncle who robbed me Nan of all rights to her own home, fucked off to La Rochelle on benefits and married a pissed-up Catholic lass)
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 15:19, Reply)
Is anyone else dreading Christmas now?
I know that's a bit off topic, but all these tales of woe have reminded me how much I hate christmas...mostly because it's spoiled by having to deal with family.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 14:15, 9 replies)
A few years ago on holiday
my mum and dad made the whole trip a living hell. My parents are both doctors, but they are so self absorbed. They give off a perception of caring and loving their children, but behind closed doors they are twunts to us all, especially me, being the eldest. No matter how much I cried and cried, they always put themselves first.

It all came to a head for me when one night they fucked off for tapas with their mates and left me and my siblings alone in the hotel.
"Fuck this" I thought, so I left the apartment and a nice north African looking man drove me to the nearest ferry port and lent me the money for a one way ticket. Never to return. They'll never find me.

Signed, Maddy
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 13:41, 1 reply)
Not really a feud, I suppose!
I had an uncle who was a right cunt.
He's dead now!
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 13:37, 1 reply)
Not a feud as such
My family are born again Christians. The tambourine shaking everything in the bible is the undeniable word of god, type of Christians. I, on the other hand, am an atheist. The laughing my ass off at the sceptics annotated bible, bookshelf full of Dawkins, Hitchins, & Sam Harris kind of Atheist . . I don't get in their faces about their ridiculous sky-daddy, iron age myth beliefs but do you think they can leave me the fuck alone? Do they bollocks

Every now and then I have a little dig. Mum was telling some friends about some cartoons of Bible stories for kids "ooh do they do the one when Lot offers his Daughters to the sodomites or how about when God kills all of Job's family to test his faith". She just glared at me. Should have forgiven me really
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 13:37, 3 replies)
Daddy wouldnt buy me a bow-wow

Never forgave the bastard for that
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 13:32, 1 reply)
I already know that this may sound a little farfetched but believe me it is all true and not some Star Wars pun.

I had a fairly nasty feud with my brother (God I hate calling him that).

I am lucky enough to say that I was adopted into a family that were loaded. The old geezer that was my Dad was ok despite having a ridiculous name (Wilton). My guess is he took pity on me as I was a in need a bit of hospital work (Actual medical work needed on my face due to a pretty nasty accident) . Luckily my new dad was loaded and paid for the best work to be done on my features, along with a couple of extra cosmetic enhancements thrown in to the surgery.

Anywhoo after the treatment I was a model son and did whatever my dad wanted, I even changed my name to his family one . Sadly he wasn’t long of this earth and died a while later due to a terminal illness. I was gutted at the loss and carried on my day to day life working for his company.

Then my new brother showed up.

During the time I was in surgery I was told that my new dad already had a son similar age as me and was somewhere abroad. When I finally did get to meet my bro I realised that my Dad had lied to me about a couple of things.

Firstly my bro was abroad, but my dad had failed to mention was that he was in a prison for doing god knows what.

Secondly the cosmetic surgery that my loving dad paid for was to repair my features but the “extra’s” he paid for (Better nose, shape of face etc etc) were to make me look just like his real son.

Third and final point was that my new brother hated me. Lots.

At first I thought he was jealous of petty things like my lifestyle or my motor (It was a pretty flash car if I do say so myself and a reason for anyone to get jealous, but I then found out that he had a similar car as mine, apart from the horrid grey paintjob). I decided that he was just a twat.

Thankfully he ended up dying before series two ended- which is a shame as I loved his goatee- really showed his evil side.

Garth R.I.P

(Drives Pontiac Firebird Trans Am away towards purple tinted skyline)
Apologies for lack of turbo boost
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 13:00, 1 reply)
Family Fueds
Could be the name of a prime-time tv show presented by Vernon Kay.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 12:52, 2 replies)
Me uncle Brian (from me mum's side)
Got half beaten unconcious by my dad once in my back garden. Who'd have thought that turning up uninvited every day for 2 years with a lab/rotweiler who pissed/shit his way around every inch of our garden while Brian made himself at home drinking and eating our food while ordering my mother about and ruling the telly and randomly turning up pissed while shouting at shadows would've pushed one of my dad's buttons?

He's mellowed out alot now, since finally getting laid the old virgin.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 12:18, 3 replies)
Have a pearoast while I contemplate posting my own family tale
This tale involves myself being drunk, and my mate Chris - the target of my merrymaking.

There we were, blokes drinking heavily, sat smoking around the table (as you could in them days) and having much fun. One of my chums goes off for a wee. Jumping at the chance to add extra comical value to the evening I took advantage of his absense by grabbing his phone and texting his dad. It was nothing nasty, just something along the lines of 'I LOVE YOU DAD, MISS YOU LOTS xoxox'

HO HO HO!!! How we laughed. Chris (for that is his name) didn't laugh that much. It turns out (and this is why such pranks can go badly wrong) that he hadn't spoken to or seen his dad for about 4 years following a rather spectacular falling out. Needless to say I felt like a bit of twat, apologised and bought him a pint. He explained what happened (I won't bore you with that bit) and then his phone beepety beeped.

It was his dad.


Chris was a bit stunned and went very quiet and disappeared off the toilet, returning a bit red-eyed.

He had spoken to his dad (in a drunken stupor) and agreed to go round the next day, and he did.

He met his half brother and sister for the 1st time ever, cleared the air with his dad, was Best Man at his wedding and is now in regular contact and they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

Quick Edit: Before this, whenever he spoke of his dad he was actually refering to his stepdad (he lived with his mum still back then) so I thought thats who I was texting.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 12:06, 9 replies)
Blah blah, fucked by my grandmother blah
blah mother never loved me etc etc.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 11:41, 8 replies)
My father's family's fitful fueding was a fundamental feature of my flowering youth
However in this case it was all my ex-wife's (then girlfriend) fault.

Understandably I didn't see much of my father's extended family after my parents divorce. One of his brothers was a fantastic uncle - always fun to be around. Funny guy, could tell a great story and always the life of a party.

By the time I was in my twenties I hadn't seen him in ten years at least. A cousin I'd kept in contact with let me know that there was a big birthday bash happening for my aunt and I decided to attend, and take my missus along.

They lived a couple of hour's drive away, so we carpooled down with my cousin and her fella. It's important to note here that both said uncle and girlfriend were big drinkers. The more he drank the funnier he became. She just got loopier. She did have her good points - two in fact. She looked like a living barbie doll - blonde, maybe 50kg and tits you could loose yourself in.

Our mistake was to turn up at dusk. By this stage the party had been in full swing since lunchtime and most people, including my uncle, were well lubricated. Things didn't get off to an auspicious start when I introduced the ex to a clearly impressed uncle. He gave me a bear hug and her a motorboating before knocking the froth off another tinnie.

I spent the next few hours trying to reassure the poor girl that he was always this friendly while we both set about making a sizable dent in the free booze he had provided. He'd even conjured up a Spanish exchange student to man the kitchen and dish out the drinks. Nice young guy, which probably why my uncle's 15 year old daughter and all her mates were hanging around too and flirting in that way that only 15 year olds can do - badly.

At some point my wife-to-be decided that some or all of these vixens wanted my - clearly pissed - body. She retaliated by starting a fight. I'd retreated to the front lawn for a tactical vomit but we were soon asked to leave.

The saddest part of this story wasn't the fact that the next day I had to clean yet more of my vomit from my cousin's car, but that I never saw that uncle again while I continued in a relationship with that girl. She even refused to have him to our wedding.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 11:36, Reply)
my gran
Used to scare me witless and so I refused to see her for years.

She was a staunch protestant teetotaller who told the seven year old me that I was going to "burn in the fires of hell", that my mother's maiden language was "evil", and once in a fit of senility mistook me for her long dead husband and tried to have sexy time with me in a darkened corner of the house.

I got her back once though by convincing her a sheep dropping was a chocolate covered raisin.

Small things, eh.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 11:22, 5 replies)
Ever since he stole my Renault Clio.
I haven't see my Papa :-(

(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 11:15, 1 reply)
You can't pick your relatives....
My mum and dad were a funny couple. They plainly weren't happy - when I was 14 I caught my dad pinning my mum in the corner of the hallway after hearing some shouting. I punched him in the face and knocked him down and he retreated. Other than that there were a few rows, but they kept whatever it was that was causing them to dislike each other away from me.
Happy joy.

So, one day after 32 years (I'm 26 and left home at this point), my dad wakes my mum with a kiss her on the cheek whilst she lays in bed one saturday morning and tells her he is going out for a newspaper.
She comes downstairs later to a note on the table saying he's left. Turned out for another woman, who is now my step mother - though a more miserable bitch you couldn't find in all of christendom (their rows have included her trying to stab him, him getting arrested and me having to visit him at the police station, and him trying to hang himself). Except for my mum when my dad was still at home of course. Out of the frying pan into the fire for him.

A couple of years later I get married (now trying to divorce). I invite both of them to my wedding, not knowing what else to do, thinking - stupidly - that if they can't handle seeing the other one after all this time they'll just decline to come and wish me a happy day. Oh no - that would be too grown up.
I am promptly disowned by my mum for three years, because she thinks I should have banned my dad from the wedding.

She's disowned my twice again in the years since for various "slights" which basically boil down to not taking her side with my dad - but what she fails to understand is that as a sensible adult, I am not taking anyone's side. I grew out of that in primary school. I let 'em get on with it - they're both my parents and as bad as each other. I am going to be disowned by my dad this time around, as the fiance and I are planning a wedding in a couple of years that I have asked him to stay home with his new family (who don't want to know me at any other time) and let my mum attend this time. He is determined that he should go and she should not - again, and if this is not what happens, "that's it for me and you" to use his words. Perhaps we should just elope.

Families. I could go on and on as this isn't even the edited highlights really - I am also persona non grata with the whole of my mum's side of the family for said slights where I allegedly side with my dad. Shit 'em. No wonder I don't have any kids.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 11:14, 4 replies)
Aunty Raquel
My mum won't talk to her because she thinks she's a slag and it's all my fault...

Mum and my step-dad weren't getting on; she only stayed with him because of my little brother. They had moved up to Northumberland some time ago but both had spent most of their lives in Hertfordshire where I still lived. Ever more frequently, he kept inviting himself to stay at mine so that he could visit friends and family. I didn't really have much say in this given that he owned the house I was living in and I didn't pay any rent.

He went out most evenings, usually to have a meal with the aforementioned friends and family, sometimes he'd go to visit one of my mum's sisters, Raquel or Doris.

One time when he was down, my mum was having a poke around in his stuff and found a half-empty box of Viagra. He wasn't getting it on with mum but he had to be getting it somewhere.

Mum was on the phone to me, did I know what he was up to? No I didn't but she went on and on about it so just to be helpful, I suggested that maybe he was doing the deed with Aunty Raquel. This had a ring of truth about it, Raquel had a bit of a reputation, and she had once offered herself to Doris' oldest, allegedly. Pure speculation on my part though, just because he said he'd been to Raquel's for a meal, admittedly several times, he may have been lying. He could have been with an old flame, a prostitute, who knows.

Mum was convinced. I had suddenly become judge, jury and executioner. Raquel was the guilty party. A phone call to Doris confirmed her suspicion: Raquel is a slag.

Neither mum nor Doris has spoken to Raquel since, getting on for 15 years later.

Bloody awkward at family dos.

(Names changed just in case any of my family read this)
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 11:09, 3 replies)
My family and the sex offender!
When I was divorcing the former Mr Quar my large extended family were nicer to him than ever, having him round for tea, inviting him to weddings, etc.

I couldn't go anywhere without seeing his ugly mug and found it all most hurtful.

Eventually I decided to leave them to it and stopped bothering with the family altogether. This went on for a few months until the family realised that a. they were stuck with the ex, who'd foist himself randomly on them for meals and b. nobody'd seen me for a while.

The ex was given his marching orders and things were smoothed over.


A couple of years later the ex was sent down for 2 years for kiddy-fiddling.
Ah, the hours he'd spent, trusted, in the bosom of my family. I bet they wish they'd kept their noses out now!
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 10:49, 2 replies)
I can see this being yet another cheerful QOTW.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 10:31, 4 replies)
My mother was such a witch
that when I have kids I am going to be an amazing parent. Fact. Not getting to the conception bit yet though but I am enjoying practising that as often as possible!
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 10:30, Reply)
I haven't spoken to my father in 10 years
I'm Helen Keller.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 9:58, 3 replies)
I haven't spoken sensibly to my father in 10 years.
Daft bastard.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 9:56, Reply)
I haven't spoken to my father
in ten years. Dead bastard.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 9:49, Reply)
Someone must've done it already
I was at the feeding of multitude. The catering was a bit ad hoc, but all in all it was quite successful Except the fish was a bit tough and chewy and the bread was stale.

Damn these firm holy-foods.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 9:29, 2 replies)
I haven't spoken to my father

He fucked off back to his wife when I was a baby.

All true plus he'd convieniently neglected to mention that he was married until after my mother bore him a son.

Sounds like a bit of a cunt.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 8:58, Reply)
I haven't spoken to my father
in ten years. Deaf bastard.
(, Fri 13 Nov 2009, 7:49, Reply)

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