Of Canberra, mushrooms, spiders and completely nutty aunts.
At the tender age of 11, it was announced that my aunt decided to offer my sisters (aged 13 and 9 at the time) and I a holiday, a week with her at her house in Canberra.
Before I go on, I must say this: Canberra may be the capitol of Australia, but it's also the arse-end of the country. Sure, you can buy fireworks and find an adult store on every block, but these features are overshadowed by the abundance of round-abouts, the fact that everything seemed to close at 5pm, the lack of ANY children... Oh, and a hoarde of politicians.
Anyway, my sisters and I endured a 8 hour coach-trip with no airconditioning to be greeted by the aunt, who happened to come bearing gifts of cold drinks and little presents.
"Cool!", we thought. Oh how wrong we were.
My aunt, although having had two children, has never looked after kids in her life. We were in for a good one, weren't we?
The most memorable part of the holiday was when my aunt decided to take us mushroom picking (the suggestion crowded with comments like "I used to do this when I was your age, in Poland!" and "I'd be so happy if I could share this with you").
Off we went.

For the record, it was after she suggested it that I mentioned I hate mushrooms. Hatehatehatehate them. She said it was fine, I could still have the experience. Keep this in mind.

We drove out to some picturesque forest to begin gathering the little lumps of fungus which I despise so much. All was going well until I walked into a huge spider web.

I hate spiders. Almost as much as I hate mushrooms. Being 11, I screamed like a little girl (what a surprise) and told my aunt I wasn't going to pick any because I was scared. After being told off for this, I was allowed to wait in the car.
I can handle that.

We got back to my aunt's house where she began to cook aforementioned mushrooms. Frying them in butter, in fact. The smell makes me gag at the best of times, and when my aunt heard this, I was told off for being rude. Not too bad.
Then she dished up ALL the mushrooms onto one plate and told me to eat them all, because I'd been rude.
"I don't like mushrooms!" I wailed.
"I don't care!", she replied.
Mushrooms were shovelled down my throat, and I was then sent to bed for being naughty.
I started feeling nauseous while in bed and clutched my stomach, looking up to the ceiling. Hm, how interesting. Neon coloured spiders were dancing across the walls and ceiling. I wasn't sure whether to be amused or scared, but I really didn't have time to think.

Why?
I was then violently ill.

Yes, folks. My aunt had force-fed me poisonous and hallucinagenic mushrooms. It gets better though. The mushrooms had recently been sprayed with various poisons to get rid of them.
Gives you an idea of just how violently ill I was.
But to top it all off, I was then told off for being so rude as to be ill on my aunt's nice clean floor.

The bitch.


Length? Projectile!
(is0lati0n, Fri 3 Aug 2007, 4:42, Reply)