Pity me!
My boyfriend's Mother... as my boyfriend reads b3ta so to respect his anonymity I shall refer the old hag as S.O.W. – Senile Old Woman. Oh where do I begin?

1 – When my boyfriend first introduced me to S.O.W. he told her how we met in a local nightclub. She then proceeds to tell us in great detail how she had a night out in the same nightclub, had pulled some bloke (a truck driver) although she didn't remember his name, took him back to her place and gave him a blow job. She then rubs salt into my boyfriend's wounds by also informing him that this truck driver was several years younger then him. Thankfully that poor truck driver had the sense to sober up and run away.

2 – S.O.W. proudly broadcasts to me and my boyfriend how his youngest sister had "really big tits" because she was pregnant. This left my boyfriend traumatized for several months afterwards. My skin is crawling as I am 38 ½ weeks pregnant – I really do not want to know what S.O.W. has been saying behind my back.

3 – S.O.W. was out shopping with her eldest son who is 40+ and single. She then proceeds to ask random members of public where the nearest porn shop is so that her darling son could add to his growing porn collection. Nice one S.O.W.!

4 – S.O.W. likes to inform the family (those who are still on speaking terms with her) when her pet rat-like Yorkshire terrier is on heat.

5 – S.O.W. likes to give in depth lectures about her ailments and bodily functions. As she is a hypochondriac these discussions are quite longwinded and growing ever more inventive (I’m still puzzled how a woman can have troubles with her prostate gland although the amount of steroid injections this woman has claimed to have had might be the answer).

6 – S.O.W.’s tales of her childhood woes are enough to make me reach for a bucked to puke in. The story of “the day daddy killed my pet rabbit, cooked it and fed it to the family” is such an endearing one – one that I have had to listen to for too many times. There are other stories much worse than this one… but that would be too much information (excuse the apparent pun, it wasn’t intended).

S.O.W.’s legacy lives on through her deranged children. My boyfriend and his brothers have lengthy telephone conversations with each other about their stools. Bliss!

Despite his coyness around members of the general public, my boyfriend’s eldest brother brags to his other brothers about what is in his porn collection and how much he spends on it. He has even let me on his dirty little secret that 90% of the “regular” DVDs that he buys are solely bought because one or more of the female stars are either naked or in some sort of lesbian clinch. Thank you!

My boyfriend was kindly informed by his other brother that his wife’s mimsy is like a bucket of giblets. Such information was deemed important enough to pass on to me, like his hemorrhoids, details of his anal probing with an endoscope (I feel sorry for his doctor) and even his pet name for his wife - “My Little Suction Pump”.

And now for my own family...

My cousin “L” text me whilst she was having sex in the back of her boyfriend’s (now ex’s) van just to tell me she was getting laid which was not only TMI but also very sad for someone who was 20+ at the time.

My own mother ratted out my cousin “K” for buying a Rampant Rabbit whilst they were on a family shopping trip with my aunt… although my mother (prim, proper and pure) did not venture into the shop… she claims. “K” was actually quite cool about such relevations about her sex life, much to the disappointment of my mother.

My mother (yet again) ratted out my cousin “M” was not sure who the father of her child was – it could have been some van driver or a milkman (I kid you not!). It seems that my cousin has hedged her bets with the milkman.

Being told by my mother that my little brother has been spending a suspiciously long time in the toilet, groaning and mumbling some crazy weird stuff has completely warped my fragile little mind. She did not have to say it for it to be too much information and I’m still sure that she is either naïve or in denial… that’s my little brother! Eww!

EDIT: One last thing to share with you all... Sometimes words are not needed to convey TMI. I heard every grunt and groan of my mother and step-father through my bedroom wall as they were working on conceiving my little brother. I was only 15 at the time and the pillow over my head could not drown out the sounds.
( Templeton Blah, blah, blah..., Sun 9 Sep 2007, 21:05, Reply)