» Crazy Relatives

My Grandmother Hates Everyone. It's What She Does.
My grandmother has been jaded in terms of any family member getting into a relationship for quite a while. I'd say she gave up in terms of finding a partner in her 30s and is getting close to 70 as I type. She has jet black hair, with a pale and cold face that reminds people of winter. She always sits with her legs akimbo, her immense stomach pulled through this gap by gravity, to the extent that her elbows always dig into her knees as a type of support to keep herself from falling forwards. Anyway, she was very upset to be losing her "little boy to a money-grabbing whore" and was especially frightened after I remarked I'd end up living near New York to be with my charming other half.

"New York? Oh no! You'd better be careful there!"
"Oh no? Why not, Nan?"
"Because of the crocodiles!"
"The crocodiles?"
"Yes! There's an alleyway in New York somewhere, where crocodiles come out of the manholes and drag people down to the sewers and eat them. Crocodile Alley, it's called."

Cue a conversation for a good ten minutes about how New York wouldn't be such a thriving tourist destination if the average tourist had a chance of death by alligator, and her eventual admission that she was watching the news, may have drifted off, and may have woke up near the end of a film with a crocodile, and may have linked the two clips together.

Thankfully, I didn't get crocoraped and moved out towards Washington state, which is one of the more northwest states. Right next to Canada, in fact.

"Ooh! Canada! Oh no! Watch out there!"
"Why's that, nan?"
"Because of the students!"
"The students. Why are they so bad?"
"I watched a documentary and every student in Canada is gay or lesbian!"
"Okay. And this makes it a bad place?"
"Yes! How are you going to find male friends in Canada when they get you drunk and want to grab onto your winky?"

Cue a ten minute conversation about the evil student men who love to grab winkies and jerk off people anywhere they can get away with it.

"They don't try it in America because they've got guns."

Nan swears to her grave that the documentary told her that students can work themselves gay.

She also had a game which she'd play when she wanted me to go over the road and get her some shopping. She'd give me five pounds if I'd pick up something she hadn't put on her shopping list, so long as she liked my choice. I essentially had to make an impulse purchase for her to gain extra pocket money for myself. Sometimes she'd tell me she hated my offering, but would play a double-or-nothing round and invite me to go back and buy what she really wanted. These items were typically things she didn't want at all, she just wanted to embarrass me. A test of my bravery and/or my greed; my true colours.

It still haunts me that I was so desperate for money that the first time I bought condoms, aged a tender 14, I didn't use them. The conversation led into me explaining to the friendly shopkeep that these condoms were not for me, but for my withering grandmother instead. The ten pounds was spent well before the ridicule slowed down.

I've got to be grateful that she taught me that money wasn't everything, at least.

I'd apologise for the length, but if you've got it, flaunt it.
(Mon 9th Jul 2007, 11:41, More)

» Crazy Relatives

If You Can't Beat Them, Leave Them In Blackpool.
My sister disliked me so much for being the new kid on the block, because I was an irresistibly cute ickle brother, stealing her mantle of most loved kid in the family with my bug-eyed charm. She suffered from a bout of temporary insanity and wanted rid of me at the earliest opportunity.

So there I was, with my little chubby face, sitting next to my sister in the back of the car, just about to doze asleep after a nice bottle of milk and an afternoon of happy gurgling, which made the family 'aww' like the easily-pleased fools they were.

We're parked at a set of traffic lights, we're waiting for the lights to turn green so we can head home after a wonderful day at the beach.

The light turns amber and my sister unfastens my seatbelt, opens the car door and pushes me out. I don't know how she rehearsed it, but the timing was perfect, the sounds of the deed were masked by the car's engine, which was wheezing itself into motion. I bounced out of the car and landed by the side of the road, my eyes wide as the moon, watching with a look of confusion as the car begins to pull away. If she hadn't shut the car door so loudly, she might have gotten away with it.

The grazed knee I obtained from the fall wrecked an otherwise wonderful 21st birthday.

(I was actually 2, but if a joke cliché's there, you've got to take it.)
(Tue 10th Jul 2007, 10:48, More)

» Insults

And With The Subtlety Of A Brick, It Ends For Now.
The person sitting next to me at a local bar, slurred something like this to a rather whorish beast who wanted to drag any man back home to her place for a "night of fun"; he was the latest target after annoying a few other people: "You're a crazy motherfucking monstercuntbox slut."

The bar went silent as he continued.

"Your pussy's so loose, if I tried to fuck you I might find your ex stuck in there trying to get out."

Drunk genius.
(Sat 6th Oct 2007, 13:23, More)

» Insults

The Pointless Little Insults
Calling anyone of a questionably chavvish nature a "phlegmy gobshite" works wonders.

I like getting away with using "proliferous strumpet", whooshes over the heads of American ladies too often.

One Anglophile of an American enjoys using "Cunty McFuckface" and "Fucksocks". Her best friend has the distinction of mixing his curses incorrectly, calling something in a video game a "mother-box". That one's caught on now around the household as a result.

Most pointless insult that upsets this heathen household is calling someone a "televangelist".
(Sat 6th Oct 2007, 23:01, More)

» Insults

"You've got a reek radius like a nuclear fallout. Cockroaches curl up and die when meeting you."
COLIN AND THE FOUL COLON:

I sent everyone in our workplace an essay-long email, chock full with mock science, explaining how someone in our store, if provoked, would smell so badly that they had "a reek radius like a nuclear fallout". I explained in depth (with a mathematical equation hypothesised to estimate his stinkiness, "Rivers' Law of Dynamic Funkiness") how the factors of temperature, humidity, his stress level, the length of time since he showered and since he ate determined the radius of stench around his sweaty and porcine body, and how people could become deformed/burned to a crisp by his radioactive stink, if exposed for too long. He'd always eat PukkaPies on his break, and so anything that stank in that store became known as a "PukkaPong", inspired by the aforementioned chunky monkey.
(Sat 6th Oct 2007, 10:21, More)