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Diahorrea on the stairs
My Irish ex-girlfriend came from a very troubled and large family. I use the word family loosely because the mother had previously left home for another woman and two of the sons had gone to be with their gay lovers, leaving a dysfunctional family with an alcoholic dad and one of the two remaining sons with special needs.It's years later and I am shacked up with Liz, one of the offspring from this family and she gets a call from her special needs brother. He's served his time for manslaughter and is a free man now and needs a place to stay for a few weeks. He's a big chap Sean, and he carries with him a heavy smell. As with all 'special needs' people, I try to gauge just how 'special' he is over a few beers with him and learn that while he was in prison he saw a kiddy fiddler murdered and then he tells me the screws used to drug him and bugger him sometimes in the afternoons. He sleeps every night on the lounge floor and every morning I have to step over his huge snoring bulk just to leave the small house for work. It was one such morning and my girlfriend's son comes bounding down the stairs ready to have his breakfast when he suddenly stops and exclaims "euuurrrggh" and pointing to a stair, brings my attention to a palm sized splodge of what is quite obviously diahorrea. The commotion brought his mother downstairs where she did a check and confirmed that it was diahorrea. At this time Sean himself awoke to see his sister scrubbing his shit off the stairs, he scratched his head and mumbled something but I don't know what. My other housemate there was another of the brothers who had a compulsive disorder and wanted to wash his hands every ten minutes, but living with his shitty brother I can sympathise.
(Fri 27th Feb 2009, 10:49, More)