usvi-on-line
The Festivus Thread
X I know how you feel...They aren't your "children" so they don't count.
Oh, I forgot this about my mother's husband....and brace yourselves.....
He and my mom were at my brother's that Christmas with the toy throwing episode....Apparently in the middle of the night he had to pee. So being the fat lazy slug that he is he didn't want to walk downstairs so he peed out the window onto the roof and it froze and my sister-in-law saw it. She went ballistic! He's done so much crap I could write a book...
Oh, I forgot this about my mother's husband....and brace yourselves.....
He and my mom were at my brother's that Christmas with the toy throwing episode....Apparently in the middle of the night he had to pee. So being the fat lazy slug that he is he didn't want to walk downstairs so he peed out the window onto the roof and it froze and my sister-in-law saw it. She went ballistic! He's done so much crap I could write a book...
LIES LIES LIES .. this person DOES NOT exist!bevm wrote:Oh, I forgot this about my mother's husband....and brace yourselves.....
He and my mom were at my brother's that Christmas with the toy throwing episode....Apparently in the middle of the night he had to pee. So being the fat lazy slug that he is he didn't want to walk downstairs so he peed out the window onto the roof and it froze and my sister-in-law saw it. She went ballistic! He's done so much crap I could write a book...
We have a new leader in the clubhouse. I'm now gonna delve into my repressed memories and try to top it.bevm wrote: So being the fat lazy slug that he is he didn't want to walk downstairs so he peed out the window onto the roof and it froze and my sister-in-law saw it. She went ballistic! He's done so much crap I could write a book...
PA Girl...you're also on the clock
As posted elsewhere...this was written as a result of the trip we all made last weekend to Williamsburg VA to "celebrate" my father's 60th birthday. I suspect many of you have already read this in one place or another.
This group is IMPOSSIBLE to move. You cannot get them all moving in the same direction at once. There are too many loose ends to the family to ever be able to develop and execute a plan.
For example:
My mother has the attention span of a dim-witted sea cucumber. Whenever we’re about to leave to do something she invariably decides that she needs to do something inane. Usually, when at home, this includes a ladder or weed pulling. I can’t tell you how many times we were about to go home from a Sunday dinner when she squawks “Oh…I need you to go on the roof and clean that spot I can’t reach on the window that’s 30 feet up in the air and faces the backyard” This ALWAYS leads to a reset of the Rage-o-Meter. The bottom line is that she CANNOT focus enough to put on shoes and leave the house.
My father, as noted, becomes pissed off…irrationally so. He will often just stand in a doorway, in his coat, purposely giving himself heat stroke seemingly to prove a point that it WAS time to leave 4 hours ago and he was going to damn well prove it by standing in a coat and sweating.
My brother doesn’t want to do anything. His plan for any weekend is to sit on a couch, drink bourbon and eat roasted meat. The fact that he had been asked to move his weekend 130 miles to the south was bad enough. Never ask him for a suggestion about what we should do. If it’s not “sit right here and drink bourbon” you won’t get an answer.
SIL: She’s still new so we could forgive her. We won’t. She has 2 major flaws: Minutiae and a lack of immunity to my mother.
Minutiae: She needs details about everything. But, they’re never useful details. She gets bogged down in the details that not even I could care about. This causes a delay. She’s also always picking out things to wear based on where we’re going. In the end, it’s always the same outfit anyway: hooded sweatshirt.
Lack of immunity: Guess who’s the first one to grab that ladder or garden trowel? She permits herself to get involved in whatever inane task has been suggested.
JewelrySlut: All she wants to do is drink. She never cares what we do and usually just wants it to be over with so she can go hide in a wineglass. She’s saddled with 3 children and would be so much happier were they all in the care of a sitter.
Shmuppie: The child can go all day without eating or crapping, but tell her that we’re about to leave and, suddenly she’s famished and ready to burst. Trips are delayed because Grammy decided that what the child needs to eat is not an apple but a tray of homemade macaroni and cheese. “It only takes 35 minutes to bake”, comes the reply from the kitchen; the voice shrill enough to curl a parrot’s toes.
(Did I mention that my father is still in his coat and is sweating?)
Moo: She’s 16 months old. Therefore, she has a schedule of feeding and sleeping that should NOT be trifled with. But, this always happens and she ends up screaming.
And, lastly, me: I like to think of myself as the Expedition Leader. In reality, I’m a jackass in a pith helmet leading the family to certain doom. I always have plans…plans that are never carried out properly. For some reason, I still hold us all up to some familial ideal that we will never achieve. For this reason, I say things like “Let’s all go somewhere for the weekend” or “It’s not so bad, we can all manage to get there on time”. I’m a fool. I usually just end up leaving and going to the car. I sit there and mutter to myself that the rest of them are all jerks and don’t deserve the planning I do. Usually after an hour of this, I head back inside and find my father still in his coat, my brother on the couch, Shmuppie eating (while sitting on the toilet), my mother holding a paint roller, SIL holding up 2 nearly identical hooded sweatshirts because she can’t decide which one to wear, Moo hanging from a ceiling fan and JewelrySlut weeping.
I think this is where I’m supposed to turn to the camera and say “I know they all make me crazy, but they’re family and I love them all”.
Supposed to.
PS: While the aforementioned SIL was trying to insult me again by commenting that I was bald, I added "Well..at least my tits are real"
This group is IMPOSSIBLE to move. You cannot get them all moving in the same direction at once. There are too many loose ends to the family to ever be able to develop and execute a plan.
For example:
My mother has the attention span of a dim-witted sea cucumber. Whenever we’re about to leave to do something she invariably decides that she needs to do something inane. Usually, when at home, this includes a ladder or weed pulling. I can’t tell you how many times we were about to go home from a Sunday dinner when she squawks “Oh…I need you to go on the roof and clean that spot I can’t reach on the window that’s 30 feet up in the air and faces the backyard” This ALWAYS leads to a reset of the Rage-o-Meter. The bottom line is that she CANNOT focus enough to put on shoes and leave the house.
My father, as noted, becomes pissed off…irrationally so. He will often just stand in a doorway, in his coat, purposely giving himself heat stroke seemingly to prove a point that it WAS time to leave 4 hours ago and he was going to damn well prove it by standing in a coat and sweating.
My brother doesn’t want to do anything. His plan for any weekend is to sit on a couch, drink bourbon and eat roasted meat. The fact that he had been asked to move his weekend 130 miles to the south was bad enough. Never ask him for a suggestion about what we should do. If it’s not “sit right here and drink bourbon” you won’t get an answer.
SIL: She’s still new so we could forgive her. We won’t. She has 2 major flaws: Minutiae and a lack of immunity to my mother.
Minutiae: She needs details about everything. But, they’re never useful details. She gets bogged down in the details that not even I could care about. This causes a delay. She’s also always picking out things to wear based on where we’re going. In the end, it’s always the same outfit anyway: hooded sweatshirt.
Lack of immunity: Guess who’s the first one to grab that ladder or garden trowel? She permits herself to get involved in whatever inane task has been suggested.
JewelrySlut: All she wants to do is drink. She never cares what we do and usually just wants it to be over with so she can go hide in a wineglass. She’s saddled with 3 children and would be so much happier were they all in the care of a sitter.
Shmuppie: The child can go all day without eating or crapping, but tell her that we’re about to leave and, suddenly she’s famished and ready to burst. Trips are delayed because Grammy decided that what the child needs to eat is not an apple but a tray of homemade macaroni and cheese. “It only takes 35 minutes to bake”, comes the reply from the kitchen; the voice shrill enough to curl a parrot’s toes.
(Did I mention that my father is still in his coat and is sweating?)
Moo: She’s 16 months old. Therefore, she has a schedule of feeding and sleeping that should NOT be trifled with. But, this always happens and she ends up screaming.
And, lastly, me: I like to think of myself as the Expedition Leader. In reality, I’m a jackass in a pith helmet leading the family to certain doom. I always have plans…plans that are never carried out properly. For some reason, I still hold us all up to some familial ideal that we will never achieve. For this reason, I say things like “Let’s all go somewhere for the weekend” or “It’s not so bad, we can all manage to get there on time”. I’m a fool. I usually just end up leaving and going to the car. I sit there and mutter to myself that the rest of them are all jerks and don’t deserve the planning I do. Usually after an hour of this, I head back inside and find my father still in his coat, my brother on the couch, Shmuppie eating (while sitting on the toilet), my mother holding a paint roller, SIL holding up 2 nearly identical hooded sweatshirts because she can’t decide which one to wear, Moo hanging from a ceiling fan and JewelrySlut weeping.
I think this is where I’m supposed to turn to the camera and say “I know they all make me crazy, but they’re family and I love them all”.
Supposed to.
PS: While the aforementioned SIL was trying to insult me again by commenting that I was bald, I added "Well..at least my tits are real"
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chicagoans
- Posts: 1586
- Joined: Thu Jan 18, 2007 2:51 pm
- Location: IL
Ok, this is hitting a nerve. You have reminded me of my MIL (may she rest in peace and I do miss her) who affectionately called me "fatty" during my pregnancy.
This is the same lady who chose to dye her hair in the bathroom while visiting our brand new house. This was the same trip when she let the baby play with her purse (and lipstick) on our brand new white comforter in the guest room.
This is the same lady who chose to dye her hair in the bathroom while visiting our brand new house. This was the same trip when she let the baby play with her purse (and lipstick) on our brand new white comforter in the guest room.
"Sponges grow in the ocean...I wonder how much deeper it would be if that didn't happen."
Bev - at least he openned the window......what does your mom have to say about all of this?
My husband lived with his grandfather when he was growing up. Pappy liked the booze juice. He and all his fellow widower friends would spend their nights at the VFW, Legion or fire company drinking and gambling.
Anyway, one night he comes home after a solid shift on the bar stool and falls asleep on the sofa. After a couple of hours, he wakes up because he needs to pee. He gets up off the couch and stumbles around, waking my husband up in the process.
Pappy thinks he made it to the bathroom but in reality, he was peeing into the HVAC return vent. The pee splashes back out of the metal vent onto his feet and he yells "the G.D. toilet is leaking!" He thought the pee landing on his feet was the water overflowing the bowl. My husband said he burst out laughing, which brought Pap into his senses.
So as my husband progressed into his teen years and all the trouble that comes with that, he comeback to his Pap whenever he got in trouble was "at least I don't get so drunk I piss in the vent!"
My husband lived with his grandfather when he was growing up. Pappy liked the booze juice. He and all his fellow widower friends would spend their nights at the VFW, Legion or fire company drinking and gambling.
Anyway, one night he comes home after a solid shift on the bar stool and falls asleep on the sofa. After a couple of hours, he wakes up because he needs to pee. He gets up off the couch and stumbles around, waking my husband up in the process.
Pappy thinks he made it to the bathroom but in reality, he was peeing into the HVAC return vent. The pee splashes back out of the metal vent onto his feet and he yells "the G.D. toilet is leaking!" He thought the pee landing on his feet was the water overflowing the bowl. My husband said he burst out laughing, which brought Pap into his senses.
So as my husband progressed into his teen years and all the trouble that comes with that, he comeback to his Pap whenever he got in trouble was "at least I don't get so drunk I piss in the vent!"
OMG, honestly this is all priceless. Pipanale is like a straight, married with children version of David Sedaris. But the combined rest of the stories make this thread my absolute favorite ever, ever.
I thank you one and all for confronting your demons so I can ignore mine just a little bit longer. I'll share just one and it isn't holiday related. My SIL, one nasty person and one of the most obnoxious women I had ever known until I met some of your relatives on this thread just left her husband and 4 children...just left them, bought a condo for herself and quit her job to persue her, news to us, life long dream of becoming a female body builder. She's 50.
Given the competitive nature of the thread should I invite dueling midlife crisis stories or should that be a thread of its own?
I thank you one and all for confronting your demons so I can ignore mine just a little bit longer. I'll share just one and it isn't holiday related. My SIL, one nasty person and one of the most obnoxious women I had ever known until I met some of your relatives on this thread just left her husband and 4 children...just left them, bought a condo for herself and quit her job to persue her, news to us, life long dream of becoming a female body builder. She's 50.
Given the competitive nature of the thread should I invite dueling midlife crisis stories or should that be a thread of its own?
Last edited by Agent99 on Thu Dec 16, 2010 6:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Trip report 2009
http://www.virgin-islands-on-line.com/f ... highlight=
Trip report 2008
So good, so good, so good!
http://www.virgin-islands-on-line.com/f ... highlight=
http://www.virgin-islands-on-line.com/f ... highlight=
Trip report 2008
So good, so good, so good!
http://www.virgin-islands-on-line.com/f ... highlight=
HA!!! i can TOTALLY relate--my inlaws (who i honestly love--but are totally nutty) EVERY YEAR the card is dog themed (but they are cute--my FIL draws them)--djmom wrote:I really don't care, but I just got a Christmas card from my parents with a photo of who? The grandchildren? No, the dog. Just thought that was timely.
oh, i didn't tell you FIL is/was a war of 1812 and napoleanic wars re-enactor: my husband said if he ever writes an autobiography it will begin like this:
" i was well into my 20's when i realized my parents were insane. Mother went to the dogs and Dad retreated into history......"
I can only imagine what ourkids will write about us when te time comes
< leaving on the 22nd of march...but too lame to figure out the ticker thing again!>
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California Girl
Pip,
Holidays, Family and NO ALCOHOL???..."Bless your Heart"....I feel your pain... In Southern that means WTF were you thinking?....you need to get some Egg and some Nog to help your problem..it will coat your stomach..Guess what? I have a midget story of my own...mine is not as colorful as yours but it does involve sunken jeeps, boats, momma midgets and wreckers...
Sorry to hear about your family troubles...but guess what?... the south has more disfunctionality than the law allows.... and the holidays are like the 4th of July.... bring it on!....case in point... here is why we don't celebrate the holidays with "the other half who llive across the river"...
"How do you get thrown out of a Red Neck Hunting Club?"
Well a good start is when you are all sitting around the campfire at the end of the day... rubbing "yo guns" and all of a sudden a deer runs by and you have had enough PBR to raise yo gun up and blast away.....
Fortunately the deer got away...the bad news is that my stupid ass BIL blasted the back of own his pick-up and killed his own dogs,..... In the truck!....now that I think of it those dogs got out of a bad situation pretty easy...how FUBAR is that?... "How to get black-balled out of this "MENSA" Hunting club... Priceless...
Holidays, Family and NO ALCOHOL???..."Bless your Heart"....I feel your pain... In Southern that means WTF were you thinking?....you need to get some Egg and some Nog to help your problem..it will coat your stomach..Guess what? I have a midget story of my own...mine is not as colorful as yours but it does involve sunken jeeps, boats, momma midgets and wreckers...
Sorry to hear about your family troubles...but guess what?... the south has more disfunctionality than the law allows.... and the holidays are like the 4th of July.... bring it on!....case in point... here is why we don't celebrate the holidays with "the other half who llive across the river"...
"How do you get thrown out of a Red Neck Hunting Club?"
Well a good start is when you are all sitting around the campfire at the end of the day... rubbing "yo guns" and all of a sudden a deer runs by and you have had enough PBR to raise yo gun up and blast away.....
Fortunately the deer got away...the bad news is that my stupid ass BIL blasted the back of own his pick-up and killed his own dogs,..... In the truck!....now that I think of it those dogs got out of a bad situation pretty easy...how FUBAR is that?... "How to get black-balled out of this "MENSA" Hunting club... Priceless...
I'd rather be in the boat with a drink on the rocks than in the drink with a boat on the rocks
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bubblybrenda
- Posts: 549
- Joined: Wed Aug 20, 2008 10:57 pm
- Location: Vancouver, BC
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sailorgirl
- Posts: 1644
- Joined: Mon Oct 30, 2006 3:03 pm
I've heard its possible to introduce alcohol by bypassing the upper digestive tract. Think "Fleet." I know it sounds extreme... but you sound like you might need to take extreme measures.pipanale wrote:Wanna know what REALLY sucks and will make me the winner of this thread. Yesterday I was diagnosed with what may be an ulcer. The initial treatment to determine how bad it is? Nexium and NO BOOZE! I have to do the holidays sober!Pete (Mr. Marcia) wrote:I say we move on to the feats of strength.
Help me Obi Wan Kenobi...you're my only hope
The only way you could have complimented me more would have been to say I have a ltttle Bill Bryson in me. I aspire to be both of them when someone is finally foolish to offer me a billion dollars to publish all this.Agent99 wrote:OMG, honestly this is all priceless. Pipanale is like a straight, married with children version of David Sedaris. But the combined rest of the stories make this thread my absolute favorite ever, ever.