See, I KNEW I shouldn't have engaged those fuckin subterranean lowlife motherfuckers, see what happens? It's like feeding a fuckin street mutt, they just end up following you home and getting pus and all manner of vileness on your shoes from their suppurating lesions. PLUS they want you to fuckin feed them.
I'm seriously reconsidering the part about stupidity not being a felony.
I don't know, man, I'm thinking of inviting my favourite Auntie to visit here, but then I'm worried I'm going to have to start worrying about what I write.
And that's something I really try to stay away from.
I invited my big sister, but that's no biggie because, A. She's so useless on the computer that she'll never be able to find it again after her first visit, and 2. She can't really read all that good.
I'll probably go ahead and ask Auntie, we get along great.
I got one of those weird families where my Ma was the youngest of 4 kids, and was like 3 or 4 years older than the Old Man, who was the ELDEST of 4 kids, so like my oldest Uncle was a WWII flying ace, and Auntie is only 8 years older than me.
She used to babysit us a lot.
I DISTINCTLY recall her telling us that The Beatles were crap, that we really needed to dig the Dave Clark Five if we wanted to be cool.
I have countless treasured memories of visiting Gramma & Grampa's in the summer in Red Deer (where American Graffiti was still going on well into the 70's) and Gramma making the Aunties and their boyfriends take us with them for their Friday night cruises and visits to The Dub in our jammies.
Aunt Di would take us in Uncle Garth's (May he rest in peace) VW, and Auntie would take us in Uncle Ed's Road Runner.
Oh hell yeah.
I don't even want to talk about when they'd take us to beach at Sylvan in the summer. They had actual foot-longs.
Suffice to say that if Auntie's best friend Brenda had any idea the amount of 11-year-old wood drawing for which she was personally responsible, I'd have been on the Hound home so fast it'd have made my head spin.
Oh, did I mention Auntie's hotter than fuck?
(Sorry, Unca Ed)
Wrong 'em Boyo indeed...
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Hey, thanks for the fuckin feedback.
Readers' opinions and feelings are fucking important to me.
No, I'm fucking serious.
Really.