Bits N Pieces

A bit about how fucking awesome Chicken is:

I've been friends with Ewe Girl for about six years and I've never seen her cry. Totally batshit crazy and neurotic, yes. Crying, nope. The other day she had an episode with a stupid boy and was sitting in my living room crying her poor eyes out. Chicken takes one look at her and dashes into the kitchen, returning with a small Tupperware container of caramel syrup and a spoon. He hands them to Ewe Girl and sits beside her comfortingly. My kid fucking rocks. ROCKS!! He already knows that crying female + flavored sugar = happiness. Or at least less sadness.

A piece about me holding my peace and then fucking flailing around and bitch-slapping someone:

One of my Aunts (my mother's sister) lives in the San Diego area. She's a cunt. At most family gatherings she must remind me and everyone around me that I was a bad teenager, without mentioning the cuntness of my mother which created the fussy teen that I was once upon a time. Now, I'm thirty-fucking-two years old. My child is almost ten years old. Give up on the ancient history, would you bitch? Nope. She brought it up again on Saturday night. A night during which I had patience that was equivalent to this tiny spec of nothing · . Our conversation then went something like this:

Sam: You know, before my dad died he told me a story about you when you were a teenager.

Aunt: Really? What did he say? (interested and not at all worried)

Sam: Well, I don't want to say, but it's a good story.

Aunt: (pushes harder) Tell me! (mind you, my Uncle and Mother are sitting right there)

Sam: No... I don't want to say.

Aunt: You're bluffing.

Sam: (oh no you DIDN'T bitch!) Tijuana. Blonde surfer boy.

Aunt: (pales, jaw dropping so fast that when it hits the concrete an audible CRACK! is heard)

Sam: (Internally) Ha, ha, ha.

Aunt: (to my mother) You TOLD HIM! (meaning my father)

My Aunt then proceeds to shit herself repeatedly with much vigor. You see, when my Aunt was 16 years old she came out to San Diego to visit my mother, father and myself. During this summer of fun she met a blonde surfer boy in Mexico and proceeded to screw his brains out before even getting a proper introduction. Cue: teen pregnancy and ensuing abortion. Which I have known about for more than ten years, holding in my back pocket for the day that I say:

"Fuck you and your high horse you stupid cunt."