God, Sometimes You Just Don't Come Through
PRECIOUS MEMORIES, HOW THEY LINGER
I hate that song, but it does make a catchy headliner, doesn't it ? Influenced by my grandmother's looming departure from Hellhole Earth, I've had the weirdest family memories come up lately. Today's was about the sandcastle contest my Crazy Aunt and her former NeanderMan attended. Due to some scheduling snafu, contestants intent on duplicating the entire Magic Kingdom in sandy miniature had to share their stretch of the beach with participants of the local gay-pride festival. NM didn't really have an issue with anyone's gender preference, but he was a bit put out by the lack of places to double-park his manly penis-substitute truck, and those darned lesbians had some nerve parking their own manly penis-substitutes in all the best spots first. He made the mistake of airing his discontent with the use of the words "fucking dykes", and immediately became persona non grata at Hermosa Beach for the rest of the day.
NM not only charmed homosexuals with his diplomacy, he also had a special way with loved ones. My favorite Thanksgiving was the one when he stomped through the door and yelled disapprovingly, "Are we having bird again ?!" My aunt finally went Okie on him one night and brained the poor guy with a frying pan for demanding "Woman, where's my dinner ?" one too many times. Keep in mind while you're visualizing it that NM was 6-feet plus and my aunt barely clears 4-foot 8, which I think makes the case against trifling with a woman when her marinara sauce is scorching.
However, don't be tempted to think of my aunt as an innocent victim. Crazy Aunt is the one who claimed the entire family would disown me if I didn't watch her cats at the last minute (I'm allergic to cats), and her fussin' and fightin' with various family members is the stuff Viking sagas are made of. The fact that NM didn't divorce her sooner is a testament to either his patience or his codependency- I don't know how he lived with her for 14 years when I couldn't do it longer than nine months.
HOW DO YOU GET A RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST AN ENTIRE RELIGION ?
God must be missing me something terrible, because several of His friends have been hassling me all week to give Him a second chance. The school nurse, the substitute aide in G's classroom, and some crazy old guy on the bus all wanted me to know that God loves me so much He died for me, even though I wasn't about to be hit by a train or anything, which according to my CoDa sponsor makes Him a rescuer and in need of a 12-step meeting. Apparently, God is also very sensitive about rejection, because if I spurn His unwanted advances He's going to fry me in Hell forever, which seems to contradict His claim to love me.
Don't even get me started about His book. How that thing got to be a best-seller is beyond me- not enough sex, and where are the Nazis ? Plus, it's too damn long. Doesn't anybody hire an editor anymore ? You'd think God Himself wrote it, the way some people act, but I heard it was actually (holy)ghost-written. Personally, I found many of the book's characters to be one-dimensional, especially the war-mongering male ones. The female characters were underutilized, despite their being way more interesting and complex than the heroes. It's like this book was written thousands of years ago !
Speaking of characters, did I ever tell you about the time my grandma yelled "That's a bunch of horseshit !" at Universal Studios when she saw the admission price ? Now that's someone who's life would make a great book. Although my grandpa never smote a whole army of Canaanites, he did subject my grandma to lots of interesting sex and violence. It could even be the Bible's sequel- they could model my dad's character after Jesus, because both of them tell me to go to Hell all the time and often speak through a third party when displeased with their children, both have mothers named Mary and had moody fathers, and both prefer the sunnier climes because that's where there's more work for grouchy carpenters.
Anyway, if you have a chance to talk to God anytime soon, tell him He'd catch way more flies with honey than vinegar. Why he created flies in the first place is beyond me, and I'm not a big fan of vinegar either, but who am I to judge someone else's creative process ? And while we're on the subject of judging, tell Him to talk to his friends about their deplorable lack of social skills- did I actually ask the school nurse's opinion on where my grandma is going after she dies ? No, I don't believe I did. If He's running heaven anything like He runs this planet, maybe it's better that I'm going to Hell. I never cared much for harp music anyway...
I hate that song, but it does make a catchy headliner, doesn't it ? Influenced by my grandmother's looming departure from Hellhole Earth, I've had the weirdest family memories come up lately. Today's was about the sandcastle contest my Crazy Aunt and her former NeanderMan attended. Due to some scheduling snafu, contestants intent on duplicating the entire Magic Kingdom in sandy miniature had to share their stretch of the beach with participants of the local gay-pride festival. NM didn't really have an issue with anyone's gender preference, but he was a bit put out by the lack of places to double-park his manly penis-substitute truck, and those darned lesbians had some nerve parking their own manly penis-substitutes in all the best spots first. He made the mistake of airing his discontent with the use of the words "fucking dykes", and immediately became persona non grata at Hermosa Beach for the rest of the day.
NM not only charmed homosexuals with his diplomacy, he also had a special way with loved ones. My favorite Thanksgiving was the one when he stomped through the door and yelled disapprovingly, "Are we having bird again ?!" My aunt finally went Okie on him one night and brained the poor guy with a frying pan for demanding "Woman, where's my dinner ?" one too many times. Keep in mind while you're visualizing it that NM was 6-feet plus and my aunt barely clears 4-foot 8, which I think makes the case against trifling with a woman when her marinara sauce is scorching.
However, don't be tempted to think of my aunt as an innocent victim. Crazy Aunt is the one who claimed the entire family would disown me if I didn't watch her cats at the last minute (I'm allergic to cats), and her fussin' and fightin' with various family members is the stuff Viking sagas are made of. The fact that NM didn't divorce her sooner is a testament to either his patience or his codependency- I don't know how he lived with her for 14 years when I couldn't do it longer than nine months.
HOW DO YOU GET A RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST AN ENTIRE RELIGION ?
God must be missing me something terrible, because several of His friends have been hassling me all week to give Him a second chance. The school nurse, the substitute aide in G's classroom, and some crazy old guy on the bus all wanted me to know that God loves me so much He died for me, even though I wasn't about to be hit by a train or anything, which according to my CoDa sponsor makes Him a rescuer and in need of a 12-step meeting. Apparently, God is also very sensitive about rejection, because if I spurn His unwanted advances He's going to fry me in Hell forever, which seems to contradict His claim to love me.
Don't even get me started about His book. How that thing got to be a best-seller is beyond me- not enough sex, and where are the Nazis ? Plus, it's too damn long. Doesn't anybody hire an editor anymore ? You'd think God Himself wrote it, the way some people act, but I heard it was actually (holy)ghost-written. Personally, I found many of the book's characters to be one-dimensional, especially the war-mongering male ones. The female characters were underutilized, despite their being way more interesting and complex than the heroes. It's like this book was written thousands of years ago !
Speaking of characters, did I ever tell you about the time my grandma yelled "That's a bunch of horseshit !" at Universal Studios when she saw the admission price ? Now that's someone who's life would make a great book. Although my grandpa never smote a whole army of Canaanites, he did subject my grandma to lots of interesting sex and violence. It could even be the Bible's sequel- they could model my dad's character after Jesus, because both of them tell me to go to Hell all the time and often speak through a third party when displeased with their children, both have mothers named Mary and had moody fathers, and both prefer the sunnier climes because that's where there's more work for grouchy carpenters.
Anyway, if you have a chance to talk to God anytime soon, tell him He'd catch way more flies with honey than vinegar. Why he created flies in the first place is beyond me, and I'm not a big fan of vinegar either, but who am I to judge someone else's creative process ? And while we're on the subject of judging, tell Him to talk to his friends about their deplorable lack of social skills- did I actually ask the school nurse's opinion on where my grandma is going after she dies ? No, I don't believe I did. If He's running heaven anything like He runs this planet, maybe it's better that I'm going to Hell. I never cared much for harp music anyway...
posted by Fredrika Krueger at 8:43 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home