Thank you for taking the time from your fascinating modern life to read my delightful little blog. You may ask yourself while reading this, what kind of pathetic shut in writes a blog anyhow? And frankly, if thats the position you choose to take I suggest you ask yourself what kind of shut in reads some random college students blog anyhow?
Ya...you.... suddenly, I'm looking a whole lot cooler aren't I?
Anyways, you may now wonder what might motivate me to write this rather mundane low budget disaster in the first place. What an excellent question!
Well, like most people involved in interpersonal relationships with other carbon based life, i often find myself surrounded by people who have a tendency to say and do some pretty stupid things. However, I do not associate with your typical run of the mill assholes. These people, specifically my friends and family, are a complete unmitigated disaster. What makes these individuals such as complete and utter pain in the ass? Well, upon first examination I suppose I happen to come from a fairly normal "modern" family.
My parents have been divorced for 11 years, and split when I was like 9 or 10. I am now 20 and my parents have now finally completed their custody battle, or as I call it, a frivolous attempt to win my love via a seriously unnecessary over-budget legal experience. This may seem fairly mundane, however the bit of information that makes this little experience so typical of my family, is that I moved out 3 years ago to live on my own. Yes, my parents are insane. But more on them later.
My sister, or as I call her, "the reason people think double bagging condoms is a good idea", attends a boarding school in B.C.. She is a nightmare. She's 16 going on 21 and it is not enjoyable. She's what you'd call a hot mess. She also co-owns a share in a brain with my mother, Platypus. The two are incapable of separate thought. Much like tweedledee and tweedledum, different, but the same in a highly agitating way.However despite this, I love her.
[ In the midst of writing this, I received a phone call from Platypus,(aka.my mother). She and my sister conference called me to demand face time with me and my "boyfriend" or as I like to call him, mancandy, while my sister was in town. In the 2.5 months that are our relationship, they have yet to meet him which causes much upset in a family of complete busybodies. Frankly this delay is because I really happen to like him and would like to see where this relationship could go. Platypus then informed me that if she does not meet mancandy in the next week I am not longer allowed to see him. I laughed at this incredibly misinformed Platypus comment, and explained that If they all stopped their nonsensical yelling that I'd see what I could do.
My fear of letting mancandy interact with the fam, or "white circus" as we call ourselves, is that upon meeting them he will no doubt run for the fucking hills. It isn't even so much a fear as a concern that he will see me differently upon realizing that Platypus and my sister are bat shit insane and that I share common DNA with these people. Also, on the off chance Platypus and I happen to be wearing matching outfits that day,which can happen, he could think I belong to some sort of pseudo cult. Not good staying points for a man you hope to keep around for an extended period of time. However, I digress. The main point of this little sideshow is to demonstrate that Platypus is insane.]
The most significant, and my personal favorite in this merry band of "special olympians" is my father, Popsicle. Popsicle was married to Platypus for 10 years until he decided, he liked men. Popsicle in addition to being a homosexual, is also somewhat detached mentally from reality. Having retired fairly young, he now fills his days with vacations, shopping, and other meaningless nonsense. This cavalier attitude to the world around him causes Popsicle to more often than not have his shit be in a state of chaos, and this causing my shit not to be together and me to slam my head against a wall. He also has a tendency to wet himself while wearing white pants in tropical locals. I make it a point to speak with Popsicle every day, mostly because I love him, but also to check that he is still alive. Popsicle has a tendency to stay out late, and drink excessively with his other homosexual friends, who in my opinion have little concern for the fact he happens to be a father. I could go on, but you will all have to trust that this man is a bit of a mess despite being an incredibly savvy businessman.
This, sweet cyberspace, is my shitshow of a family. And if you choose to follow my blog I will inform you of their ongoing antics in an attempt to help make you life seem far more together than mine, because as you can see, My life is NOT together.
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