5/27: A Forgettable Memorial Day Tradition
I hate Memorial Day weekend. Is it because I’m an anti-war commie that despises the imperialist machine and its march over the innocents of the world? Not quite. Memorial Day weekend brings about an annual event that takes place in my (red)neck of the woods. What is it you ask? The kkk in-law white trash gathering. God I hate this “family” get-together. Basically, the better half has this aunt who organizes a cookout at her house every year, and the cretins from Mrs. kkk’s side of the family make their way down. Fuck I hate going to this thing. Aside from the crack-whore sister-in-law and her out-of-control daughter, the better half’s immediate family is normal, or at least as normal as you can get. The rest of the family tree however, well … *shudder.*
This aunt whose residence we have to go to is a welfare bum who is too fat and lazy to get a real job. And the only reason she gets as much welfare as she does is because there’s another aunt there who has had one foot in the grave for the last 10 years. When she goes, so does the house; I heard that the government has some sort of “lean” on the house where once this woman dies the other aunt will have to either pay off debt that the property has accumulated over the years, or she will have to hand everything over to the State. Sadly, the healthy aunt managed to attend my wedding last June, which pissed me off because I wanted her not to show up, thus giving me a free pass from this abortion of a cookout for the rest of my life.
I shouldn’t be so negative though, because the better half’s one cousin and her troll family won’t be in attendance. She is a real winner in life. Back when she was 18 or so she lived at this soon-to-be-taken-over house with the two aunts. Then the man of her dreams came into her life – the handyman who the aunts hired to do some occasional housework. Was this guy a strapping young lad? No. He was a late forty-something, toothless, obese Mexican with a really bad comb-over. Not only that but he already had several kids from a previous marriage he did nothing for in regards to child support. Oh, and he made his living as a part-time janitor. Well these two kids fell madly in love and soon thereafter they tried bringing in even more children into this crazy world. There was one problem. Nature, apparently, had enough of this guy reproducing and made him sterile. That didn’t stop these two – the chick got artificially inseminated; not once, but twice. How are they supporting this family? With food stamps, welfare and just about every other public assistance program out there. After all, having the income of a part-time janitor to support a family of four isn’t what it used to be, thanks to this Bush economy. But yet somehow, someway, they managed to buy a house. Granted I’m sure it’s probably a shit hole, but it’s a house nevertheless. I love this country.
The reason this test-tube family won’t be gracing the rest of the white trash with their presence is because this cookout has been traditionally held on Memorial Day, but this year it’s being held on the day before. This is because someone in this clan who has an EMT job (or something like that) is going to be “on call” Monday and wouldn’t have been able to attend the cookout had it been held on May 29. Instead, the test-tube family is going to be spending the day at some local amusement park as a form of "protest" – I hope this place accepts food stamps or else there are going to be some hungry kids.
I do have some pleasant memories of this odd couple. A few years ago when we moved back to Pennsylvania, the better half invited them over to our previous residence. I don’t know why she did this, but whatever. Anyway, the Mexican began roughhousing our cats, which annoyed me, but I figured this would teach JJ a lesson the next time he decides to approach a dirty Mexican and sniff his shoe. However, this guy then picked up our one cat Shadow, who passed away in ’04. We got Shadow as a stray, and he always had a bit of a wild streak in him. I warned his handler that if Shadow didn’t want to be held he’d scratch and bite. My warnings went unheeded. A few seconds later, Shadow proceeded to claw the ever-loving shit out of him, drawing blood in a number of places. As Shadow was tossed back down, Mr. Sterile glanced over at me with a look of shock and outrage. I was doing everything I could to keep from laughing. That will do, cat. That will do.
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