So I feel like my Christmas has been an episode of Arrested Development.
It all started with Christmas dinner….
It was an un-traditional dinner of pork/beef barbequed ribs and green salad. Sorry, we didn’t kill any more turkeys this year (I’m pointing at you, turkey-killer!). But that’s not the interesting part. My Mom’s mom, not to be confused with my Dad’s mom, invited one of her friends over for the dinner.
Now, I’ve met this man before, so I wasn’t surprised when he started speaking nonsense and drinking too much. (To say the least, he’s a bit off). He’d begin talking, start mumbling (to no one in particular), and suddenly he’d hear a word that someone said at the other end of the table, and suddenly he’d use that word, and end up somewhere else than where he started…if we can ever say he ‘started’. Now if these “mumblings of a madman” didn’t tick me off to his…madness…well then his drinking habits did. He came over intoxicated, and proceeded to drink another 4-5 beers within…an hour. This isn’t the problem though, I know many people who do this (yes, I’m talking about you). However, when he started asking for wine, I knew this man was crazy (“Beer before liquor, never sicker…” every college student learns this one!).
All this, of course, is going on as my father, who is sitting next to him, is probably thinking “I’ve made a huge mistake.”
Ah but then my Uncle Gob appears to the rescue (Actually, Uncle Enleau). So, this uncle of mine is a masterful tactician. And when I say this, I mean he knows how to push people’s buttons (psychologically, of course…wouldn’t it be great if people just had green and red buttons to push?)
However, I don’t think my Uncle realized this guy was a loose cannon.
Being the stud-ly man that my uncle is, he starts pushing away. “Have you ever noticed that you don’t make sense? Do you realize that what you’re saying doesn’t really connect? How’d your eye get to be that way? Have you ever thought of going for an eye patch? Maybe just getting the whole pirate motif going? …”
These are the types of questions my Uncle asks of people. Needless to say, the rambling man was a bit taken aback. Not so much from the questions as from the fact that someone was actually asking him direct questions. But that’s when things started getting heated.
Throughout the conversation between said crazy person and my uncle, he had been doing a lot of scratching, which involved said man putting hand up shirt, exposing belly, to alleviate said itch. But I guess it became too much for him. So right there, as half the people are still eating dinner, conversing, while the others are shuffling around the kitchen at the bar, chatting, etc., said man removes his shirt. (Imagine slightly large, out of shape, kinda of flabby, person HERE). Ok, not that flabby. But being the man that my uncle his…pretty soon his shirt was off too (ok, mostly, he still had a tank-top on…but you could still see his ripped bod). In any case, two men were in our kitchen during dinner, partially naked.
It is around here that my mom begins to intervene, and tells said crazy to step outside and smoke a cigarette. While he’s out there, uncle starts explaining to everyone what happened (still…no one really understands why it happened, or what happened for that matter). But alas, said man here’s his name, flings open the sliding door (which is quite heavy!) and jumps to the conclusion that people were talking shit behind his back. According to my uncle, he was just talking shit to his face, and didn’t understand why these circumstances led to any more anger than before.
Anywho, to make a long story shorter, said man rummaged through our fridge (after putting shirt back on, tried to drink another beer…actually I don’t remember if he succeeded or not; first, my grandma tried to stop him from drinking more, then my dad.) In any case, he was becoming a bit too riled up, so it was time to leave. Upon leaving, my dad wished him a merry Christmas and gave him a hug (my dad is more of the peaceful character if you haven’t noticed). But I’ll never forget the last thing he said to my dad:
“That guy (my uncle) is your brother??! He’s your fucking brother??????...wtf?!”
Ok, he didn’t say wtf, but he was very surprised to find out that the man he had been harassing was none other than the brother of the very man who had shown him such hospitality.
“Well, tell him he’s a jerk then,” he said as he walked out the door, with an entourage of other brothers to see that he got home all right.
After everything had settled down, my dad’s brothers began pulling their shirts off and picking fights with each other. Well, that was until they actually had their shirts off…after that they just started laughing at each other.
Man…I just wish my camera battery hadn’t been charging during the scene, or I might have had some more realistic photos to post.
But I did get this picture. My sister got me a little bonsai tree (I had to pot and prune it myself!)
It all started with Christmas dinner….
It was an un-traditional dinner of pork/beef barbequed ribs and green salad. Sorry, we didn’t kill any more turkeys this year (I’m pointing at you, turkey-killer!). But that’s not the interesting part. My Mom’s mom, not to be confused with my Dad’s mom, invited one of her friends over for the dinner.
Now, I’ve met this man before, so I wasn’t surprised when he started speaking nonsense and drinking too much. (To say the least, he’s a bit off). He’d begin talking, start mumbling (to no one in particular), and suddenly he’d hear a word that someone said at the other end of the table, and suddenly he’d use that word, and end up somewhere else than where he started…if we can ever say he ‘started’. Now if these “mumblings of a madman” didn’t tick me off to his…madness…well then his drinking habits did. He came over intoxicated, and proceeded to drink another 4-5 beers within…an hour. This isn’t the problem though, I know many people who do this (yes, I’m talking about you). However, when he started asking for wine, I knew this man was crazy (“Beer before liquor, never sicker…” every college student learns this one!).
All this, of course, is going on as my father, who is sitting next to him, is probably thinking “I’ve made a huge mistake.”
Ah but then my Uncle Gob appears to the rescue (Actually, Uncle Enleau). So, this uncle of mine is a masterful tactician. And when I say this, I mean he knows how to push people’s buttons (psychologically, of course…wouldn’t it be great if people just had green and red buttons to push?)
However, I don’t think my Uncle realized this guy was a loose cannon.
Being the stud-ly man that my uncle is, he starts pushing away. “Have you ever noticed that you don’t make sense? Do you realize that what you’re saying doesn’t really connect? How’d your eye get to be that way? Have you ever thought of going for an eye patch? Maybe just getting the whole pirate motif going? …”
These are the types of questions my Uncle asks of people. Needless to say, the rambling man was a bit taken aback. Not so much from the questions as from the fact that someone was actually asking him direct questions. But that’s when things started getting heated.
Throughout the conversation between said crazy person and my uncle, he had been doing a lot of scratching, which involved said man putting hand up shirt, exposing belly, to alleviate said itch. But I guess it became too much for him. So right there, as half the people are still eating dinner, conversing, while the others are shuffling around the kitchen at the bar, chatting, etc., said man removes his shirt. (Imagine slightly large, out of shape, kinda of flabby, person HERE). Ok, not that flabby. But being the man that my uncle his…pretty soon his shirt was off too (ok, mostly, he still had a tank-top on…but you could still see his ripped bod). In any case, two men were in our kitchen during dinner, partially naked.
It is around here that my mom begins to intervene, and tells said crazy to step outside and smoke a cigarette. While he’s out there, uncle starts explaining to everyone what happened (still…no one really understands why it happened, or what happened for that matter). But alas, said man here’s his name, flings open the sliding door (which is quite heavy!) and jumps to the conclusion that people were talking shit behind his back. According to my uncle, he was just talking shit to his face, and didn’t understand why these circumstances led to any more anger than before.
Anywho, to make a long story shorter, said man rummaged through our fridge (after putting shirt back on, tried to drink another beer…actually I don’t remember if he succeeded or not; first, my grandma tried to stop him from drinking more, then my dad.) In any case, he was becoming a bit too riled up, so it was time to leave. Upon leaving, my dad wished him a merry Christmas and gave him a hug (my dad is more of the peaceful character if you haven’t noticed). But I’ll never forget the last thing he said to my dad:
“That guy (my uncle) is your brother??! He’s your fucking brother??????...wtf?!”
Ok, he didn’t say wtf, but he was very surprised to find out that the man he had been harassing was none other than the brother of the very man who had shown him such hospitality.
“Well, tell him he’s a jerk then,” he said as he walked out the door, with an entourage of other brothers to see that he got home all right.
After everything had settled down, my dad’s brothers began pulling their shirts off and picking fights with each other. Well, that was until they actually had their shirts off…after that they just started laughing at each other.
Man…I just wish my camera battery hadn’t been charging during the scene, or I might have had some more realistic photos to post.
But I did get this picture. My sister got me a little bonsai tree (I had to pot and prune it myself!)
Comments
Post a Comment