WARNING: It stinks.
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This update begins as so many do: With an embarasing dysfunctionol family event. That once agian involves the Authorrites. Yes there is nothing more houmilliating, more mortiffying, so awffly shameful as to have to call in outsidors like the cops (or in the case of Granfather, Animal Control Units from the State Agricultorol Office) in order to calm things down.
Well, mabye there is somthing more houmiliating: having an acount of it apear on the web for the world to read.
When my last update ended, my brother had a shotgun pressed to Granfathers face. Beleive you me he woud of killed him. It probly woud of took a couple of shots being that Granfather's skull is so thick and husky, and the brain underneath so small, but I sware to God he woud of kilt him
We used to get a recording on 911 of a plesent womon's voice tellin us that "Access to this feature has been blocked" and also if we reqiure emergency medicol service to please call a private amboulance. However, a locol judge with a mean sence of humor who once ran in a dirty politicol race agianst the sheriff, and who still harbers ill will toword him, made a jugdement that all 911 calls must go directley to the sherif's office -- and if he is off duty to his HOME.
"QUIT THET GIRLY BAWLIN!', he shoutad at the top of his lungs with an unlit cigarete tightley cletched in his teeth, "YOU SOUND LIKE JEWEL IF SHE DONE STUBBED HER TOE WHILE BEEN SUCKIN ON HELIUM!"
Yes I admitt I do not have a masculline, manly cry. I bawl like a girl. I canot help it. Besides, it is just infront of my familly. (and the Internet).
(It was hard for me to admitt, but it was true: The anticippated shame of having a rellative who was a murderrer of his own Granfather was less shamefull to me than the present shame of having a living, existing rellative as disgoussting as Granps merely existing); but there were othor reasens why i was upsett: one reason why I was cryin was that I was still very much "indented."
If you just finished readin my last updatte you will know that I had this teribble sittuation where a part of my male anattomy, the part that is somtimes given to "shrinkage", (and, in my case, OK, I will admitt, is not all that big in size to start with even in its unshrunken shape), had not only shrunk but had shrunk so much and far in that you coud no longer see it. I am not makin this up.
I apologize also for my consistent and selfish preoccuppation with myself and my emmotionol problems. I have been in therappy and one of the things that is constantley being adressed in my sessions is my tendencey to blow things out of propportion. Somtines I do it so peopple pay atention to me or for pity. Also I have a low self esteem. I know. Its imature. I am imatture. I am also introverted...
OK enuogh about me
Hes not only preserved our familly but has a few times saved Granfather's life. It is for these things that i will never forgive the sheriff.
"Put the gun down," he said to my brother, "I'd hate to have to come out there and arrest y'all."
It was at this point that Granfather started wailling and cryin.
"THAY'RE TRYIN TO KILL ME SHERIFF!"
Then he started his fake weeping. There is no one who can fake cry like the old reptillian basterd. I dont know how he does it but he makes fake tears in a mattor of seconds. The way we deal with this is to just let the old beast blubbor away as to get it out of his systom.
"I CAN'T HELP HOW I IS, SHERRIF!
NOT WITH THIS HERE THANG UP MUH BEE-HIND! BWAAAH! BOO-HOO-HOO!"