A small blurg
I call funny stances, blurgs...
here it is..
My mother enjoys her hobbies. Like, stuffing my dead father and placing his body in the walkway so that anyone coming in the house gets to see her dead husband on display(1),
and instead of listening to old people's music, you know like Aaron Neville and classic Green Day, she listens to Weird Al Yankovic(2), and her most favorite thing to do on her free time, she writes helpful books that will help you in life like, “Truly awful Would- You- Rathers.” and “Dares that will scar you for life.” Those are the actual titles and you know what, they are quite true. My friend, Max ,thought it would be funny to buy these books and use them on my 14th birthday party. I am now scarred beyond all repair..
(1)Oh yeah. I haven't had a single friend over since he died. That was 5 years ago. This is a problem. This is a definate problem. I have lived a 1/3 of my 15 year old life... with a dead man in my walkway. Whom my mother likes to dance with when she's had 6 beers.
(2) I was five years old when I first heard “Amish Paradise” . I enjoyed singing it at church and at weddings and especially my father 's funeral. Those are truly, appropiate, times to be singing:
“A local boy kicked me in the butt last week
I just smiled at him and turned the other cheek
I really don't care, in fact I wish him well
'Cause I'll be laughing my head off when he's burning in hell”
That is what you should be singing at your father's funeral.
“Think you're really rightous? Think you're pure in heart?
Well, I know I'm a million times as humble as thou art”
