Suck My Xmas Spirit Stick
I am almost 18, and have had 17 Christmas Holidays on this planet. My family always either goes to NC, or Charleston, SC to celebrate with every other God for-saken member of my family. A dozen or so kids under 6, about 8 6-12 years olds, and about 9 15-20 year olds, all crammed onto my great grandfathers massive planation home that looks like it should have been torn down eons ago.
Over the years I've grown tired of the holidays. Starting at about 13 I guess. I started getting annoyed with relatives, and their antics on life, and always giving me damn advice that is outdated by about 50 years. I grew sick of the constant bickering between me and my cousins, and people they claim I have some relationship to, but I don't care how much they say that. There is no way in hell I am related to some of those country circus bimbos. Stevie Wayne, Bobby Sue Tate, Marry Lynn, Uncle Earl, and any other redneck name you can think of and I have a relative that goes by it. They annoy me all of us about 75 of us gathered around this huge old house trying to pretend like we get along with each other. Trying our hardest to try and act like we care what the hell of going on with our kins life, even though there is the highly likely scenario that we aren't related to them at all. They just screwed their sister and had a baby, ending the blood relationship with me several generations ago. Which I am hoping is the case.
Then there is the constant sucking up to PaPa, Grand Daddy, Griddy, or whatever the hell you want to call my great grandfather. They all try to impress him, because they are deep down inside only trying to get to him, to leave to them his tobacco plantation and home that has been in my family for more then 200 years. This man is so old I just don't see why he doesn't fall over in his wheel chair and die. He's about 90, on oxygen, and looks like a limp noodle everytime I lay my eyes on him. Honestly I don't see hows he's still alive without selling his soul to the devil, and knowing his ancient evil grumpy ass he probably did. BTW I already know who's inheriting the planation, and it ain't me. It's some douche bag tobacco chewing ball cap wearing deer hunting incest loving cousin of my mother. It's so obvious my great grand father just worships the ground he walks on.
So this year I demanded to stay home, when the family left this morning at 3 GOD DAMN AM. I've been making this demand for weeks, and my Mom finally saw I hated going and said fine. She gave me my gift which was cash as usual, and she went on her way with my siblings.
Well, I called Butt Boy and his family is also going out of down back to California for a few days leaving him home. He's going to be spending a few nights over here;) I've washed the linins, cleaned the house, the bathroom and I'm all ready. Butt Boy's bringing us wine from his parents wine cellar, and well yeah this should be an interesting weekend.
Over the years I've grown tired of the holidays. Starting at about 13 I guess. I started getting annoyed with relatives, and their antics on life, and always giving me damn advice that is outdated by about 50 years. I grew sick of the constant bickering between me and my cousins, and people they claim I have some relationship to, but I don't care how much they say that. There is no way in hell I am related to some of those country circus bimbos. Stevie Wayne, Bobby Sue Tate, Marry Lynn, Uncle Earl, and any other redneck name you can think of and I have a relative that goes by it. They annoy me all of us about 75 of us gathered around this huge old house trying to pretend like we get along with each other. Trying our hardest to try and act like we care what the hell of going on with our kins life, even though there is the highly likely scenario that we aren't related to them at all. They just screwed their sister and had a baby, ending the blood relationship with me several generations ago. Which I am hoping is the case.
Then there is the constant sucking up to PaPa, Grand Daddy, Griddy, or whatever the hell you want to call my great grandfather. They all try to impress him, because they are deep down inside only trying to get to him, to leave to them his tobacco plantation and home that has been in my family for more then 200 years. This man is so old I just don't see why he doesn't fall over in his wheel chair and die. He's about 90, on oxygen, and looks like a limp noodle everytime I lay my eyes on him. Honestly I don't see hows he's still alive without selling his soul to the devil, and knowing his ancient evil grumpy ass he probably did. BTW I already know who's inheriting the planation, and it ain't me. It's some douche bag tobacco chewing ball cap wearing deer hunting incest loving cousin of my mother. It's so obvious my great grand father just worships the ground he walks on.
So this year I demanded to stay home, when the family left this morning at 3 GOD DAMN AM. I've been making this demand for weeks, and my Mom finally saw I hated going and said fine. She gave me my gift which was cash as usual, and she went on her way with my siblings.
Well, I called Butt Boy and his family is also going out of down back to California for a few days leaving him home. He's going to be spending a few nights over here;) I've washed the linins, cleaned the house, the bathroom and I'm all ready. Butt Boy's bringing us wine from his parents wine cellar, and well yeah this should be an interesting weekend.
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