Family Guy
By Wyatt Earp | August 1, 2005
I spent a relaxing Sunday at my brother’s luxurious Montgomery County abode, scarfing down hot dogs and drinking beer. Life was good (for a change). Of course, the barbecue was a family affair, and when my mother’s side of the family gets together, the brutality is not far away. Imagine a half dozen people with my cynical, sarcastic personality (or lack thereof) in one place at one time! It’s similar to a Don Rickles concert. Let the insults begin. Fire in the hole!!!
Everyone has their attack pattern. I, personally, cut a wide swath through my siblings, cousins and uncle. My sister Allison (whose 20th birthday is today, Happy Birthday, kid!) gets the “idiot” comments and the “fashion faux pas” cracks. My favorite of the day was, “Hey, Al, I think you’re exceeding the maximum weight limit for those pants.” Brutal. My brother Chris, the football hero, is Mr. Class. If he’s not doing something disgusting, he is having a very bad day. Yesterday, he came next to me, broke wind, then laughed as he jogged away. Nice.
My Uncle Ray is one of the nicest guys in the world, but even after his heart attack, he is still a viable target. My favorite pastime with Ray is ripping his insolent children, Colleen and Ray. Colleen, the genius of the family, will have earned her Masters in English by the end of the week. Although I cannot be more proud of her, I can’t let her know it. My favorite cluster bomb yesterday was when I told her, “Yeah, that Masters will be great comfort when you’re 60 and alone with your 75 cats.” Tee hee hee! Young Ray, on the other hand, is a target-rich environment. After narrowly graduating from West Chester University (I mean, how good could that school be, my wife went there!), he is enjoying his dream career . . . by working in a bar. Jokes like that just write themselves.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention yours truly. After the requisite fat jokes, the family broke out the lousy cop shots, including this gem from my Uncle Ray: “Hey, would you rather be a Camden cop and forget to look in that trunk for the three kids, or a Philly cop who has to shoot a naked man who stole a police car?” Ouch. And that wasn’t even the worst of the day. Colleen and Chris let loose on SYLG. Colleen mentioned that when she gets her Masters, she’s gonna proofread the blog, and send it back “covered in red ink.” Chris was nice enough to say he doesn’t even read it, because “I lose interest after a paragraph.” Wow.
There you have it, kids. Yet another reason I am so dysfunctional.
Topics: All About Wyatt | 8 Comments »
August 1st, 2005 at 1:31 pm
*laugh*
This is so classic!
When my family gets together, which has been many many years, there’s grandma pounding the whiskey while her 13 children (although all are adults in age only) play who can roughhouse the hardest without making someone bleed. Never works out very good.
By the time gramma (we’ve nicknamed Gamma Ray) is finished with the bottle, it gets bounced off of one of her sons’ heads then it really gets fun…
Gotta love da fam eh?
August 1st, 2005 at 1:55 pm
Awesome,
Sounds just like one of my families get togethers. We actually have a “crying towel” That gets thrown to which ever person is whining about getting smacked on!!
Cool.
August 1st, 2005 at 2:13 pm
Steve – A “crying towel:” not THAT’S funny!!!
August 1st, 2005 at 9:29 pm
Any chance we’re related? Your relatives sound a lot like mine! :p
August 1st, 2005 at 9:51 pm
Why there is nothing wrong with West Chester University.
1.) GPA better than yours at graduation.
2.) My job after graduation actually had something to do with my major, not White Glove or Jiffy Lube.
3.) WCU lacrosse much better than St. Joe’s.
August 1st, 2005 at 10:21 pm
oh man… that was brutal…
all bow…
*we’re not worthy…
we’re not worthy…*
August 1st, 2005 at 11:18 pm
Okay, everyone turn away, I’m about to beat my wife!!!
August 2nd, 2005 at 10:42 am
Just goes to show “You can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.” Wait I got that wrong there supposed to be family in there. Oh well don’t pick your family’s nose either.