Wednesday, July 30, 2008

makes you wonder what they're up to

Another one that's not totally unique, but that certainly colors the picture of my dad.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

most of life's problems are too complicated

This is a relatively recent one, from my cousin's high school graduation party in May. I should say the quote is recent, but the reference is quite old.

My uncle had recently had his home absolutely trashed by a derelict kid he and my aunt had foolishly taken under their wing. He was describing the mayhem that greeted them on their return from a weekend trip. This sounds like a hell of a party the kid threw at their house: semen in all the sheets, smell of urine everywhere, brand new (expensive) grill overrun with ash and grease. It sounded like the kid had made zero effort to clean up afterwards.

My uncle mentioned all the ruination wrought on his possessions, but what he focused on was the betrayal and insecurity this aroused in him. Not to mention the anger. In my uncle's own words he was about two minutes from going to prison for a very long time when he first got his hands on this kid.

My dad brought up his similar experience when our house got robbed by our fat neighbor while we were camping on vacation one year. He, too, felt that the loss of possessions was secondary to the emotions effected by the robbery, which he likened unto non-consensual receptive anal intercourse.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I've had my share of other peculiar kinds.

Seriously.  Direct quote.

I have no idea what the context for this was. I know we were in the car driving around Riverside Park in Victoria, but I'm not sure if there was an event for cripples that screwed with traffic or we couldn't find parking even though there were dozens of empty handicap spots or what. It sure was funny though.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Now you know

We were in Brownsville, Texas, for one of Ojo's football games and spent the night there because it's a pretty long drive back to Victoria.  The next morning we eat in the restaurant attached, or very near, to the motel we stayed in.   It took a very long time to get our food.  I don't remember thinking the place was all that busy, but mostly I was focused on not doing anything to draw the wrath I could see brewing in my dad's eyes with each passing second.  I mean, there were two -- not one, but two -- hot high school cheerleaders eating with us.  After we finally eat our cold breakfast tacos and everybody's filing out, my dad goes up to pay for the meal.  The cashier is this teenage Mexican girl, probably 16 or 17.  My dad lays into her, giving her his best look of contempt and finishing with the line above.  Of course, we were never coming back to Brownsville anyway, so his edict was a little hollow.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

My heart bleeds for the Snicker-Snack Company

Not the most classic of my Dad's utterances, but revealing nonetheless.  I can't recall the specific instances when I've heard this, but they've all been since reaching adulthood.