Well, I had my concerns meeting the old folk back at the remote little village my grandpa crawled out from... and it turns out with good reason.
They are a crazy bunch. They are batshit crazy. (At least I know where this madness comes from.)
They are old (naturally). A bunch of fossils sitting around, waiting for the young to arrive... But first things first...
We arrived, laden with clothes to change into. We went into a little room, trying to dress up for the funeral. Of course a couple of old gramps walk in and sit down on the couch, staring at us, trying to start a conversation while we tried to recover from the shock. Perverted much?
Well, we tried to ask them to leave. They said not to bother. Well fuck. I didn't give them the satisfaction, and pulled my skirt over my head and pulled my pants down from under the skirt without showing skin. Hah. The dirty old geezers have much to learn. Btw, have I added that it was frikkin disgusting? No? Well it was.
After that a couple of old folks glomped me, trying to start a conversation but luckily people arrived at all times and I had made my escape.
The funeral was mostly crap. Old bitches took my spot (nobody knew them but sure they had to take the spots of the family, which they obviously weren't. And they were morally outraged that we wanted our spots back. Oh, we horrible, disgusting brutes!)
Anyway... I was forced back into the last row where the flowers were so I was half blind and my nose totally clogged up from the allergies when the priest finished. Well, he sucked. He talked about Mother Theresa and a great Hungarian writer, but totally failed to link it or even mention my godmother. We all thought he was just your usual stupid Catholic priest. Turns out he was a relative. I could have spit in his bloody stupid face.
After the funeral... we ate. The food... ick, let's not talk about the food, I'm still trying to forget it.
After we went back to get our stuff and run out of there: We were caught! I changed back into my jeans and pullover, and I peeked out. At least 7 hungry pair of eyes looked back: all the old folk wanted me to spill thewir woes and their stories about backache and to generally make me a good listener. I ran back. They called out to me to please come out and sit beside them. They even got into a fight as in who gets to sit next to me and whine. Oh joy.
Well, I had to crawl out eventually, and I got swarmed by the batshit crazy folk. Who talked my ear off, asked me questions but didn't give a flying bat's arse of how I was, if I even remembered them or had any general idea of who they were. No, I was there to listen. Well, hell no.
So we had to sit down, all of us and listen. We tried to leave 3 times, but they started to talk again. Then we finally left, but they sank their claws in us and told us we absolutely *had* to visit them again, soon.
HELL NO! *with passion*
Please. If I ever get this crazy, please shoot me. I mean it. It would be a huge good deed.
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