(no subject)

[apocalypsos]

My love for the bunny knows no bounds. *snuggles*

Also, it turns out I'm going to run out of extra icon time next week. I really need to scrape together some bucks and do something about that. And extending my paid account time, and ... er, buying a pony.

Oh, and while I was at work today, I was pissy because the other guys in the office totally hijacked my radio (and were playing the Christian station on it, which was sort of a double insult) and I wanted to listen to Don & Mike. And then my mind started wandering and promptly tripped over one of the games they've played on the show.

I can't remember what it's called -- something like "Big Happy Family", I think -- but basically, they get two family members on the phone and ask them three questions separately to see if they match answers. If you've never heard it, the questions are:

1. Which family member has the biggest problems with drugs or alcohol?
2. Which family member would you consider the most attractive?
3. If you could get away with it, which family member would you kill?

#2 is pretty easy, because I'd immediately pick my aunt Carolyn, who's blond and gorgeous and has a wardrobe I want to raid like crazy. As for #3, I'd probably pick my uncle Butch, just because ... well, hell, I don't know. If he wasn't related to me, I know I wouldn't speak to him as a friend. All of my other relatives, I'd get along with, but him ... not so much.

As for #1, the easiest would be my uncle Johnny, but if we're dealing with "problems" in a less serious definition, I'd pick my mom. And I'm not saying that because my mother is an alcoholic, which she isn't. I'm saying that because my mother has the most "embarrassing things I did when I was drunk" stories of anyone I know. She doesn't get drunk often, but when she does, it's always amusing for everybody else. (Well, usually.)

Anyway, those of you who weren't around at Christmas Eve missed when my mom went out with her friends bar-hopping that day and get wasted -- before, I might add, she was supposed to host Christmas Eve. This meant that while my mom was puking her guts out in the bedroom, little miss Fresh-Off-An-Eight-Hour-Bus-Trip was downstairs cutting veggies and making stuffed shells. Considering I had this basically flung in my face, I ended up doing a pretty good job. (I messed up some stuff, but come on.

So, there's your set-up. My mother, in her bedroom, sick and drunk and laid out on the bed moaning. Drunk Mom is really more amusing than it sounds.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom across the hall, my brother was drinking a Bacardi Silver.

See, I come home that day and walk in to say hi to find him casually drinking a Bacardi while checking his email. A friend of his bought a six pack, decided he didn't like the taste, and let Bryan have two bottles. I could have flipped out, but really, what would that have accomplished? Besides, I'm supposed to yell at him because he's drinking one bottle (he was saving the other for another time) at home, while in his bedroom, when he knows he won't be driving? Yeah, right. If my parents are going to tell him they know he's going to drink and they won't give him hell as long as he drinks responsibly, I sure as hell am not going to yell. (Especially considering I already knew my mom was trashed.) My only advice was, "You'd better make sure you get rid of that bottle when you're done."

So right about then, my mom calls me into her bedroom and asks me to take over Christmas Eve duties. Okay, fine. Whatever. I head downstairs to start cooking, and it's about this time that my mother barges into my brother's room and essentially tells Bryan, "You really shouldn't get drunk. Really. Not if you don't want to throw up like I just did."

All my brother could do was stare at her, then at the half-empty Bacardi bottle in his hand, then back at her. Bottle. Mom. Bottle. Mom. (He even did the impression later on. I was vastly amused.)

Mom never noticed it, and went right back to her room after telling him that.

Now, a question. Which one of these two people is a responsible drinker?

A. The woman who knows she has to host a party for fifteen people and gets drunk anyway?

OR

B. The teenage boy who, while he theoretically shouldn't be drinking and if he had any common sense wouldn't be doing it in his own house, only had one on a night he knew he'd be home and wouldn't be driving?

For lack of a better option, I pick B.

The best part came the next day, when Bryan, who isn't delighting a Super Sekrit part of himself unless he's in trouble with my parents, left the empty Bacardi bottle on his computer desk and my mom found it. My mom then runs to me and starts complaining about how stupid he is. Which, okay, yeah, drinking alcohol in his room, but I still can't believe I didn't blurt out, "Mom, you saw him drinking it already."

In retrospect, I should have, just to answer her "When?" with a dry, "Oh, right after you stopped heaving your drunken guts into the bedroom trashcan." 'Cause, you know, I'm a snot like that.

In any event, I really should call my brother this weekend anyway. My parents are going to New York City for the weekend to see my grandfather (and get spoiled rotten, because Al's cool like that), and they're leaving Bryan home alone to take care of the cats. You know, I think he can be trusted to take care of himself for two days, what with him turning 18 next week and all, but the last time they left hime alone for the weekend with the cats, he only managed to feed them on time, while not cleaning up piles of cat puke on the carpet and not changing the litter. (In any other house, it might not be a problem, but there are seven of the little buggers.) I think the only reason they get fed at all when Bryan's in charge is because if you so much as think the word "kitchen", they promptly swarm you and start steering you towards the direction of the cat food drawer like a herd of very determined Siamese cows.

Ten bucks says I call on Saturday and he hasn't cleaned the cat litter. If I were really cruel, I'd lie and say that I called Mom on Friday and she said that if he didn't clean the litter, she was going to dump it on his futon. Then again, I don't think that's called "lying" so much as "the first stage of advanced precognition."

EDIT: *pounces on shemchadash and snuggles the hell out of him* Thankyouthankyouthankyou! Now where's my pony? ;P

Comments

[gwen-louise.livejournal.com]

Once again you have brightened my day. Though really I shouldn't be giggling, when my own family are fairly odd as well. See, my family, don't have fights, or disagreements, they have feuds. Then they all get together at christmas, glare at each other, drink too much, and start bitching about how much they hate each other.

Oh, and that stuffed bunny? I NEED that bunny. :D

[gwen-louise.livejournal.com]

Watch closely as Gwen once again shows she cannot use html to make italics to save her life... (it was supposed to only italic 'feuds')The third time I have messed that up in as many days would you believe?

[zeelee-penguin.livejournal.com]

Eee! Who made the bunny? It's so cute. And evil. Like the Monty Python rabbit, but porny.

[apocalypsos.livejournal.com]

Um, I don't know who made the bunny, but I do know that the genre it supports is what I'm going to your icon in a sec.

Oh, sorry. I'll be fine. Really. *goes back to adoring every single inch of that part of Jonathan's body ... my love for those photos knows no bounds, either ...*

[zeelee-penguin.livejournal.com]

*eg* I love this icon, it immediately distracts everyone from anything I actually have to say. 8)

God, I know. Those photos have eaten my BRAIN (well, and other parts).

Icon

[seferin.livejournal.com]

Who is that?

Re: Icon

[apocalypsos.livejournal.com]

Jonathan Rhys-Meyers. There was a nice little series of sorta-shirtless photos of him that ended with that nummy and revealing photo. It's a little known fact that 95% of heterosexual women who sees those photos immediately shut down and are completely useless for at least five minutes. It's kinda like visual Rohypnol. Most of us can only really look at them in private. *nods solemnly*

Re: Icon

[seferin.livejournal.com]

Ah. Good to know.

[norabombay.livejournal.com]

I want one of those shirts for my dog. Because it would be cute to turn him loose on the dog park like that.

[alexislogain.livejournal.com]

I have a similar story. Last summer, my stepmom and one of her friends were having some random girls night that involved them sitting on our deck and drinking beer. Over the summer, they do that about once a month - June, July, and August. My father, who doesn't like beer, always winds up with a 6 pack of Mike's Hard, which takes him about three weeks to drink. Through random bits of naughtiness, I have discovered that oooh, it's a Mike's. Nummeh.

I got home from a concert - I believe it was the Metallica concert I hit up over the summer - and had driven her truck because I had yet to get my car. So I went onto the deck to let her know I was home and that her precious vehicle didn't get scratched, bumped, raped, or maimed while parked at the Metrodome only to notice that she and her friend had several beer cans on the table. They bought a case of 24. I think by that point there were six left.

I stopped in mid-sentence to go, "Whoa. How much have you two had to drink?" Only to get a reply of, "Oh, most of those are your brother's."

My brother was 7 at the time. I kind of blinked and said, "Okay. Well if that's the case, can I have one of the Mike's that's in the fridge?"

My stepmom's eyes got huge and she just stared at me. "You don't drink!"

"...I don't?"

Okay, so I'm 19. I'll be 20 in a month. I drink roughly 2 times a year and even then, it's not very much. I have a low tolerance for alcohol and hate the taste of beer. She proceeded to freak out, but Nancy - teh friend - proceeded to ask me the following questions: Are you home for the night? Will you be driving? Are you only having one? Then she told me to sure, go ahead.

The sad thing is, even though I'm pretty sure she was joking about saying all the empty cans were my brother's, she flipped enough about the idea of me drinking that I'm vaguely afraid to ask her what she meant, and that was almost a year ago. "Hey Mar? You remember the night you and Nancy let me drink alcohol...?"

[apocalypsos.livejournal.com]

Mmmm, I love me some Mike's. I'm not much of a drunk either (two of any of my favorites will get me nicely buzzed) and since I don't like the taste of most alcohol, there's really only four drinks I can stand -- Smirnoff (both Red and Triple Black, which is my personal fave), Mike's, Bacardi, and strawberry daquiris. Nummy ... I think I need to drink this weekend. Oh, yes.

[alexislogain.livejournal.com]

Triple Black...oh god nummeh.

[apocalypsos.livejournal.com]

Mmm ... I treat Triple Black like water. If I could only drink one thing for the rest of my life, that'd be it. Of course, my life would be considerably shorter, but still.

[alexislogain.livejournal.com]

Yes. But much more amusing. Oh, wait, I forgot who I was talking to... ^^;

[wer-bin-ich.livejournal.com]

Stories are fun! I'm 20 now, and my mother used to let us kids drink. I mean, she would even buy us alcohol, but only if we weren't going anywhere that night. She is just super spiffy. And she totally knows all my "Oh man, I was so drunk that night!" stories. The first time she ever saw me drunk was actually easter when I was 18. My sister, mom, and I were drinking wine (we always have wine in the house for holidays), and I had a lot (plus I had a super shit-ay level of tolerance). I was in the glider chair, rocking back and forth, went a little too far forward and proceeded to fall out of the chair. My mom and sister couldn't stop laughing.
***
And oh yes the cats. I completely know what you mean about swarming the kitchen. Back in the day we had a kajillion cats (Well, 24- it was a whole big thing. Damn bitches work fast on getting preggers)....and when you went into the kitchen to feed them, next thing you know, you have the little ones climing up your pant legs, the adults jumping onto the counter, and all the rest surrounding you. Scarrrry. But then we finally gave them all away (save for 4 of them). Pheeeew!

[septembergrrl.livejournal.com]

Your brother sounds like my brother, except Mark has decided he Will Not Drink and manages to be obnoxious about that. But he's definitely up there on the lack of responsibility scale.

Family is fun.

[apocalypsos.livejournal.com]

My brother's just lucky I like him, because I have so much stuff I could tell our parents if I didn't. Like the fact that I know he's smoked pot at least twice (to which I could only tell him not to smoke it when he knew Mom and Dad might smell it ... so, you know, do it when he's sleeping over a friend's house), and the fact that he drove my mother's Beetle with four beers in him, or that he and two of his friends finished off an entire bottle of Southern Comfort one night (okay, that one I called him on) ...

Like I said, the little bastard is damn lucky I like him.

[beanarie.livejournal.com]

One of the weirdest things about my brother is that he tells my parents almost everything. Well, they don't know about the E (occasional use), the K (hopefully only once or twice), and the pot (couple times a month, probably), but every time he does something dumb concerning alcohol or the ladies he blabs to my mom. It's to the point where he's told her things she wishes he'd just kept to himself. As for that other stuff, it drives my sister batshit 'cause she doesn't like him, but despite our collective adult status (we're 22, 25 and 27, no more kiddie table in our clan), she still feels the kid compulsion to not be a dirty snitch. That, and she has no direct proof, except for what he tells her. My brother's got a big freaking mouth.

[beanarie.livejournal.com]

No way, my little brother's like that too. Except he is very much a fan of alcohol (being that my dad's European and my mom's liberal, there's no drinking age in our house, but Matt has to go and get arrested when he gets drunk). My mom held her breath the whole time he Spring Break-ed in Cancun. What is it with them?

[apocalypsos.livejournal.com]

Ooo, I was obnoxiously sober until I turned 22. Than I had a Mike's and found out what true love really was. (Actually, Smirnoff Triple Black is true love, but I was young and foolish.)

Speaking as one who does not drink...

[seferin.livejournal.com]

but my job makes me want to... what should I start with? You know, to get loopy but not sick?