Gaggalicious
Labor Day. So I cleaned the kitchen.
/beat
We later cleaned up and went to sup with Mr. Morgan's partial family, each offering quite the buffet of moods. In attendence:
Greedy for family time
Greedy for MY time, and cigarettes
Downright depressed and lying about it. Or simply hates me.
I was well bahaved. I spent time with the birds of the house (whole room dedicated to pooping flappers, but I grew up in a house where the garage was an aviary with no less than 200 birds at any time), mostly keen on the one who wears a little bird collar because she cannot stop from eating herself. This bird interests me a great deal. I asked her to stop eating herself, she made no promises. This bird is named Zoie. She is a ... let's not lie this bird is fucked up and eeking every meal out of respect to her owner. She doesn't seem to have much quality of life, but she also doesn't seem to notice she's the only bird in the embarrassing ass collar. That's her saving grace.
The cat was let out of the bag about my ministry and PhD, which led to a very long and "meaningful" discussion with step mom in law, who was nothing but respectful to me and not a snide comment slipped from her mouth all evening. She beamed that I am now with god. I forgave her sin.
The meal was obscene, and by that I mean by cost and quantity. My vision proved me a fucking moron once again as we sat in a booth and I looked behind us and whispered to Mr. Morgan "There is a guy in the booth behind us that looks JUST like your dad."
"It's a mirror."
"Oh duh."
I swear I am not stupid (entirely), my eye refracts in darkness and I really can't tell shit from... well... Dad apparently.
Right so. We puked the rest of the night proving that we are rice and bread people and cannot tolerate rich food, no matter how tasty. Both of us came home from work wanting to die holding the bucket. My step mother in law doesnt even have to cook to get us puking, it's a fucking anomoly and downright magical.
It was a nice evening pre-pukes, and some interesting elements revealed about how I am perceived in that end of the family. I suppose I present myself either muted, or blank because when I spoke an opinion the table went quiet. I will remind myself that my voice makes people's eyes hit their trays while forks shovel food quickly as if to flee.
All for today, still ass out and considering eating my leftovers so I can vomit again, because it wasn't the carnival I'd hoped for the first time.
-DM
/beat
We later cleaned up and went to sup with Mr. Morgan's partial family, each offering quite the buffet of moods. In attendence:
Greedy for family time
Greedy for MY time, and cigarettes
Downright depressed and lying about it. Or simply hates me.
I was well bahaved. I spent time with the birds of the house (whole room dedicated to pooping flappers, but I grew up in a house where the garage was an aviary with no less than 200 birds at any time), mostly keen on the one who wears a little bird collar because she cannot stop from eating herself. This bird interests me a great deal. I asked her to stop eating herself, she made no promises. This bird is named Zoie. She is a ... let's not lie this bird is fucked up and eeking every meal out of respect to her owner. She doesn't seem to have much quality of life, but she also doesn't seem to notice she's the only bird in the embarrassing ass collar. That's her saving grace.
The cat was let out of the bag about my ministry and PhD, which led to a very long and "meaningful" discussion with step mom in law, who was nothing but respectful to me and not a snide comment slipped from her mouth all evening. She beamed that I am now with god. I forgave her sin.
The meal was obscene, and by that I mean by cost and quantity. My vision proved me a fucking moron once again as we sat in a booth and I looked behind us and whispered to Mr. Morgan "There is a guy in the booth behind us that looks JUST like your dad."
"It's a mirror."
"Oh duh."
I swear I am not stupid (entirely), my eye refracts in darkness and I really can't tell shit from... well... Dad apparently.
Right so. We puked the rest of the night proving that we are rice and bread people and cannot tolerate rich food, no matter how tasty. Both of us came home from work wanting to die holding the bucket. My step mother in law doesnt even have to cook to get us puking, it's a fucking anomoly and downright magical.
It was a nice evening pre-pukes, and some interesting elements revealed about how I am perceived in that end of the family. I suppose I present myself either muted, or blank because when I spoke an opinion the table went quiet. I will remind myself that my voice makes people's eyes hit their trays while forks shovel food quickly as if to flee.
All for today, still ass out and considering eating my leftovers so I can vomit again, because it wasn't the carnival I'd hoped for the first time.
-DM
posted by DMorgan's Zoo at
5:22 PM
4 Comments:
I avoid the bird room at all costs. I pretend it isn't there...it is the freakiest thing ever!!!
Sorry I wasn't there (well not really).
Why does family dinners lead to puke?
Hmmm I ask myself that very question. Did you keep your eye on the food at all times???
You were missed. :) -DM
lol meant to add, not only puke, you lost a body part last time you took the plunge! -DM
Dang! Our family dinners, though often just an excuse to drink and have me kick everyone's asses at whatever games they want to lose, are downright mundane comparitively! I actually miss having my goofy family around....somtimes.
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