This program will resume shortly. Photo courtesy of Science Dump.
The Buffer Zone Dysfunctional Family Survey results are in and the goal is to post one every day or so or three. The main question of our survey was: Without naming names, who is the relative in your family that causes all the drama? And what incident best illustrates their craziness, “personality” or friction they bring to your family?
“I was raised in a Southern Coastal town where manners were taught and expected from the moment of birth. We are a genteel clan that addresses everyone with “Ma’am”, “Sir”, or “Honey”. My sweet husband’s father imagines himself an outlaw. He roars up to joint family functions on his big motorcycle, dressed in the typical offensive saying t-shirt, black leather vest and red bandana. He loves nothing more than to shock whoever is in earshot with his racist and homophobic comments. He was finally banned from future gathering when he grabbed my aunt’s bottom and proclaimed he liked his women with meat on them.”
Thank you for submitting this anonymous follower. It is truly a shame when in-laws become outlaws. Sweet tea for all to celebrate his banishment.
The following Buffer Zone Dysfunctional Family Survey responder wishes to remain anonymous, bless her heart.
Our main question was: Without naming names, who is the relative in your family that causes all the drama? And what incident best illustrates their craziness, “personality” or friction they bring to your family?
“That would be my niece. I have a rather large family, with only one grandparent still living. All holidays, birthdays, and family celebrations are held at my grandmother’s small, but charming frame house. Everyone is invited to every occasion, and the attendees vary as each family has it’s own activities and schedules. All family members make an effort to be there, except for my niece. She also doesn’t RSVP, leaving the family wondering if Jane is going to show up, therefore making each occasion about her is some respect. She doesn’t miss a Christmas gathering though, or the present my grandmother will have waiting under the tree. We all had quite a laugh last Christmas, when the family matriarch passed out cards containing cash, and honestly couldn’t remember my niece’s name.”
How sweet of you Jane, to make all the celebrations about your own self. I’m guessing you also make a late entrance when you do come so all heads will turn when you walk in the door. Honey, I guarantee you that your family spends exactly 15 seconds each gathering thinking about whether you are there or not. Get over yourself.
It’s nice that moms and their daughters can be BFFs, except you aren’t supposed to be until your daughters are real adult type people.
Usually, teen parties involving alcohol or drugs happen when the parents are away. There are “fun” moms, some I have know personally, who feel that having a small party at their house keeps teenagers from driving under the influence.
Mariel Weinand, 18, threw a shindig in her Naples, Florida home, and when the cops showed up to squelch the party, guests ran inside and cut the lights. Two girls allegedly held Mariel up, as in Weekend At Mariel’s, while she gave her mom’s cell phone number to the police.
When reached by the authorities Carolyn Weinand, mugshot (ABC7) above, stated she had no idea there was a party goin’ on since she was out of town. She gave officers her blessing to break up the party. Police found people hiding in different rooms and closets, and SURPRISE!-Carolyn hiding in the bedroom, where she changed her tune to “safe party.”
According to newser.com, she denies buying the alcohol, but she’s charged with 26 counts of selling, giving, or serving alcoholic beverages to persons under the age of 21.
Since mom and daughter are both charged with one count of having an open house party, they might want to consider a nice trip to the mall next time instead.
We have a two-dog limit in our neighborhood. Which is probably a good thing, because I live with someone who was not allowed to have a dog when he was a child. Mothers out there I am pleading with you to get your little boy a desperately wanted dog, even if it sheds in the kitchen. A little hand vacuum will save them wanting to adopt every dog they see when they are adults.
This is Sylvia, the Golden Doodle, named after a play by I love by A. R. Gurney. If you have ever loved a dog, you must read it, or even better, see it performed.
In case she was feeling left out, I have composed another brilliant haiku for her.
Velcro dog, chasing balls and eating everything, whether it’s edible or not OOOFF! Not a lap dog
I am on a roll.
There are many poetry bloggers out in cyberspace capable of making you weep with their beautiful sensory images.
I’m not one of them.
However, I couldn’t let National Poetry Month start without posting this haiku dedicated to my Bichon/Poodle mix, Oliver Cromwell.
Go and bark no more ye of little dog brain and please pee outside.
Maybe I need to switch my focus to poetry.
I recently got a message from Word Press congratulating me on my 50th blog post. I was feeling pretty proud of myself since I fittingly started this blog on April 1st, 2013.
Until I remembered that I only write about 5 paragraphs, and had a 12 Days of Dysfunction Christmas song, where I added a line a day. Suddenly, my stats were not so impressive.
Like most people, real life and time constraints come into play. While I always have blog ideas swimming around in my somewhat fuzzy brain, I find myself spending most of my available time reading some really impressive and entertaining posts by other bloggers.
We are gearing up for the The Buffer Zone Dysfunctional Family Survey posts, so check back to amuse yourself with crazy family incidents, and feel better about your DNA. Until then, I will be re-blogging some of my favorite posts by incredible writers.
Remember you only have 123 days until The Buffer Zone Day.