Incest to the Nth (2309 hits)
Category: Politics -> IraqRating: 1.9 on 26 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by icarus1987 (View user info) at 2006-07-07 18:57:29 EDT
Family's a crazy concept. You have a family you're born into, a family you choose (or are obliged to) through marriage, and family that just happen, like my neighbor Gus. Gus is like that moron uncle who leaves Budweiser-smelling puke under the tree at Christmas parties, or that cousin your mother guilted you into taking in while he 'gets back on his feet'; the one who sits around in his underwear all day, playing video games and cranking up the A/C. Gus is like family because even though I hate the bastard, and have had him arrested, only family can spur this kind of murderous rage.
See, ever since the sexy irish wife and I arrived in Paradise Court, barely a year ago this month, Gus saw us as city slickers - an easy mark for an old blue-collar like him. We were the generous college grads who'd give him a grand when he volunteered to remove my tree; the childless couple who'd foster his son when his wife kicked him out one cold December night.
Only we didn't.
Not only did we refuse our hospitality on every front; we also flatly refused his fatherly advice. That tiki bar he said would look so cool on our porch ("it wouldn't be a titty bar, but it'd be a damned start, eh Oxford?") yeah, we went with a pond ("if my kids fall in, it's your fault") instead. That pruning and trimming he could do on our cherry trees (it would not only improve his property value, but allow him to keep a better eye on his boys if they were shooting squirrels or what not,) was strictly verboten.
He couldn't let people disrespect him like that in his community. Since he got that DUI he couldn't do construction work, and the odd jobs neighbors gave him, grinding a stump here, putting in a deck there, were all he had. What would people think of people like that living right across the street? He had to send a message, a clear message, of what happened to bad neighbors.
That message came in the form of his teenage son crawling through our garage window with an empty backpack. It was cool, really. I mean how often do you get to see Cops in your own backyard? To watch the pasty, redneck son blubber big, emo sobs into the asphalt as the cops cuff him, to watch the mulleted father come up and beg and gripe until father and son are loaded into separate squad cars and hauled away to some magical land rife with prison food and knifepoint blow jobs?
According to The Plan (I made, in my head,) after all that effort on my part, he would be gone. His already anorexic financial situation would be girdled with exorbitant fines and lawyer's bills, and he'd be forced to forfeit the HUD house (replete with gravel driveway and no air conditioning) and move to some ghetto down in the cities. A young, professional lesbian couple from Blaine would then buy it, we'd play mahjongg on Wednesdays, and the neighborhood would finally start to go in the right direction.
Only The Plan went Dubya on me, and instead of getting my lesbian WMD's, I got more redneck insurgents. In the last two weeks, Gus's brother, brother-in-law, and best friend have moved into the house. All three work, which means they can afford to help out with the HUD mortgage, but not the air conditioning, and that they work different hours, which means that at any given hour of the day, you can hear either either A.) hardcore country Western (guns, trucks, hound dogs and gravel roads,) B.) someone banging Gus's flat-chested wife (from the accompanying grunts, I can tell it's be two of the three, and I only HOPE it's not the brother-in-law) blaring through the always-open windows. And to top it all off, Gus got back from jail. I learned this one fine weekend morning while working in the yard.
"Hey, Oxford," Gus said, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked along the curb.
"What?" I asked, not looking up.
"You planning on mowing that?" He nodded at the plot of shaggy grass that ran the outer length of my picket fence; the one I was currently pulling large, thorny weeds from. I gave a noncommittal grunt - the sort that usually signals the end of a conversation.
"Well, I'm just saying. Y' have to maintain that you know." I'm not sure what his game was at this point. Maybe he was trying to show there were no hard feelings. Maybe he was looking after whatever minimal property value he'd built up. Maybe he was just being an intrusive prick.
"Not that it's any of your fucking business," I said, ripping out a patch of sweet white clover, "But we're putting in a restored prairie. We're going to rip out the weeds, do a controlled burn of the existing grass, and throw in some sedges, prairie smoke, and pasque flower. All native shit."
He stood there for a moment, uncomfortably shifting in his tar-stained tennis shoes. "Y' don't need to do that, though." He blinked. "You only need to mow it."
I stopped. "What?"
"If y' need me to get you new grass, I have a few bags of Virginia blue you could borrow."
"That's not the point. This is landscaping. This is MY landscaping."
"Everything alright?" I turned to see the Sexy Irish Wife walk down the fence line, obviously looking to diffuse whatever was about to happen.
"Belinda," Gus said, taking a step towards her, "I want y' to know I don't hold the whole jail thing against you. I know a little woman like you'd be pretty nervous when a big one like my boy comes through the window. You didn't know he was just playin' a prank."
I picked up the shovel and cut him off, standing between them. "She wasn't even home, you stupid redneck."
"We're neighbors," he said, raising one pacific, callused hand, "and you know what they say in classes at the jail? If you can't love those around you, the real problem is you."
"Your proximity," Belinda said, sliding by me, "only makes me hate you more."
"Wait," I said, "what?"
"Get off my lawn," Belinda said, taking a step closer, reaching at something tucked into the rear of her jeans, "before you're in violation of your restraining order."
"There's no restraining order." Gus said, speaking into his moustache and looking just about anywhere other than her sea-green eyes. Three words passed from her full, red lips. "There will be."
They both stood there for what felt like all morning with me three feet behind, the big (5'8) man being upstaged by his small (5'5) red haired wife. Dude, this was MY scene; the part of the story where I always told off the redneck neighbor, and goodness prevailed. Had she hacked my Uber account? Had she finally gotten fed up with her heretofore supporting role? "Fine," he said at last, cutting a beeline across the lawn. "But I want to see that area MOWED," (he waved his finger, "or I'll talk to the association!"
"We've already told them to fuck off, you inbred blue-collar mule!" She called after him, waving to a victorious palm. She turned with a smile, kissing me on the cheek. "Just came out to tell you breakfast is ready, babe."
Only family.
I was going to include a picture of myself or the Sexy Irish Wife, but I decided that the lot of you would probably bastardize it. Have a picture of my cats instead. They're gay and homosexual.
User Reviews
Submitted by DrSeussman (user info) at 2006-10-19 12:06:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Cat pictures! I got one like the multi color.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2006-10-19 06:58:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2006-07-13 15:34:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
These are just awesome, really and not in an overused teenager use of the word.
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2006-07-11 12:06:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2006-07-11 11:48:52 (#)
Ranking: 0
Brilliant, Mycroft, but you've only missed my entire point. Have you ever seen "Transylvania 6-500"? Corny 80's movie with Jeff Goldblum, Ed Begley Jr, and the guy who played Kramer among others. Jeff&Ed play newspaper reporters who've, much to Jeff's get sent off by a sensationalist editor on a story about Frankenstein. While Ed's glad to go, Jeff, as the hard-nosed journalist thinks it's crap.
Jeff: Facts, Gill! We write facts!
Ed: I always write facts!
Jeff: Remember that story you did? Where you were supposed to find people who look like their pets?
Ed: I did!
Jeff: No, you found people who LOOKED like animals and gave them pets!
Ed: That's called taking initiative!
Jeff: That's called making stuff up!
-------------------
+2 for this review.
I am going to have to rent this now.
Submitted by Spacegrass (user info) at 2006-07-10 09:20:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
My cats are not only gay they're brothers :-( I have incestual, gay cats.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-07-09 16:19:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I love these redneck stories.
Go SIW!!
Submitted by Istaros (user info) at 2006-07-08 19:08:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
5'8" *is* short. it's also Humphrey Bogart's height.
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-07-08 18:55:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
not gonna read it.
Submitted by ICO (user info) at 2006-07-08 18:43:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Harhar, nice writing.
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2006-07-08 13:54:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Teephphah (user info) at 2006-07-08 02:19:48 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2006-07-07 18:58:36 (#)
Ranking: 0
Oh, and it's my WIFE'S Harry Potter pillow. (Hiding his Harry Potter collector cards) NOT MINE.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Good Kung-Fu there Oxford. Anticipate your enemy's move and defend against it.
BUT YOU COMPLETELY IGNORED THE FUCKING DOLPHIN PILLOW RIGHT BEHIND IT.
Oh, sure, I can hear you now, "but dolphins are the only animals besides humans that engage in SEX(!!!!!) purely for fun!" But, you fail to realize that such a pillow conclusively PROVES that there IS NO Sexy Irish Wife at all, ERGO, YOU have never had sex, ERGO any cool points you would acquire from your connection to casual sex vis a vis dolphins, evaporates.
You sad, pathetic little Harry Potter & Dolphin Pillow Owner.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Such a shame.
And that's not even acknowledging your gay and homosexual cats.
----
Very clever, but it just wasn't clever enough. The dolphin pillow comment, you see, what just a veiled ruse to get me to PROVE the existence of the Sexy Irish Wife (hereafter SIW) by posting some manner of photo, which you would then use for rude and lascivious purposes. King's Bishop to Queen 3.
AND JUST BECAUSE I'M 3(.5) INCHES SHORTER THAN MY SISTER (who is an amazon giantess freak of nature) DOESN'T MAKE ME SHORT! STOP CALLING ME LITTLE OR SHORTY OR BEAN SPROUT MIDGET!!!!!!
Are you a father yet again?
Submitted by COMountain (user info) at 2006-07-08 12:17:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was an easy 2... then I saw your Harry Potter pillows.
...and it became a very difficult 2.
Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2006-07-08 12:03:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
auto Icarus redneck neighbour story +2
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-07-08 07:42:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by PerkMan (user info) at 2006-07-08 07:40:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
rednecks suck ass. sorry man..
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2006-07-08 07:26:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I have similar-looking cats but the couch and pillows they hang out on are far less... ...well, you know.
+2 cats.
Submitted by GrayGhost (user info) at 2006-07-08 03:03:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You own. SOMEONE'S gotta lifeguard the gene pool.
Submitted by williamson (user info) at 2006-07-08 02:45:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I've actually gone through your entire uber history and read all of these Neighbour-related posts...
Just FYI.
Submitted by Teephphah (user info) at 2006-07-08 02:19:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2006-07-07 18:58:36 (#)
Ranking: 0
Oh, and it's my WIFE'S Harry Potter pillow. (Hiding his Harry Potter collector cards) NOT MINE.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Good Kung-Fu there Oxford. Anticipate your enemy's move and defend against it.
BUT YOU COMPLETELY IGNORED THE FUCKING DOLPHIN PILLOW RIGHT BEHIND IT.
Oh, sure, I can hear you now, "but dolphins are the only animals besides humans that engage in SEX(!!!!!) purely for fun!" But, you fail to realize that such a pillow conclusively PROVES that there IS NO Sexy Irish Wife at all, ERGO, YOU have never had sex, ERGO any cool points you would acquire from your connection to casual sex vis a vis dolphins, evaporates.
You sad, pathetic little Harry Potter & Dolphin Pillow Owner.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Such a shame.
And that's not even acknowledging your gay and homosexual cats.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-07-08 00:43:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was just a fun read.
Submitted by DirtyDoubleEntendre (user info) at 2006-07-08 00:12:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Can you be gay and NOT homsexual?
Submitted by forensicgirl3 (user info) at 2006-07-07 23:22:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I like your wife.
Submitted by Creepy_guy (user info) at 2006-07-07 20:09:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
attn ghey cats!
Submitted by BranDo (user info) at 2006-07-07 19:45:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You've gotta love the Irish. I do and g'luck on landscaping.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-07-07 19:44:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was really confusing, but really good.
Submitted by MANICMOTHER (user info) at 2006-07-07 19:31:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 for the badass wife.
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2006-07-07 18:58:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Oh, and it's my WIFE'S Harry Potter pillow. (Hiding his Harry Potter collector cards) NOT MINE.