I’m surprised Sunshine and Mumbles aren’t up here already. From what I understand, there’s nothing but arguments in North (or is it South?) Carolina these days. And S&M are free to take Nancy’s sunflower car at any time, and drive to our house. I’m shocked they haven’t yet stormed out in a huff.
Sunny is reportedly hitting the “antibiotics” pretty heavily, and is nodding out like Sid Vicious on a regular basis. She falls asleep while talking, and one time fell asleep while walking through the room with a hot cup of coffee. Heh. I guess she’s always falling down, because she can’t maintain a state of consciousness.
And Sunshine and Mumbles are arguing constantly… the same goes for Sunshine and Nancy.
Nancy bought a package of normal people cookies at the grocery store, for the translucents’ lunches, and Sunshine was reportedly eating them “hand over fist.” Nancy said, “I thought you were diabetic?” And everything spiraled downward from there.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a dietitian, too?!” Sunny shouted. Nancy just rolled her eyes, and asked her to please leave at least three cookies, so she could put them in her kids’ lunches the next morning.
“I didn’t know I had to ask permission for every bite I take in this house. Is it OK if I finish this cookie I’m eating now, or should I wrap what’s left in tin foil and put in the refrigerator?” Sunshine asked with sarcasm, probably before collapsing in the kitchen floor after falling asleep.
The next morning Nancy came downstairs, and started packing the see-thrus’ lunches. And the cookie package was still in the cabinet, but it was empty.
Later the same day, Sunny was reportedly rooting around inside Nancy’s refrigerator, buried to the waist. Nancy asked what she was looking for, and Sunshine extracted herself, and said in some kind of demented voice, “Where does he hide his special creamer?”
Nancy said, “Wha’?” And Sunny proceeded to accuse Nostrils, Nancy’s husband, of “hiding” his special coffee creamer, so nobody else could have any. Nancy told her they don’t use creamer, and have never bought it. “Bullshit,” she answered in her weird-ass REDRUM voice, and continued looking for the non-existent “special” creamer.
Toney talked with Sunshine on the phone a few days ago, and her mother was seething with anger, for no apparent reason. Toney mentioned that our boys are busy with swimming, and between the two of them, will have six meets over the next eight days.
“Why do they do all that?” Sunny spat. “What do they get out of it? Are they paid??”
“Yes, mother,” Toney answered. “They’re both professional athletes. They have quite a few endorsement deals, too.”
Yeah, I’m no doctor, but I suspect Sunshine isn’t faithfully following the directions on her prescription bottles. I believe she might be double or triple-dipping on her “arthritis medication.” It sounds like she’s now lapsing into Baby Jane territory.
And they’ll all be up here in a few days. And mister, when Nancy’s the voice of reason… something’s WAY out of kilter. Should be interesting. I hope nobody’s stabbed in their sleep, or something. Shit, I’ll probably be lying there every night with one eye open.
What are your plans for the holidays this year? Are you traveling, or staying home? Will you have a house full of people, or what? Please tell us about it in the comments.
Also, if you have any Christmas horror stories to tell, we’d like to hear those as well. Can you remember any especially awful Christmas get-togethers, or maybe an office holiday party where some shithead got drunk and put his penis in the crab dip? If so, we need to know about it.
And I’ll be back tomorrow, my friends.
Have a great day.
I’ve spent the last hour or so listening to the Shangra-Las. You have no idea how out-there this performance was in 1965. Enjoy…
Swami Bologna says
Great clip. And live, no lip-synching! My favorite line from that song is: “Dirty fingernails / Oh boy, what a prize.”