Hot Child In The City
So, the death parade in my family marches on intrepidly to the pearly gates. I should warn you before you feel too bad for me that this time is not nearly as sad as when my grandmother died. My dad’s uncle passed away last weekend. My brother called me on Saturday morning before noon, breaking a cardinal family rule. I answered the phone, saying, “Did you forget how to tell time?” He replied, “No, Uncle Harold died.” “Of what?” “I don’t know, I’m going back to bed.” “OK, later.”
I later found out that Harold had some sort of aneurysm and had died of stomach complications during the night. He treated my dad like a son because he had estranged relations with his own two sons. You see, on the way to my parents ill-fated wedding, he, his wife Rita, and his two sons were in a horrible car accident. The accident rendered Aunt Rita unable to speak and mentally incompetent, and Harold took great care of her ever since.
The fallout resulted in tearing his family apart, and he ended up kicking his two sons out of his house. One of the sons, Mark, stayed in touch with my dad, and the other has been missing ever since. Mark spoke to his mom for the first time when he flew home for his father’s funeral. Weird and sad. Also, for those of you keeping track, they told my mom right before she walked down the aisle at her wedding that Harold’s family was all probably dead. Here comes the bride!
The funeral was this week, and I didn’t get to go to it. My Dad went and told Mark that I would help him take care of any legal matters since Harold did not leave a will. (Please have a will, people, for the sake of everyone.) My Dad loves to promise that I will do things for people, especially when I am unable to do them. Never mind the fact, that I am not at all qualified to help Mark do this, but it’s also probably illegal for me to try and practice New York law, which is where I think the will would have been made. Mark called me today, and I will call him back later to have the awkward conversation. God, lawyers are all such assholes!
Anyway, on a less sad note, one thing that I loved about Harold is that for most holidays, he would send money to my father to give to the kids. He would send $40, and designate $10 for my brother, $10 for my sister and $20 for me. No one knows why he sent me more money than the others, no one really talked about it, save for my bragging. But he did it, which leads me to believe that he died with killer instincts and great taste. R.I.P.
Ok, enough heavy shit…How about some unrelated topics for filler today?
So, it’s totally hot outside. I don’t know if you guys got the memo, but there are record-breaking high temperatures in Philadelphia. I feel like I am going to pass out every time I walk outside. It makes me very cranky. I kicked a homeless person today on my lunch break and THAT didn’t even make me feel better. I need some relief soon, or dog only knows what I will do.
Have you ever walked out of your apartment on the way to the gym and forgot that you didn’t put your shorts on and were standing outside in your hallway in just your boxer briefs? No? In that case, me neither.
My new summer guilty pleasure? Big Brother. I can’t stop watching it or reading about it online. My new summer reality tv boyfriend is Kaysar, an Iraqi national who brings a brooding hotness and strategic intelligence to my television screen 3 nights a week. He's hot. Whatever, don’t judge me.
Remember that time you went to the mall when you were home from college one summer, specifically to harass Jodie Sweetin from television’s Full House? Remember when you screamed asking her if she ever did doggy with Comet? Oh, that wasn’t you; that was me. Well, if you’re jealous and want to simulate the experience, go here, the One Stop Jodie Shop. As my friend MC, says, “Yes, it's the Web's premier Jodie Leanne Sweetin site. TV's "Full House"'s Stephanie Tanner gets the royal treatment here, with photos, sounds, live chat and, our favorite, a list of all the Stephanie books from the "Full House" books series! Titles include Hip Hop Till You Drop, The Dude of My Dreams and the extra creepy Daddy's Little Girl. Oh, and don't forget about Never Trust a Flamingo, in which Uncle Jesse drinks some punch spiked by a costumed Kimmy Gibler.” Delightful!
One of my friends was on the Howard Stern Show this morning competing to become his “hottest, most knowledgable” listener. Or something. She didn’t win, but she should have. And now, I know a celebrity.
They are rerunning the second season of Arrested Development this summer on FOX, starting this Friday at 8:00. It’s the funniest shit ever. Don’t believe me? See below, thanks.
I think I may walk home from work naked. Say something nice soon!