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At one point Cousin Steve and I did fall asleep-when we went to go visit little Aunt Rose-who is 3 foot 6 on a good day. We called her midget Rose, but that is not politically correct so we changed it to Aunt Rosie. Midget Rose-er, Aunt Rosie is Steve's mom. I know. It is like when I was a kid and we had a toy poodle named Mandy who weighed all of 5 lbs. and she went and got herself pregnant (actually, my parents paid some lady to let her dog have sex with my dog-poor Mandy, she just wanted to find a warm spot to curl up and nap in and her masters go and pay some dog to have sex with her. I would have been so pissed.) Anyway, Mandy had a great big puppy-just one-who was 3/4 the size of her when he was born. Mandy never spoke to my parents again after that. Every time I look at Aunt Rosie and Cousin Steve I think of Mandy and her big puppy. I don't know why...
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A-hem.
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A while ago I took pics off of the Six-Pack because of some of you wackos out there-you know who you are-but seeing as my family is made up of attention getting whores, I decided to post some pics from Cousin Steve's Birthday party Saturday night.
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No, I do not have any pics of Friday night. We didn't even bring our cameras along. Pffft. We aren't stupid.
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Here is a unusual moment between Steve and I where we are both calm and standing still. This does not happen often. Notice how I have my hands in a death grip on him-that was to hold him down.
Do you see this? How old are you Steve? Seriously. Do you know that I have no less than 142 pictures like this from my childhood? You see... I am the cool one-so he always had to try and make me look bad. Nice try pansie.
Here is the famous Aunt Barb-you all know her and love her-ain't she beautiful? Next to her is my Cousin Heather who none of you know... but I could change that real quick. She is some big shot in her hometown-runs it or something like that. Maybe I should change her name before I go on seeing as she does not want to get fired.... let's call her Cousin SugarTits. That is a good one.
Here is the Cousin Steve family-aren't they just adorable? If I ever get so drunk as to get a sex-change, I would marry a girl just like Christina. She is a superwoman-and she does it all with a smile on her face. If anyone should have the title "June Cleaver" it is her. She made the most amazing beef sandwiches that yes, my vegetarian ass ate and moaned in ecstasy the entire time. I knew I was back home when food was turning me on.
Can you see the affect of no sleep and 17 beers starting to set in on this picture? Aunt Judi gave Steve a dollar for his birthday... score! It's the little things that mean the most.
Do you see this? How old are you Steve? Seriously. Do you know that I have no less than 142 pictures like this from my childhood? You see... I am the cool one-so he always had to try and make me look bad. Nice try pansie.
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Here is the famous Aunt Barb-you all know her and love her-ain't she beautiful? Next to her is my Cousin Heather who none of you know... but I could change that real quick. She is some big shot in her hometown-runs it or something like that. Maybe I should change her name before I go on seeing as she does not want to get fired.... let's call her Cousin SugarTits. That is a good one.
Here we are again... Aunt Barb made us take every picture at least three times all night but we had to change our positions each time. Something Uncle Don taught her I am sure. *wink*
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AND... here we are again, Aunt Barb, SugarTits and myself. This photo was Aunt Barb's idea too. She said that if we turned around and the whipped our heads back right as the camera was taking the picture we would look like supermodels with our long flowing hair. I don't know where Aunt Barb comes up with these kookie ideas.
AND... here we are again, Aunt Barb, SugarTits and myself. This photo was Aunt Barb's idea too. She said that if we turned around and the whipped our heads back right as the camera was taking the picture we would look like supermodels with our long flowing hair. I don't know where Aunt Barb comes up with these kookie ideas.
"So a Priest and a rabbi walks into a bar...."
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Another photographic genius of Aunt Barb's. Cousin Steve's mannipples actually are in the shape of clovers-it is something he was self conscious about in high school--locker room bullies and all--but he has learned to embrace his clover mannipples and can laugh at himself now, which is a good thing because we have been laughing at him for years.
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Here is my Aunt Judi (with an "i") why do I always say it that way? Well... it seems Aunt Judi was born a Judy but didn't like the "y" so one day she decided to change it to an "i". True story-crazy as it sounds. Aunt Judi wears more gold on her fingers than King Tut himself and she has the prettiest nails around. I make sure I am always nice to Aunt Judi-you never know what she is going to do with all of that gold.
Here is the Cousin Steve family-aren't they just adorable? If I ever get so drunk as to get a sex-change, I would marry a girl just like Christina. She is a superwoman-and she does it all with a smile on her face. If anyone should have the title "June Cleaver" it is her. She made the most amazing beef sandwiches that yes, my vegetarian ass ate and moaned in ecstasy the entire time. I knew I was back home when food was turning me on.
Can you see the affect of no sleep and 17 beers starting to set in on this picture? Aunt Judi gave Steve a dollar for his birthday... score! It's the little things that mean the most.
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I would post more, but you do not want to see SugarTits dancing on the table or our Cousin Johnny tossing Steve out the back door and then telling him that he is using the wrong gasoline in his truck and what was he thinking? "Just deal with it and quit being a pansie." That is what Johnny said-honest. He talks like that and we all listen because he is bigger than us and he has the nicest smile this side of the Dan Ryan. I am going to do an entire post on Johnny soon-just because I think he is that cool. He is a man's man, a tough guy, a loner, a rebel... and when his wife calls on his cell phone he rants and raves about having a "leash" and slowly puts his boots on and heads home to his house full of boys-all boys, and one wife who rules the roost. But he is in charge. No doubt about that. Uh-huh.
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Sigh.
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