Friday Guest Mock: Fambly

2009 December 4
by mockers

This weekly installment of our Guest Mock series is being handled by the lovely and talented Zazu.  Jeff and I really appreciate the contribution.  She’s always funny and she’s building herself a nice little fan base around here.  Kind of makes me wonder if she can be funny several days a week or if she’d end up bitter and disgruntled…quickly pounding out easy jokes about how Susan Boyle looks like an ugly man…huh…I guess only time will tell.

On with the mocking:

famblyI always laugh so much when reading about Eninen that I always wish I could do a piece on them too. Then it hit me.  Why should I borrow someone else’s relatives when I have perfectly good ones of my own who are a gold mine of material? It should be easy.  I won’t need to exaggerate or make things up.  For instance, at every fambly reunion we congregate at my uncle’s house and sit around on his carport eating potluck off of limp paper plates so no one has to do dishes.  Each year my aunt, the oldest sister, will sample everyone’s special homemade dish more than once, concentrating most on her ‘brosia which is concoction of fruit cocktail and real whipped cream.  She has got to be lactose intolerant. She will wait for a lull in the conversation and then lean all of her bulk waaaay over to one side.  Out comes a big noisy fart.  Once she has everyone’s attention she will grab the nearest innocent and accuse loudly, “Why did YOU do that, Miss ASS-terbilt?”  After a while, before it gets dark, she will let us all know she is going to “hitch up her titty-strap” and go home.

Some bloggers that we know are lucky.  Said blogger has gluten-free, translucent producing, college professors in the fambly to work with.  I don’t have such.  In my fambly there are only plain old southern rednecks and I doubt any of them know what gluten is. No one in our fambly has even been to college except my sister.  Twenty years ago she got a two year secretarial “science” certificate from the local community college.  You know, one of those “degrees” offered by institutions to bring in the bucks from small redneck towns where high school grads are rare.  After graduation she landed a real good a job at the local toilet paper factry driving a forklift.  She worked there until her back couldn’t take it anymore and she had to go out on disability.

But now her daughter is currently carrying on the tradition.  She is going to college too.  My sister made sure she got the tuition money out of her ex by threatening to beat his current wife’s ass.  Daughter is attending the local technical “college” to learn to fix people’s hair.  I wonder what the degree for that is.  It must be a bachelor of arts since fixin hair is surely an art.  She has already dyed hers and her mother’s hair all kinds of pretty colors.

I also have a brother who can’t decide what he wants to do when he grows up.  He is only 57 but he has already been a greaser, a soldier, a casino bouncer and a cowboy.  He was a teenager in the sixties but didn’t become a flower child like everyone else.  Way before the Fonz, he walked around with his hair brylcreemed back, cigarettes rolled up in his T-shirt sleeve, and wondered why he couldn’t get a date.

Do you want to know what he does for a living?  Nothing at the moment.  He is trying to claim disability from the guvrmint because of the fall he says he took his rodeo days.  He has a big buckle and spurs to prove he can ride a horse. The main job he had that actually paid money was his stint in the military.  His used to escort the bodies of soldiers who died on active duty back home for Uncle Sam.  This is the job they give only to certain select service men.  He enlisted after 1974 when he figured it would be more fun to drink beer on a military base than finish school, but he tells people he was put on the death detail because of the post traumatic stress he suffered during the Vietnam War.  He showed me his military record once and the word Vietnam is not in there anywhere but that doesn’t stop him from telling me about his experiences in “The War”.  He got stabbed once by the cong and everything.

After he “served his time” he went and got a job as a security guard at a casino because they let him carry a gun.  That turned out to be less fun than it sounded so he took out a twenty thousand dollar federal student loan to go to truck driver school.  He never drove any trucks that I know of except his Ford Ranger.  After that, he bought a “ranch” in Texas but never had any livestock.  He explains the “ranch’s” foreclosure to people by telling them he lost his house in the aftermath of 9/11.  The “ranch” is in Texas.  The towers were in New York.  Was there some other plane we don’t know about?

He has been getting notices asking him to pay back the truck driver loan.  This has been going on awhile.  In the past he would just move but now they have found him again.  He calls the other night to ask me if he could have his allotment check sent to me.  I can manage his money for him and the guvrmint won’t know where it is.  Otherwise the rat bastard, Uncle Sam, is going to garnish a veteran’s retirement to collect on the &^*$# loan.  I said no.  He tried to talk me into his scheme by adding that he was also fearful that Donna, his eighth wife whom he hasn’t gotten around to divorcing yet, will get it when he dies young just like our dad did.

God, I am glad none of you know my real name.  Eninen are just in-laws.  These people are my blood.

If you’d like to contribute a Friday Guest Mock please send it to mockable[at]  If it’s funny and won’t get us sued, we’ll most likely feature it at the site.  And don’t forget to include the address to your blog or website, so we can link back at ya.  Thanks!

3 Responses leave one →
  1. 2009 December 4
    In Agony, GA permalink

    Zazu! Too funny – you could write a book just on your bro. He got stabbed by the ‘cong!

  2. 2009 December 4
    Vicki permalink

    It all seems so familiar. Have I read this somewhere before? No wait, it’s my backwards-ass fambly story, too. When we are with them my husband often wonders aloud where the Hell I came from. He thinks I must be a foundling or something and I’m a fer piece from a sophisticate.

  3. 2009 December 4

    Excellent mock, Zazu! I seem to know these people too, though. Are we related?

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