Dreaded Aunties

[den]

Dad has four sisters. They are the most embarrassing people I know, and one of my dreaded Aunties is visiting.

I love all of them. But...

Aunty Jenny is not capable of saying anything without referring to a bodily process and/or function and/or oriface. She says these things loudy. Usually in shopping centres. And always while I'm there. I end up spending all my time shushing her or making sure everyone knows She's Not With Me. Even going for a drive can end with me running off the road in fright. "Look at that mountain!" she'll say, pointing through the windscreen. "It looks like a big, floppy dick resting on the balls!" In the middle of Tasmania is a pair of mountains called The Thumbs. aunty Jen calls them The Nuts, because she can never remember the real name.

Aunty Colleen is a bogan who has velvet pictures of Elvis, fridge magnets that say No Bullshit ond so on, and one of those awful singing fish. She asks me questions like "Have you found a good woman yet Denny? Or would you prefer a bad woman?" to which I reply "Oh fer FUCKS sake, Col!" She laughs at that.

Aunty Lorrain isn't as much of a bogan as Aunty Col, but she enjoys telling me Things I'd Rather Not Know. She keeps telling me things until I hide under a bed.

I love Aunty Sue to death. She's visiting from Franklin and will be staying for a week. This afternoon she interrupted my essy writing to show me some turned huon pine. At first I thought it was a rolling pin, 12" long and about 2"thick. One end is opviously a handle but the other end is curiously rounded. Then she turned it around and I could see it in detail.

It's a big wooden dick.

I'm glad Aunty Sue is the quiet one. I'd die if she wasn't.

Comments

[tropism.livejournal.com]

I'll trade your aunts for mine -- two crazy bitches, one of which is on Prozac and thus tolerable, the other of which is not, and is not.

If both of my aunts died tomorrow, I'd cry -- mostly because it would mean that I'd have to go to funerals with my relatives and that I wouldn't get two seperate dead aunt days, but just one...

Now see that's the kind

[bearblue.livejournal.com]

of aunt I want to be, the kind that makes stories in the nieces and nephews heads.

Look at it this way. You'll remember them forever...*grins*

[tsjafo.livejournal.com]

Your Aunts sound like real characters *grin* Lovely one and all!

er..uh..

[http://users.livejournal.com/_zephyra_/]

I don't suppose you could ever ask Sue where she...? I mean, something like that must be hard to find, unless you know where to look, I suppose.. and she does... so..err....
*blush*

I want one!

Re: er..uh..

[dewhitton.livejournal.com]

someone made it for her out of huon pine

Trade ya

[micheinnz.livejournal.com]

Your four embarrassing Aunties for the TEN bogan aunties on my Dad's side, five of whom turned up on my doorstep on January 2001. With no warning.

[tatterdemalion.livejournal.com]

LOL

I imagine you're in a permanant state of cringe atm

You'll have to tell us more

[tygermoonfoxx.livejournal.com]

I take it a "bogan" would be our equivalent to a redneck or a hick?

ROFL You have interesting relatives. Trade you the loudmouthed one for my grandmother. She yells "Yoo hoo!" at the top of her lungs when she gets lost (which is quite often) and does stupid things like throwing away her underwear and then telling everyone about it and THEN asking you to sniff her to see if she smells :P

[micheinnz.livejournal.com]

Kinda. They're more like petrolhead/metalheads.

They're a distinct Australian/NZ subculture.

[dewhitton.livejournal.com]

Bogans are sort of like rednecks, but not exactly like them. You can be a bogan without owning a ute (pick-up) or wearing flannel shirts.

They're a Aus/NZ thing.

[resolute.livejournal.com]

Bwaa-ha-hah-haaah!

My definite sympathies. *snort* . . .

[bandicoot.livejournal.com]

ROFL! That's one of the funniest, most well-written bits I've read in a while ;)