You know when you have one of those stories…it might be
about you, about a friend, about family.
But it just one of those stories….that all kinds of crazy shit can be
raining down and this story still makes you laugh. It’s one of those stories that you can’t let
go much to your family’s dismay.
You see, I have one of those stories. It some of the funniest shit that I have ever
known to go down, and it deserves to be re-told.
I love this place |
So a few years ago, my brother was planning to propose to
his fiancée during a family vacation in Hawaii. My Mom, Dad and Grandfather rented a
beautiful house on a stretch of ocean front property that is just about the
most gorgeous part of Hawaii known to man.
My brother and his (now) wife, didn’t want to be so close to the family,
so they camped a little bit away at a campsite on the beach. It was there on the beach that my brother
wrote “Will you Marry Me?” on the sand.
Awww, he is so romantic, and of course she wasn’t foolish and knew a
keeper when she had one, and said yes!
There is da man, playing in the waves |
After the romantic part, my brother goes to play in the ocean
while my sister in law heads to the house on the beach to shower and clean
up.
As she enters the beautiful cottage, she notices that my
Grandfather is asleep on the couch, not wanting to disturb him; she maneuvers
around the couch and goes into the bathroom.
Let’s step back here at take a moment to say that my
Grandfather was da bomb, old school military, former Political Science College
Professor and in general the most awesome guy that you could ever meet. So when he is sleeping or doesn’t feel well,
we all pretty much cater to his needs.
And that is how my Grandmother treated him, so after she passed away, it
was expected that we do the same. We
kept her tradition alive!
So here is my sister in law, giddy with excitement and in
the first blush of love taking a shower in the beach house. How can this shizzle get any better.
(Wait, did you hear the music??) Da, dun, Da dun….stealthily
approaching the shower…da, dun, da, dun.
(Just Kidding)
So while my newbie sister is washing that man right into her
hair, across the way is my Dad. He has
just spent the day, gloriously hacking at little balls on the driving range,
while my Mom suntans her beautiful body on the beach. ( I would just like to say, thank GOD for
those genes, one day I hope to look JUST LIKE her).
But wait, what is that???
Was that a gurgle, a pucker, no, no, no…it was a turtle! Startled, my Dad realizes that if he doesn’t
hop foot it back to the beach house he is going to shit his pants on the
driving range. Teeth clenched, sphincter
sucked into ass cheeks to prevent leakage, he hurdles his ass onto the golf
cart and goes tearing back to the beach house.
Running (naw, he is too gimpy, it’s more of a Texas two-step
shuffle) he enters the house, blowing past Grandpa snoozing on the couch, tears
open the door and begins to reign a shit on his porcelain god, so bad was this
poop that even angels and small celestial beings would of cried due to the
stench.
Realizing that someone is in shower, my Dad says, “Hello”. A small feminine voice responds, “Hello”.
It’s during this time that my sister in law, while engulfed
in the green fog, has proceeded to wash her hair over a dozen times. Each time, she brings down the shampoo to
cover her face so that she can inhale hibiscus scented old man funk. She is slowly counting the moments for her
eyes to stop burning, chanting to herself that nose hairs will grow back,
breathe through your mouth, short pants…its OK….ITS OK…OMG…MAKE IT STOP. (See, she thinks it my Grandfather and wants
to be all respectful and not shout out, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP DROPPING YOUR
FUNK ENLACED DEUCE.
Just keep washing, just keep washing |
And what is the first thing that you do when you have
dropped a bomb of that magnitude? FUCK
YEAH, you shuck your clothes and wash that ass.
Now, let’s take another pause – see there was an incident…..yeah…..my
Dad twisted and lost something…..something that causes us to go into fits of
hysterics when we get tanked at the holidays.
Let’s just say, that two walnuts are always better than one. One is funny, one is scary, one is a lonely
number.
Okay, so here is the deal…..She’s in the shower making a gas
mask out of shampoo and the old man is naked, ready to get his funkafied ass
into the shower for some cleaning. He
pulls back the curtain, and steps into the shower.
They make eye contact……..the shit literally hits the
fan! She screams, and tries to cover her
parts…He screams….tries to hop out of the shower…hopping on one foot with one
(snicker snicker)…He screams my Mom’s name and runs out of the bathroom.
He runs into the bedroom slamming the door and in walks my
Mom. “WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN,
WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU, OHMYGOD…(insert my Mom’s name). HOLY SHIT.
So my sister in law runs furiously back to her tent and to
my brother. OHMYGOD, she tells my
brother, OHMYGOD.
Dinner that night was an awkward affair, well for two of the
parties. My Mom and Brother spent most
of the evening desperately trying not to snicker.
So every time we get together, this is my favorite story….and
really it’s my husband’s favorite story and my brother’s favorite story, and my
Mom’s favorite story (deep down she admits it).
We tease my sister in law mercilessly, asking her what one walnut looks
like, we torture her with telling her when we are going to the bathroom or
shower, and you know what that hooka takes the jokes. She is a fabulous sport! (Next time will tell the story of her getting
into bed with me and my hubby…just kiddin sista).
Until then I will leave you with a teaser for when my other
sister in law met dead penis.
So BIOTCHES, whatcha got to top that?
LOL now that's a story that will never die. One walnut at least might not be as blinding as two.
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