Fucking fuckmunches
I have just heard that my father has spent the afternoon talking with Jim. Now most of you won't know who the hell Jim is as I haven't ever spoken of him, mercifully he exited my life 2 years ago and I felt like I was rid of him (that fact also made my last year of Sixth Form the best of my life). Put simply if my father offers anything and I mean anything to that fat piece of shit, mother loving ass-licking syccophantic fuckwit I'm going to confront him and articulate my, and my family's exact feelings on the matter.
I felt like spending some time to explain Jim further but then I realized that nothing could really do a better job of demonstrating my feelings about him than a my journal entries during a time when he was at the 'zenith of his powers' of manipulation over my father.
The following was written about 2 years ago.
"INTRO
Hiya, after many failed attempts to keep a diary I feel that now I can finally make a commitment. I'm 17 now, my Nonna just passed away and I am at war with a perpetually oozing 54 year old sycophantic arsewipe ex-taxi driver from Colchester who is currently getting free board, food and shit for surfing the net to find Q's for his game whilst maiming my family life. The battlefield is most commonly the trench warfar of the dinner table
we are seated as below
___TWAT (aka Jim)___TOM__
/ MUM |
| DAD
\___SPAG___FRANK ___ME___/
Jim begins the meal by sticking his head up dad's arse, unplugging it only to stick his foot in his mouth, on these rare occaisions where he isn't licking dad's shoes or making lame threats to me (or indeed lame jokes) my sister and I pelt him with the best zingers you have ever heard mwahaha.. Spag is on a role at the moment and she appears to be in good form =].
Jim drives dad to work utilising his immense knowledge of:
a) Cantonese
b) the Legal profession and Business sense
c) well.. Everything.
In actuality Jim has knowledge on 3 completely different subjects:
a)Taxi Driving
b) Turf Engineering
c) Fucking up familys (he knows how, he did a great job on his own one so now he has a new challenge)
So With that I'll get on with my life, read on and enjoy, but first my own mantra and groove I live by:
My Nonna died 2 weeks ago, her death was sudden but she seemed to know and had made peace with all her previous enemies, she spoke with her sister. My Great Aunty Jilly and made up, after 4 years. Out of all those people she called she had time to speak to me. She phoned me the day before she passed away. In this call she told me to "Keep looking after the family" "your brothers and your sisters" And to "Keep helping out your mum because she needs all the help she can get". This is now my Modus Operandi. My reason for living, I have a purpose now. So I intend to get on with it. You only live once, My Nonna showed me that too.. Now I have to get on with living. Enjoy my diary of life for this 17 year old in 2001--->.
Saturday, 5th of May 2001
Today was spent in a typically lathargic manner. A breakfast of my usual egg&rice made up for the nutrition early on and we (siblings and I) vegged out in front of MTV. We had already ordained that today should be spent by the pool, loafing. So after dad said he was going to get ready I headed off to my room and got changed as normal, shorts, T-shirt, shades and the obligatory moccassins (after an incident last week I won't be leaving them out in the sun <8O ow! ow! ow! ow!).
I slapped on tonnes of factor 15 and steadily got into the pool, flanked by posey 40 year olds but reasuringly Jimless... Bliss. Swam for a while, then sat out reading magazine whilst Dad finally gets into the water (All that while I was in he spent reading), doh!
Head back to house and grab one of Mum's Italian Orangy bottly things.. Sweet at first taste then sudden kickback which tastes like you've just gargled cammal piss.. Needless to say only 3 sips actually taken. Then I turned out into the sittingroom and was greeted with a view of Jim's arse, (I daresay I still need counselling) there he was doing the garden (About time to fucking &*^% layabout!!!) With Uncle Jeremey, Alas I think he too has fallen prey to the fattwat's sycophantic slobbering.. Darn, I thought out of all of the Swaine 2nd Gen he would be the best hope, with him down there's no stopping Jim from maiming my Upper family life, sadly this day will also be a doomsday for my internal family life, read on.. Sorry for the news.
I got him a drink of Water, since I was feeling nice.. Then I vegged out once again (we were all wiped out after the sun, i'm kinda brown at the moment =]) everyone else came in.. Then they vegged out.. Then after a long while I got up and played some more Biliardino (after having surfed for cool tables to purchase) the game was frenetic to say the least as I had WD40'd up the poles leading to abusive slipperyness. After a whole lot of this came dinner where twat still attended (Darn I had hoped his gardening antics would have rendered him unable to rise off his fatarse and eat (but then is there anything, which could stop that &^%$^&$% eating? I didn't think so).
I had been campaigning for us to head off to Dan Ryans tomorrow so I casually mentioned it to dad, sadly just as I had tried to stop it happening the venture was brought out into the open and I motioned vigourously for my siblings to stop discussing it lest the bastard overhear, sadly they didn't get the message and the whole thing dragged on for about half a minute!!!! Nooooooo! but then it faded just as quickly as it had arised, I breathed a sigh of relief and continued eating the cotage pie (in small portion size as that is all we seem to eat
So anyhow I was content with the topic not being taken any further, but then, just as Spag and me had settled down into some vintage friends (the one with the breast-milk tape) Twat started speaking to dad, once again he waffled on for ages, a mix of buttlicking and complete and utter pomposity passed by the ears of my naive parent (in this respect he is) then I overheard the mention of Dan Ryans, My heart sank, then sped up and I breathed heavily, then finally as if to twist the knife Dad gave Jim the Alright to &^$% come along with us.. I snapped and had to run off upstairs to avoid blowing my &^% top.
Let me explain why. Jim has slowly assimalated my uncles and my father, it has taken a while but now he has a strong foothold in the upper family. However the internal family is another matter, his progress has been slow and Mum and I have made him pay for every inch he has gained.. Dearly. Sadly mum wasn't here (she's in Italy following Nonna's death) so she is unable to hold the fort in this instance and fulfil her role of Jim-Buffer, now I'm a good buffer for my siblings, if Jim lays in I set him straight with a mix of Spag's and My wit
>>(ROFLMAO at dinner Jimm says how tanned he's getting and how he was 'posing' outside, I nonchalantly said you needed to have something people liked looking at in order to pose and then suggested he was as black as a pint of guiness now, the fool being so thick didn't notice the hidden meaning as the white frothy head on a guiness is kinda similar to his overall lack of any colour in his rapidly depleting hairline ROFL! Spag got it though mwahahahaha!)<<
However, a buffer for Dad I am not and so I cannot prevent events, which mom would normally stop. This was such an event and I could only watch and listen with tears in my eyes as it played out..
In his campaign to infiltrate out lives the twat has managed to infiltrate many of our favourite traditions, Grappas (he had to learn how to 'like' Italian food for that one.. The Jockey Club (the first to fall thanks to weak willed dad) The only vestige of the once proud family tradition we had, still untainted by the twat was Dan Ryans, the breakfast that is. There is something sacred about this meal. maybe its the fact that its been a favourite tradition of ours for.. well ever or because we go there near enough every weekend, to the tsim sai tsui one to watch the boats come in as we pile on the pancakes and other American delights. Whatever it is its ours and its special to us... well to me anyway. Mum's absence only makes things worse as he is almost 'taking her place'. Now that great bastillion has fallen... I fear with Uncle Jermey and the Chicago breakfast, falling in one day, its all over for us in this war, the only thing we have left is our dignity and that I intend to preserve..
Whilst the others go off and put up with that fat asshole sucking mother fucking piece of shit eating buttweasel facistic arsemonger I will stay home tomorrow and call mum and complain... thats about right...
Well I guess I better go to sleep. The following update I write tomorrow will, I suppose, clean things up in this respect.
G'night
Johnlouis
Tuesday 8th of May
I went to Dan Ryans in the end, it was a ridiculous affair. Jim just sucked up all the while and I sat opposite him. In the end I just stopped talking, its pointless speaking with Jim, even more pointless trying to speak to Dad with Jim around. Communication is a big part of todays entry.
Anyhow Mum got back, I ran from the bus (As fast as I could in the 99% humidity!) and gave her a massive hug, missed her lots. She had come, laden with a massive selection of Italian tastibits. Si!! FORZA ITALIA =P (which I shall undoubtedly be eating for the rest of the month en masse =] ).
Anyhow the days passed with little event until today. After dinner I brought up the subject of global warming and mentioned how George W Bush had gone against the Kyoto agreement linking it with the topic of Italy we had just discussed (we love it. We don't want to let jim in with us etc) during, which Jim made a snide attempt to get himself a possible future pass to Italy with us:
"I would reaaaaally love to go to Italy"
"Dyuknow I really must got there sometime"
Mum and I exchanged glances of contempt.
So I said that Venice will be underwater pretty soon and Bush is responsible for not acting on the subject of global warming. At this point Jim enacts.. TO A TEE no-less, the In-duh-vidual debating technique as described by scott adams:
1) In-duh-vidual takes your arguement and magnifies it to reidiculous extent
"well y'see what your saying is EVERYONES TO BLAME! Just by turning a light on !"
2) In-duh-vidual uses elaborate and thouroughly unrelated metaphor to explain why he is right
"Back in my day when places closed loadsa people lost their jobs so people will loose jobs if he does it"
3) In-duh-vidual claims high ground
"You see your wrong there!"
Ahem... heres the points:
Me} GWB acted irresponsibly by not dealing with global warming
Dad} well he was only doing what he was voted in for, infact everyone is to blame really
Jim} (see debating technique mentioned above)
me} Does that really change my arguement? is he not, as dad said, to blame?
Jim} Yes but you can't blame him for everything can you?! We were doing this aaaaaages ago!!
Me} I didn't say he was the only one to blame did I?
Jim} Ahhhhhh but you said "insert part one of in-duh-vidual debating technique here"
Me} You what?
This goes on for about half an hour.. me reaffirming my arguement.. Jim not disproving it. Ahem......
My reason for being so pissed and hurt at this outcome is as follows:
1) I like debate, I like court from what I have seen, Jim is master of all things, including 'legal stuff' as he puts it. I enjoy whupping his sorry little butt in arguements because I convince dad and dad whupps jim down with my arguement (he won't listen to it when it comes to me) here dad shifted to Jims side of the issue but actually emphasized my statement. If everyone is to blame then isn't Bush somebody? Dad failed me and without dad to voice my arguement I am a lone 17 year old battling for my Father's attention and in some respects, I confess, his approval against a battered out old duffer whose argument is total crud but won't listen to any other opinion.
2) Dad is a rare entity indeed, he is kind, loving, logical and yet he is swayed massively by Jim. Over the period mum was away for I didn't manage to speak one word to him as Jim was up his arse 24-7. Jim and I 'compete' for my father's attention. Waffling on in his sycophantic drones aaaaaall the car journey to dad's work then aaaaaall the way back then when he gets in and AFTER dinner is not enough for Jim, he has to speak to dad during dinner. Over the course of the repas this evening I spoke the following to dad:
# Idle chit chat about food/school (1 min)
# that time when we were in senegalia in the house with the train running round it (2 mins)
Thats it.. I had hoped to get his view on the Bush's actions re: the Kyoto Accords when Jim opened his ugly gob and started the whole arguement. I don't speak to my father anymore... If I were to dye my hair blonde today and buy eminem albums the transformation would be complete.
So you see I am less than happy. I am sorrowful and hurt, it feels like Jim is worse than ever and I doubt I will ever be able to synthesize any more false civility towards him. *sigh* I hope I can make it through tomorrow.....
Cya
Johnlouis "
I hope that better explains my position. If need be I'll force my father to read it. I speak for all in my family when I say
"we all fucking hate Jim"
Hey.. You know what? That'd make a kickass T-Shirt to wear about the house if he doesn't get the message.
Later
John
Posted by John Swaine at August 19, 2003 05:17 PM