Maryland Captivity - Beautiful Swimmers
Accounts from a strange family
For corrections or complaints:
austen.patterson@gmail.com
Hit Somebody
Yesterday was easter. I celebrated the rebirth of my savior diligently. Too diligently, actually, since I feel like hell today. I have 8 cousins, all except one between the ages of 13 and 16. This meant that easter dinner was dominated by fart jokes, “That’s what she said” rejoinders, and talk about anything but Jesus. One of my cousins brought his girlfriend and proceeded, as far as I can tell, to take her out back into the garage and bang her. I overheard snatches of their passion as I smoked a cigarette and tried to figure out why my grandparents’ next door neighbor is keeping roughly 30 squirrels in individual cages scattered about his backyard.
After dinner, we did what any completely areligious, alcoholic family would do: We clustered around the piano and sang Auld Lang Syne, God Bless America and, as a concession to Jesus, Dredle Dredle Dredle. One of my 13 year old cousins came up to me and asked “Why do we live in a family of drunks?” Before I could answer, my uncle (who hates my father and, by proxy, me) approached me, leaning in so I could smell his whiskey sodden breath, and simply said, “You disgust me.” Then he walked away, and with him went most of my hopes that things are, in fact, getting better in my life….
