True to Leung family tradition, another holiday spent at a casino which continues to exploit American Indian conditions and reduce a culture to cheap commercialism while big business reaps the pennies from the mindless pockets of schmucks who think fake waterfalls are a measure of good times.
But I'm not bitter.
Above is a diagram of yesterday's sleeping arrangement. As you can see, my body is horizontally lain at the feet of three troubled youngsters, each with monstrous snores as if all the flem in their body depended on it and a habit for kicking sleeping others in the chest. Uncle had it worst since he's spread out on the floor. Aunt with a budding gambling habit on the other bed. Mother in center. Grandma's under medicated (there is such a thing) self yonder in big chair. After getting kicked in the face for the 2438409238th time, I managed to get two whole hours of sleep before Baby #3 (yes, the one who chased me with a steak knife at 2 years old) woke up screaming. Somehow, all three woke up at 7 am, two more hours later, and proceeded to shake me awake to play. I made several death threats, to be taken very seriously, but like life, that also goes ignored. I'm not sure but I think I punched somebody in the face. It might (or might not) have been my brother. I guess we'll never know.
Anyway, I didn't even get hit on once. What the fuck, Connecticut? Fuck you.
No comments:
Post a Comment