Who is your most embarrassing family member?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Do you have a member of the family (immediate or extended no more than one degree) that just makes you want to bury your head in the sand when you introduce them to your significant other or friends? Why are you embarrassed of them?

I have to say, I’m pretty lucky because my family doesn’t have any huge skeletons in the closet. If I had to name folks, though, it would be, unfortunately, my grandparents on my father’s side.

They might let slip a racist comment (though they are getting much better since they have 11 kids and many have married people of a different race - woo hoo!). My grandfather might swish his coffee in his mouth and talk about how Native Americans never really owned any land because they didn’t have a title - and if you don’t have a title, the land ain’t yers.

Until my aunt was divorced, though - it would have been her husband - Uncle Rog. Or, as I called him, “Pervert Uncle Rog.” He would pat his big-ass stomach and say, “Know why that’s so big?? It’s coiled up cock!.” To my friend, Pat, while in high school, no less. As if he cares how big Rog’s dick is.

How about your family? Who makes you cringe and why?

Tibs.

2

[sub]that would be me[/sub]

3

I WAS my ex-wife, but that doesn’t count anymore. My next older sister would probably fit the bill, although she ain’t so bad. Bi-polarity wasn’t diagnosed PROPERLY until she was about 27, and by the the drugs and booze had her outside the reach of decent treatment. She’s cleaner now, and MUCH more stable.

4

You’re from Kentucky, right?

5

My father, easily. Not even close to as bad as Uncle Rog though.

He cannot resist whistling. Nor can he do it well. Come out of a movie? He’s attempting to whistle the theme. In a restaurant? He’s whistling along with the music. In the car? Whistling along with the radio.

When he’s not whistling, he’s singing. Except, he doesn’t sing songs. He sings numbers. He just keeps counting in a weird singsong manner until someone tells him to shut the hell up.

Other than that, he’s a pretty cool guy. I don’t mind hanging out with him. I just mind hanging out with him in public.

6

I was going to say my dad, but that would be all issues and freudianism and whatnot, so i’ll just shut up. Anyway, it is him.

7

It would be impossible to pick just one. To give you some idea of the scope of things, let’s just say that I never watch shows like The Jerry Springer Show for fear of one day seeing one of my relatives on TV.

Aunt Compulsive Grocery Shopper
I have an Aunt that is crazy and bizarre in many ways. She is a large, unnatractive woman who wears horrible polyester pants suit that are one size too small. She is hard of hearing but refuses to get a hearing aid.

But perhaps the most bizarre is her compulsive grocery shopping. She shops so much that she fills her refrigerator, her kitchen cabinets, and then as a last resort her car. Now I suppose this would not be so bad if she at least limited herself to storing only NON-PERISHABLE foodstuffs in the car. Alas, she does not believe in limiting herself in this way.

One Thanksgiving when I was about 13, she came over early and thought she’d do us a favor by bringing the turkey (we were a poor family). She took the turkey out of the car and brought it to the kitchen. The turkey was blue.
We tried to politely decline, pointing out that it might be a little off. She insisted that the turkey was “just cold.”
We couldn’t convince her not to cook the turkey, so we let her put it in the oven. The smell was awful. Thankfully she left shortly after to spend Thanksgiving at her own house. We threw the turkey out.

Psycho Step Mother
My step mother and I do not get a long because she is a crazy psycho bitch. For this reason, I didn’t invite her to my wedding.

Her revenge was to send me an anonymous present. As I’m opening gifts, I get to one without a tag. So, I open the present which is a wrapped tin box (like a tin candy box. It contains a card and a bunch of pictures. The card contains an 8 page letter filled with expletives and death threats. The pictures are a collection of photos from childhood to my early 20’s. Some are just portions of pictures (everyone else having been cut out). Every single one has a black magic marker X drawn through it.

Oh yeah. Did I forget to mention that she’s also my Aunt (Mom’s older sister) and my Godmother? Did I also forget to mention that she got the pictures from my Grandmother (her mother)?

8

The Whole Side

Drunken rednecks, every last one of them. When you hear The Turkey in the Straw playing on a banjo, you know that my father’s side of the family is nearby.

I’m the oldest of about 16 cousins on that side. Of those 16:
[ul]
[li]7 have had babies out of wedlock and/or before age 19[/li][li]1 lives in a crack house[/li][li]5 routinely abuse drugs (and we’re not just talkin’ doobie here. We’re talkin’ crack, meth, etc.)[/li][li]I’m the only one to graduate high school. I have 3 that are still in high school, but my fingers aren’t crossed.[/li][li]Most have never had a job and/or have no intention of getting one.[/li][li]Among my cousins, only my half-sister (Dad’s other child, from another marriage) and I are decent people. Which is weird, because our father is quite the piece of work, too.[/li][/ul]

As for my father and his brothers & sisters:
[ul]
[li]The two sisters married drug-abusing wife-beaters who also abused their kids (my cousins).[/li][li]One brother is currently in The Joint for 11 counts of child sodomy. Some of those counts are his two stepdaughters, the rest are girls in his neighborhood.[/li][li]My father steals from his business partners, steals from his ex-wife, has stolen from my mom and has stolen from me. He’s currently living with a woman who’s younger than me :eek:! He collected about $80,000 in Workmen’s Comp from his employer while continuing to do night jobs with his business partners. Oh, and he almost always has an open Bud Light in his truck, while he’s driving. Asshole.[/li][li]With one exception, dad’s brothers and sisters are all drunken shitheads.[/li][li]The one exception is the brother who fled to another state before they had the chance to corrupt him, too. And he married a woman with the I.Q. of a sack of hammers, but that’s another story.[/li][/ul]

That’s my father’s side of the family. Hang around them for a few hours. They’ll suck the decency and sobriety right out of you.

9

Hoo boy. Don’t get me started.

For now, I’ll just describe the circus theme running through my family.

On my Dad’s side, one of his dumber, crazy cousins ran off to join the circus.

On my Mom’s side, my great-grandfather ran off on my great-grandmother while she was raising the family. Had several girlfriends. His last was a one-legged ex-circus performer with bright dyed red hair.

I’m sure the theme runs deeper than that. I’ll have to ask around some.

10

Wow. It’s hard to pick just one. I will at least limit myself to my family and leave out my hubby’s side. That would take up a couple pages (his immediate family is fantastic, but the aunts, uncles, and cousins are…interesting).

Uncle Danny: My dad’s younger brother. Years ago, he tried to steal his brother-in-law’s business. His b-i-l had trained him in the business of locksmithing. Taught him everything he knew. Danny responded by opening his own business, and calling his b-i-l’s customers to say that b-i-l’s business had burned down, and he could take care of all their locksmithing needs. Nice guy. In 1990, Uncle Billy (dad’s older brother) died suddenly. Danny heard it first and headed downstate to loot Billy’s house. He never called his siblings. Dad got the news from a cousin. Furthermore, Danny and his then-wife arrived at the funeral in a chauffered (sp?) car. Who rode in the car? Danny, his wife, and her parents (who had probably met Billy once). Last November, my gramma died (this is my mom’s mom). Danny showed up at the funeral and thoroughly annoyed the hell out of the immediate family (long story). Then on the ride back from the cemetery, he rode with my mom’s brothers and kept telling them what an a****** my dad is. To the credit of my mom’s brothers (who barely know Danny), they told him to shut the hell up, as my dad was their brother-in-law, and they don’t take kindly to that kind of talk about him. Danny later explained to my mom that he talks about the whole family like that all the time (in a joking way). She told him to go to hell, as a funeral was not the proper place to start that stuff.

Aunt Mary: Dad’s older sister. She drinks a lot. First time she met my husband, she introduced her daughter as “the slut” (which, to be honest, is true, but it’s not the way to introduce someone at a family Christmas party). Back when I was born (she’s my godmother), she got drunk at the christening and got into a fight with my dad. They didn’t speak for years. Last September, she decided to not go to her son’s wedding because she didn’t like his fiancee. Her reasons? The fiancee had “taken over control of the wedding plans.” Imagine that. A bride having control over wedding plans.

Honestly, I need a scorecard sometimes to figure out who’s speaking to whom.

FTR, my mom’s side has some embarrassing relatives, but on my dad’s side, it seems to be concentrated to a few people.

11

I come from a long line of whores and sharecroppers, so it’s pretty hard to choose. My mother’s side of the family… argh. My mother is the only one who managed to graduate from high school, and she’s a dead ringer for Peg Bundy only quite a bit older. Still wears the leopard stretch pants and the big hair, though.

She attended my best friend’s formal evening wedding in a purple leather suit, complete with miniskirt and a jacket with so much fringe that Garth Brooks would have died of shame. Then she got drunk and hit on one of the busboys, who ran in fright. Sang along with the band (on stage, off key, after requesting AC/DC) until I yanked her out of there, then promptly hurled all over the inside of my car when I was driving her home. Lest you think I let her run wild, this whole episode took place in under an hour, and I took action as soon as I was freed from the wedding party photo session.

She is the sophisticate of the clan. I now live 700 miles away - I’d go farther, but the Pacific is in the way.

12

"They might let slip a racist comment "

You think your grandparents are racist?

Let me tell you a story. My grandfather was watching the Super Bowl with the fam… (Granted, he’d had a stroke at this point, but he was still fully aware of what he was saying.)

Aretha Franklin I believe was the halftime entertainment. All he could talk about was, “Why do they have these *** negative slang for African American***'s all on TV like this.” And he went on and on and on… in front of my friends and stuff.

Then somebody got a touchdown, I don’t remember who or what… and he screams… (literally screamed) as they do a close up… “GET THAT FKING N*** OFF THE SCREEN… GOD DAMN IT!” Like we had a choice. Argh…

That being said my most emberassing family member is my uncle. What can you say about a 50 year old man who sits in the lawn and picks his nose in front of all my new neighbors. Oh, did I mention he’s crazy?

13

Well, I was going to say my 13-year-old daughter, the Burpin’ Kid, but I’ve just developed a new sense of perspective after reading all the other posters…

14

That would be my first cousin, Bill, the white supremacist

Bill is convinced that White Anglo-Saxons are the Lost Tribe of Israel and drags this out at every family gathering and every time I try to make him see reason. I can’t help myself, even though I know it’s fuitle.

Me: “Bill, that would make you Jewish, you know.”

Him: “No way! I don’t have a big nose!”

Me: :rolleyes: “The Tribes of Isreal were from the Middle East. They are not white.”

Him: “Jesus was white.”

Me: “Jesus was born in the Middle East. In Bethlehem. Look at the map.”

Him: “Jesus wasn’t no camel jockey. God is white.”

Me: :: goes outside to bang forehead against a tree ::

I go out of my way to be in a different part of the house from him whenever I can.

15

At least they have jobs. They are both in their late 30s and they both still live with our mother. My mother can’t work because of her illnesses, so she does need them (and their paychecks) around (her Social Security checks are inadequate); what I mean is, my two brothers have never left home, and would not do so even if our mother was healthy.

The younger of the two is actually a pretty nice guy, but he’s quite immature. He spends most of his free time at the local amusement park, Six Flags Over Texas. The roller coaster they are now building excites him to no end. I think he’s still a virgin, though it’s difficult to get him to talk about sex, so I don’t pursue the subject. I’m sure he’s straight because he’s gone to strip clubs but only whenever SFOT is closed.

As far as we can all remember, the older one has not shaved or bathed in more than 15 years. Our father was the last person who could get him to bathe, and he died in 1985! His bed would never get changed if our mother didn’t do it. Even then, it sometimes goes for weeks and the linen literally turns black. He gets extremely angry if anyone dares suggest that he clean up. He spends most of his money on his pick-up truck, VHS tapes and DVDs because he owns three VCRs, a DVD player and just sprung for Direct-TV. The reason this is significant is because the bathroom plumbing leaks severely and he refuses to spend money to get it fixed, saying he doesn’t have enough. In fact, the pipes leak so badly, the water to the house has to be shut off most of the day or there would be a lake in front of the house.

Since I don’t own a car, whenever I visit, I depend on them for transportation. I don’t mind it when the younger brother drives me around, but I fear the worst when its the older. I can smell him from ten feet away and I just know everyone else can, too. How in the hell he keeps his job at this local print shop, I’ll never know. You’d think they’d tell him to clean up or be fired. I suppose he’s a virgin, too; I can’t imagine a woman wanting to have sex with someone like him.

Oh, and my mother has 15 cats, of various ages, which all live in the house with her and my brothers. Even if I wasn’t allergic to cats, I’d hate visiting that house.

As I said, my father died in 1985. Since then, the family has literally gone downhill.