Yeah, I was part of a large family that was too pov to buy nice contact paper for the children's school books. Brown paper all the way for us.
It starts out innocently enough, with a movie review of Batman Returns:
But the signs of a socially retarded middle child who is desperate for attention are revealed soon enough:
Can't take me anywhere.
Of course, there is some negligent parenting and endorsement of illegal activities thrown in the mix...
... not to mention a little dabbling in the occult:
After my aunt scared the hell out of us by pretending to be malevolent spirits coming through on our makeshift ouija board, we watched her make prank phone calls. The same aunt also made car rides more interesting by winding down her window and heckling innocent pedestrians. She was our favourite aunt.
Let's not forget the visit from the fuzz:
I can't exactly remember what the police visit was about. Presumably they were there to arrest my parents for inflicting bingo on their children during the school holidays.
I wonder what was running through my teacher's head when she graded my 'jornaul' week after week. Did she even have the slightest inclination to make further enquiries or perhaps call the authorities? Lord knows I could have benefitted from psychological intervention at age seven. Sheesh.
If I have kids, I'm making them sign a non-disclosure agreement. Their weird family life is going to stay in the vault.
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