Monday, August 31, 2015

You Don't Have To Go Home, But You Can't Eat Here

The other day while drinking (as all good stories start) we were reminiscing about the craziest mom we ever met (get your mind out of the gutters).

See, when the two of us were growing up, we had a mutual friend named Brian. And Brian was a cool guy, but his mother was, for lack of a better term, batshit crazy. For starters, she hated us. I mean, absolutely loathed us, and only for the simple reason that we existed.


Yes, you can be furious at someone quietly holding a book or a Rubik's cube. No, it doesn't make sense.

And yet this was a stark contrast to how she treated her son.




Fun fact: she really did call him Bry-Bry, and we gave him endless shit for it
Fun fact#2: if you call me Bry-Bry, I will murder your face

We'd never actually seen a mother smother her child as much as she did without someone needing a body bag.

She wasn't so much a mother as a butler. If he went outside, she gave him a sweater to make sure he wasn't cold, even if it was 95 degrees. She checked in on him every 10 minutes, just to make sure he was okay and to ask him if he needed anything. She fed him lobster, and lamb, and shrimp cocktail, because she wanted nothing but the best for her son... Even if he hated it and just wanted to eat mac and cheese and chicken nuggets like the rest of us.

That, however, was not how she treated his friends, aka us. No, Brian's mom had quite an interesting policy regarding having friends over for lunch or dinner.




Yes, she absolutely refused to feed any of her son's friends, even something as simple as cereal or a sandwich. So if we played over at Brian's all day long, come lunch time, sure enough, Brian's mom would make him a bologna sandwich or pour him a bowl of cereal... and then she'd shoo us outside to wait while Brian ate. Because SHE WAS NOT A GODDAMN CHARITY.

We'd invariably walk to someone else's house, have a quick lunch there, and then return. You know, because our parents didn't mind providing an extra sandwich or two for one of their kid's friends.

That wasn't the craziest part, though. No, her not wanting to share 50 cents worth of cereal was only a funny anecdote, but what made her truly crazy was her indifference toward our injuries. In particular, one day Brian got a brand new swing set that his parents very poorly installed in the backyard.

The day after it was installed, Brian had me (Bryan) over to try it out. Within minutes of swinging, my head went back into a solid iron pole that probably should not have been positioned directly behind a wobbly swing set. I slammed into that thing so hard I probably smashed out a few IQ points.



Brian, being a good friend, got me a towel to put over the back of my head to stop the bleeding. But Brian's mom, not too keen on her "good towels" being used to absorb head wounds, quickly took it back and scolded me. Not only that, but she said I needed to leave.

No, seriously, she kicked me out. And that does not mean she gave me a ride home, either.




So, with a gushing head wound and quite possibly a concussion, 9 year old me walked by myself to the school nurse's house, where I knocked on her door and woozily explained my situation as only a concussed child can.

The nurse patched me up and then drove me home. In fact, she had even offered to make me a quick sandwich, which I politely declined. Go figure, even the nurse would have been willing to part with two slices of bread, a piece of bologna, and a Kraft single.

But it's funny, because as a kid I really didn't think much of it. To me, adults knew everything, so when they told you to do something, you did it, because that was the correct thing to do. Therefore when I had a gushing head wound and Brian's mom told me to walk half a mile to the school nurse's house, I thought that was just kinda what you did in that particular situation.

Now that I'm older, though, I realize that may have been a bit, um, I believe "fucked up" is the technical term.

Which is great, because I saw Brian's mom in the grocery store about a year ago. And she wasn't exactly what you would have called "warm".


It's just nice to know she still holds a grudge against us nasty, asshole kids after all these years.

Cheers and stay classy, friends,
B&B

Beer: Breckenridge SummerBright Ale
Music: Neon Indian






130 comments:

  1. Did Brian grow up to be completely co-dependent on his mother? And does she still call him Bry-Bry?
    At least you had the satisfaction of bleeding on one of her towels. She probably still hates you for ruining it.

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    1. Brian grew up to be a bit of a hippie with a 2 foot long Yogi beard who goes by an Indian name now (he's a blonde haired, blue eyed white kid mind you) so you may say that her coddling backfired just a bit and that he literally changed his name so as not to be called Bry-Bry anymore.

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    2. Ras Trent? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TcK0MYgnHjo

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    3. Ha, yes, 10 points to Cherdo! RUDE BWOY LIVING IN DE SHANTY DORMS!

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  2. All of my friend's moms would feed us to the point of being annoying. Does that make my childhood better?

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    1. Only if you had Ninja Turtles. They made every childhood awesome. Outside of the late 80s/early 90s, everyone else's childhood was pure, unadulterated garbage, but those 80s/90s kids, oh, we were kings.

      Or so those lame Buzzfeed nostalgia posts would tell me. "Only 90s Kids Will Get This Comment!"

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    2. But I'm a sixties/seventies kid. My nephew see photos of me and say I was a hippie chick!

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    3. Your generation had sex and drugs. We had plastic turtles with ninja swords. I think you win.

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  3. At first I wanted to defend the mom. Maybe it was faulty childhood unreliable memory or maybe she was just trying to make ends meet and she couldn't afford to have her son's succubi friends taking even more of their meager resources. Then the head wound. Holy crap what a monster. If you're that adamantly opposed to children that you'd send a wounded one out on the street, why have one of your own? This is why I'm glad I moved far far away from my childhood neighborhood so I don't have to confront any of these demons of youth.

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    1. Oh no, she was probably the richest of all of us. Their house was gigantic compared to ours, and as I said, she fed her boy lobster and crab and shrimp when we weren't around. As for lunch, she certainly could have afforded 2 extra slices of bread and an extra piece of bologna. She just didn't want to. And it wasn't that so much that she didn't want to feed us, but that she made such a huge deal about it. Lunch time would approach, Brian would get hungry, and she would YELL for us to leave, and start on a rant about how she's not our moms, she's not paying to feed kids that aren't hers, blah blah blah. Every. Damn. Time.

      Nutjob.

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  4. Did Bri Bri have all the cool toys? I can't figure out why you would hang out with him. We had a neighborhood kid who had every tonka truck under the sun but his mom wouldn't even let us into the house. The toys outwighed the need to drink from the hose and pee on her flowers.

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    1. You know, I really don't remember if Brian had the cool toys. But he was a pretty cool guy. At that point, his mother had not tainted his personality, and he was surprisingly normal/funny/down to earth. Now that we're in our 30s, though, I have no idea if he survived mommy's wrath unscathed.

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  5. If I know my kids are inviting friends over I make sure I buy whatever food they like. Brian's childhood makes me think of Norman Bates. I'm sure that's how Norma was too.

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    1. My parents always did that too and we were (I believe the technical term is) poor as fuck.

      And wow, wouldn't that have been a twist? There really was no Brian's mom. She was really just Brian with a mop on his head, hoarding all of those bologna sandwiches to himself...

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  6. Sounds like Brian was talking shit behind your backs. I bet he told his mother all the rotten things you guys did to him to gain even further favor with his mother. "Bryan and Brandon... they-they-they (*hic*) said their moms got them both new Nintendos, and-and-and they said that-that I couldn't play with them unless I got good at Nintendo by myself. So-so-so can I have a Nintendo so that they don't hate me anymore and will let me play with them?"

    I don't know. I imagined it went something like that.

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    1. Great, I will never look at Bry-Bry the same way again, dammit. He was like the Keyser Soze of friends, just playing us all for damn fools.

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  7. Awful woman. I remember as a kid being left with another parent and family. I had a migraine and asked if I could lie down. She assured me 5 yr olds didn't get migraines and I was left sitting on the steps at the back door feeling lousy. Don't know how it ended though.

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    1. Wow, that's awful. I know my wife has plenty of stories about getting really sick as a little kid... and rather than being treated, the doctors spent hours just trying to determine if she was lying or not. Great use of medical resources.

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  8. Whoa that's just... yeah that's always something that I didn't get as a kid. Some parents are just mean to their kids' friends for no reason.

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    1. And you know, I might understand if we were up to no good, but often we just went over to Brian's house because he had the biggest basement in which for us to play Dungeons and Dragons. Yeah.

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  9. I hope Brian never married because can you imagine his mother as a mother-in-law? That would be a fate worse than death for some poor spouse.

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    1. "But mom, why does Cindy have to sit outside while we eat family dinner?"
      "I don't care if she's your wife, I'M NOT A GODDAMN CHARITY! And Cindy, stop clawing at the window! I'll let you back in after we're done!"

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    2. I think Brian may have changed his name and moved to Kentucky because after thinking about it. I had that woman as a mother in law. Imagine the Christmas where my kids opened one thing a piece while the biological kids had 30 each. No joke my kids counted. I'm sure its not surprising the marriage lasted less than a year.

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    3. Would he biologically adopt us? Neither of us ever got 30 presents from our real parents.

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  10. I had a friend whose mother was nice to everyone except her son. Never seen a mother threaten to physically abuse her child so many times. We'd be outside playing and she would just yell apeshit crazy at him. When we were much younger, she'd force him to take a nap like everyday. Then I had to go find something else to do.

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    1. Ah, the days when being forced to take a nap was punishment. These days that's practically a gift. Really, I can have 45 whole minutes to nap? Undisturbed? No take-backsies?

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  11. Come on Bry-Bry there's no need to be so mad. I'm sure she had her reasons for hating you. I'm also sure they were completely insane. I only stayed over at some guy's house once but I remember his parents being super cool and nice. Most adults are. I really wonder what crawled up her arse and died a fetid death. Probably something she blamed you for. I can almost, almost understand not wanting to feed you but sending you to the school nurse like that? Not even calling your parents or an ambulance? That's just fucked up. Maybe she thought you'd die and she didn't want to be an accessory to infanticide.

    On the plus side I guess my sister wasn't as spoiled as I thought she was. She was treated better than me but it's not like I was neglected on this level.

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    1. Is it infanticide at 9 years old? Well, I was a slow bloomer, so maybe it was.

      After all these years, I'm just impressed that we could run around, play all day, even sometimes spend the night without any food whatsoever. These days I sit at the computer doing nothing for 2 hours straight and work up a hunger.

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  12. Damn, she can feed her son lobster but not give you some cheerios, that is pretty pathetic. But then sending a kid away with a head wound, pffft good you bled on her towel. She probably never forgot it and has it hanging up in her basement to stare at it and curse out the little shit that ruined her towel haha

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    1. Now I'm imagining an 80s style montage where she's hitting a heavy bag while staring at that towel, just waiting for the day we cross paths again.

      I hope her entire house has hepatitis because of that towel.

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  13. I don't even know you guys and I hate you, so she seems justified and normal. Back in the day my favorite friends mom had a great body and would wander around the house in a bikini, he had a lot of friends.

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    1. This one would not have looked good in a bikini. And we hate you too, Fran. It's good to have you back.

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  14. Did it fix your head when the nurse patch you up? I know that sounds like a bit of a silly quesiotn, but I've never met you. You might be the guy with the gaping head wound. "Bryan? Yeah, I know him. Nice guy, but don't let him near your couch."

    Afew years back, I ran into a mom who had hated me. She was very ready to tell me why she had disliked me when i was a kid. It turns out that she thought I'd torn a shirt of her daughter's when i was about six. I don't believe it happened, but... I would have been six.

    So who knows? I hope your head is better.

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    1. Oh, crap, I guess maybe I should have clarified about that. But, you know, the head wound and all.

      Maybe you've seen my mug shot floating around the Internet?

      Shirt tearing is a very serious offense, six years old or not. I'm not sure I can look at you the same way again.

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  15. I thought I knew some screwed up smother mothers, but Brian's mom takes the cake (and feeds it only to her son!). ... Wait. I saw in another comment you played with D&D in Brian's basement? And his mom did kick you out for exposing him to all that satanic stuff? My husband's mother forbade him as a teen to play D&D because of that. Oh yeah. But he still played it anyway!

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    1. You know the funny part is that she didn't hate D&D or think it satanic. In fact, she bought Brian all of the dungeon master books and the multi-sided dice so he was often our DM.

      To anyone jocky reading this comment, I'll quickly make it up to you. Football hotrod big boobs red meat touchdown.

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  16. >Kraft single
    Wasn't sure whether that was a beer or something else, so I looked it up. Individually packaged slices of cheese? Shit man, that looks like milk has never even been close to it. Is this a typical American sandwich ingredient?

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    1. The fact that you have to ask that proves that you don't live in the third world country that is America. Yes, our kids eat neon orange plastic cheese sheets that were made in a lab. And trust me, it tastes exactly like it looks - plasticky chemicals.

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  17. Poor Bry Bry probably has serious Mommy issues now with any relationships. At least you guys can give that biotch the finger and walk away, which is what I hope you did in the grocery store! Bry Bry is stuck with Mommy dearest forever.

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    1. Brian grew out a 2 foot long Yogi beard, changed his name to something Indian sounding, and moved far away. Now he hikes in the mountains barefoot and eats tree bark while praying to the moon. I don't know that he has many relationships... but I wish him well. You know, considering how much his mom fucked him up.

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  18. Reality TV would have loved her if it was on back then.

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    1. I bet "walk a half mile with a head wound" would have been a hilariously fun reality TV competition.

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  19. If you lived in Illinois, I would guess you changed the name and were actually at MY house. Except that my mother didn't dote on us like Cartman's mom, so nevermind. But she definitely would have sent a kid packin if he hurt himself b/c she wasn't a charity either!
    The thing about growing up with a crazy mom is, (and you're totally right about not knowing any difference as a kid,) it teaches you to really deal with people. Now, someone has to be SUPER crazy for us to even notice.
    Hope you had more lives, Mario Bry-Bry.

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    1. I just stole an extra life from Green Mario. No one cares about him anyway.

      And I know exactly what you mean. It takes a special kind of crazy for either of us to even bat an eye now. Oh, that homeless guy has no pants and is yelling in Latin at a tree? Yawn. Wake me when something interesting happens.

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  20. Wow. That seriously is messed up. Glad you survived though. I mean, I'm not a fan of kids (other than my own) but all that she did is down-right rude. Hell, I can spare a sandwich and some bandaids. -.-

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    1. I'm not a fan of kids either, but if for some reason kids are over I'll at least offer them things like food and drink. I'm not exactly a moral compass of righteousness, but even I feel wrong eating something delicious in front of a starving child.

      And I mean, I wasn't expecting her to wrap me up in bandages and give me an aspirin upon nuking my skull on her shitty swing set, but even just calling my mom to come pick me up would have been a nice gesture.

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    2. Right? I mean, my parents were kinda uptight and they even at least did that. Can't eat in front of a starving kid, just rude!

      I'm always so paranoid when I'm watching other kids that something like that might happen. I'd definitely call the parents, sobbing asking for forgiveness for whatever accident.

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  21. I must assume that Brian has been in therapy since he left home. He did leave, didn't he? I really hope this mother does not have access to handguns. I don't suppose she does or we would have heard about it by now.

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    1. Brian went far, far away, changed his name to something Indian sounding, and became a Yogi. I don't know if that counts as therapy, but I'm sure his mother's insanity had something to do with all of that.

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    2. Apparently he recognized that she had "issues".

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  22. Did that kid grow up to be a Mama's boy? My best friend's mother didn't like me either. She was the type that kept plastic on her living room furniture 'cause it was only for the the 'visitors' not for other people's kids. She adored her son, but didn't like her daughter much, and that went double for me, her daughter's friend. She did let me stay over since that meant I kept the daughter busy and away from her. My mother was the opposite, so I couldn't figure out what pissed this lady off so much. She would get my mom all worried and make her come and look for me and my best friend when we were teens, to see if we really were at the baseball game. Of course we were, most of the time. A couple of times, they caught us. . .we were grounded and not allowed to even talk to each other. . .I sympathize with you, what a witch that mother was. Like my BF's mom.

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    1. The funny thing is we didn't even go anywhere or sneak around. We just played in Brian's house, kept to ourselves, and didn't break anything. Apparently that earned his mother's scorn. And as mentioned in other comments, Brian definitely did not become a mama's boy. He moved far away, changed his name to something Indian sounding, grew out a 2 foot long beard, and became a Yogi. Or so Facebook tells us. He looks happy, so we won't complain. We're just glad he fled his mother's clutches.

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  23. What a psychob*tch! That's pretty damn traumatic for you. It's not as though you lived on the Prairie, where Dr. Baker was available at all hours for home visits. I admit, the Rubik's cube has always pissed me off too, but I would never send a bleeding kid away like that.

    PS I love it when you draw little B&B. So cute.

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    1. I hear Dr. Baker's only medical solution was either some kind of medicine full of cocaine and heroin or a shotgun, so when you put it that way a half mile walk with a bleeding head wound was a walk in the park.

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  24. Parents who are oblivious to other kids raise self absorbed butts. This has been road tested, ha ha, by several of my friends. Sadly.

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    1. I don't know if Brian is self-absorbed or is a butt. We stopped talking to him a long time ago. But if it tells you anything, our huge group of friends, who we've all known for years still stands strong... minus him.

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  25. We lived so far out in the country growing up that we never went to other kids houses to play. You had to ride in a car to visit anyone. But for my children, our house was the house to be. All the sleepovers, pool parties and free lunches are here. You're always welcome and I'm certified in first aid.
    Susan Says

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    1. Thanks! You know, the worst thing about a brain injury is that it made me dumber and therefore more susceptible to brain injuries in the future. So I'm definitely gonna need that first aid.

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  26. You know, I don't remember any of my friend's parents being like that.

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    1. You were a lucky one then. Had to get your head wounds in other ways, I suppose.

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  27. Wow. I can't even imagine a mom being like that. Scary!

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    1. Scary is the amount of people that believe Donald Trump is qualified to run the nation. This was just an amusing story about a crazy lady.

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  28. I just sit around and wonder how these people get laid to begin with. There's always some desperate douche breeding with someone who really shouldn't be parenting.

    All kinds of tempted to have my face murdered..

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    1. Frankly, I'm surprised that not a single person has called me Bry-Bry yet. Perhaps my threat of face-killing has held up strong.

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  29. BEER BOYS ~

    Brian's mom probably knew, somehow, that when you grew up you'd produce some nasty cartoon about her, so she was just giving you some material to write about. You should probably thank her. Otherwise, you might not have had anything to post on your blog today.

    >>..."Now that I'm older, though, I realize that may have been a bit, um, I believe "fucked up" is the technical term."

    Yes, that's the technical term. Good memory!

    I like that red fountain you had on your noggin, Bryan. You know, that's pretty stylish and could catch on, becoming the latest trend in fancy headwear. I need to get me a poorly installed swing set so I can acquire a hat like THAT!

    ~ D-FensDogG
    'Loyal American Underground'

    POSTSCRIPT:
    >>... "Fun fact#2: if you call me Bry-Bry, I will murder your face"

    Well, I wouldn't want that! Then I'd have no place to pour my beer into.

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    1. It's true. I've tried beer intravenously before and it's really just not the same.

      And when you get that hat, make sure you get the right size. I got one a few sizes too big, and now I can't remember basic math. Also, that whole beer IV thing.

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  30. I encountered some strange parents over the years. Bry-Bry's mother actually sounds kind of like my boss with relation to her sons. As a result of this parenting style, the older son is the most repulsive individual I have ever met, and the younger one is called "Norman" by myself and my other boss (as in Norman Bates).

    This one time

    at my friend's house

    I was looking for the bathroom

    and

    picked the wrong door

    and

    witnessed my friend's mother breastfeeding her NINE-year-old son.

    scarred for life

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    1. Okay, okay, you win! You trumped our story easily. I don't even know your friend or your friend's mother but the image in my head will haunt me for years to come.

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    2. I am so freaked out. I need a nap.

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  31. Me reading this: guh...*jaw dropped*

    Truly I tell you...that woman was an asshole.

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    1. Based on my recent(ish) interaction with her I daresay she's still an asshole. I was nothing but nice to her, too. At this point, God only knows why.

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  32. I can say I am very proud of you for your diabolical plan to fuck up her head by continuing to be Bry-Bry's friends. She hated that you took away her Bry-Bry when he could have been with her 24/7. I am surprised she didn't try to stuff him back up into her uterus. She has "man" issues to boot. Where was the dad? He probably ran for his life or you played over his grave in the backyard. When you came home, what did your parents think of that gaping head wound? Did your mom place her fist through that ding bat's face? Bry-Bry is probably some freakish man now who is, I bet, not married.

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    1. No, Brian's dad wasn't dead or gone. He was around. He was his own particular breed of crazy. Like "fist fight a guy on the side of the road for making fun of him driving a minivan" crazy.

      You know the sad, honest truth? I don't remember what my parents thought. I don't even remember walking to the nurse's house. I just vaguely remember her opening the door, having a smirk on her face as I described Brian's mom sending me there, and then her offering me a sandwich after helping patch me up.

      A concussion will do that to you, I guess. I'll have to ask my parents if they remember about that, the next time I see them.

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  33. I don't want to give you a sandwich either....

    What cracks me up is the "go outside and wait" part...why didn't she just send you home for lunch? That would have been a little less tacky.

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    1. Most often that would have required driving us somewhere, which also would have required effort. Shoving us outside and ignoring us - much less work!

      Tacky was this woman's middle name.

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  34. "...craziest mom we ever met..."? You mean a CMWEM? (No, that doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it?)

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    1. I guess you should say she was a real MILF. Yeah, just a Mother I'd Like to Forget.

      Delete
  35. Thankfully, the other mothers I have met have been... well, human...

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    1. If you're implying that Brian is half monster/half human hybrid, then I'm inclined to track him down and inquire about his superpowers.

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  36. Well OF COURSE she hated you guys. You were taking her itty bitty bwaby boy all away from her. Now, we can't have that. Oh no we can't. Oh no we can't. Who's mamma's perfect little boy? Dat's right. Yes you are. Yesssss you are. Mommy's gonna make you a nice big sandwich and those mean old boys can just stare in the window and starve to death while you eat it. Oh yes they can. They can just starve right to death while mommy's big boy eats his big boy sandwich.

    I also hate being called "Bry", but I suppose I've been called worse.

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    1. I never could hear her through the glass, but I bet that's a hauntingly accurate portrayal of Brian's mom. I also understand so much more about Brian now than I ever wish I had.

      Nicknames I also hate: Bry-Ann, Bry-Guy, Brain

      Delete
  37. Your painful funny stories always get me a little in the stomach. Yeah, the stomach. I've got this... let's say *aversion*... to blood and anything blood-related. Of course, that doesn't stop me from watching Grey's Anatomy, Game of Thrones, or The Walking Dead. Moving on... When real live people I know tell stories that are bloody and painful, I actually feel a bit faint. Like it happened to me or something. I'm sure there is a cartoon in there somewhere, but I can't feel my fingers right now (all blood stopped moving in my body when you rammed your head into the swing set pole), and my brain is beginning to fog over. Hold on a minute....

    Now that I've stuck my face between my knees and breathed deeply into a paper bag, I think I'll be okay.

    Bry-Bry's mother sounds like a nut job. I don't know how he stood it. Seriously. I went out with a guy a couple of times (no more than two) way back in the day who got the boot because he asked me every ten minutes how I was (hot, cold, hungry, thirsty, too much room, not enough room, you like this food, this movie, this... oh God... just stop). On some level, I'm sure it was sweet, and whoever he ultimately ended up with must love that sort of thing, but it drove me batshit crazy. So, it surprises me not that poor Bry-Bry went so far as to change his name and get as far away from that insanity as he could. This story just goes to show that there are *literally* thousands of ways you can scar your child for life. Consider poor Bry-Bry scarred.

    As for note #2, please delete my last email. I like my face the way it is.

    Just kidding. I haven't sent you an email. I'm afraid that will just initiate more notes on a novel that I don't feel equipped to fix right now. ;)

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    1. The funny thing is, I don't remember a lot about my head wound. I just remember I was dizzy as hell and it bled down the back of my head a lot. You're welcome for that visual.

      You know, I once went out with a chick who was like that. All it took was one date and it was over. Her insecurity just drove me nuts. I'll save you the examples, because they were much like yours, but at one point she actually opened her mouth, pointed to the minuscule gap between her two front teeth, and asked if THAT was okay.

      Delete
  38. That's impressively irresponsible. I thought once you were a mother, your mothering gene came out and you gave a shit about other kids and whatnot? Idk, I've read thing.

    Was your mom pissed? My mom was not a confrontational woman by her nature, but would have words with others when it came to her kiddies. (She was also very generous with the sandwiches)

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    1. There's definitely a mothering gene, but is there a mothering-of-your-kids'-friends gene? Because she definitely did not get that.

      And honestly, I don't remember what my mom thought. I'll have to ask her. I don't remember much of what happened... concussion and all, you know. I'm just lucky I didn't turn out brain damaged.

      Delete
  39. Yeah - there was a kid in our n'hood with a crazed mom. My mom would send us out the door with Vienna sausages and saltine crackers. Oh good days, we had an orange. Btw, glad you got off the IV.

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    1. I think your lunch of Vienna sausages and crackers definitely trumped our lunch of air.

      BTW, the secret to a killer* body is a liquid diet. Yeah, just nothing but beer all day.

      *because my liver is now trying to slowly kill me

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  40. Wow, I wonder why she was like that. I have a personality disorder that makes me less than friendly in person and even I knew to feed my daughter's friends and put a bandaid on their boo boo's when she had friends over. She's an adult now and some of her friends still call me 'mom' so I guess I wasn't too horrible. lol

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    1. I bet you're just being modest. I think there's a huge difference between being grumpy and just being an asshole. :)

      Delete
  41. You know I was chin bopped by one of my friends years ago. He was hopping off the swing in the back yard and one of my teeth split down the middle. I pulled the disintegrated tooth out and showed Mother. "Wait til you father gets home, I've got dinner to get up" I'll never forget those words and so as usual my younger spoiled brother Marcos was fed on time, first, LOL. I stood there in the yard holding my split tooth, holding back tears in my eyes, LOL. I felt like Nomad from Star Trek. Error, error, does not compute....must analyse.... sparks flying. Later Dad explained, shes tough on you son because you're the eldest. Remember you've only one mother - always love her. So in my Nomad way I always have.

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    1. Wow, man, what a story. Well, I can promise you that this guy's mom was not doing this out of love, BUT...now that I've walked alone, with an oozing concussion, half a mile at the age of 9 I know that physically I can do goddamn anything.

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  42. I'm surprised Bry-Bry didn't grow up to be a serial killer, or completely helpless, as in can't even make himself a sandwich. Our neighbors used to say that our house should have a sign that said "(last name') Recreation Center." All the kids hung out at our place. I baked cookies. We played games. We had a basketball hoop with an addition to the driveway that added extra room for playing. I would have been mortified if anyone had gotten hurt. All the kids said I was the young, hip mom. I said fuck a lot--but not till the kids were well into their teens. Yup. I'm still pretty cool, and I still say fuck a lot.

    Love,
    Janie

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    1. Sounds like a party. When are we invited over? You bake the cookies, we'll bring snacks. I'll try my best not to get a head wound. No promises, though. I'm kinda prone.

      Delete
    2. Head wounds are fine. I have medical training now, and I'm especially good with wounds. When I worked in an acute care clinic and someone came in with a wound, everyone yelled, Juuuuunie, it's a wound, and it's super bloody.

      They loved me because I didn't mind taking care of wounds. I love a good fucking wound. That sounds super weird, doesn't it? as if the wound is from fucking, but I was just working in another use of fuck. How about--Fuck! I love a good wound.

      I'm the mom who would have fixed up your head and given you something to eat and then kept an eye on you for days (without you noticing) to make sure you were okay.

      Why do my kids hate me? I am so fucking nice. My daughter hates me so much she didn't even cash the check I sent her for her birthday. I just realized MY ENTIRE WORLD HAS GONE DOWN THE TOILET. Ah, thanks for the therapy.

      Delete
    3. Next time your kids complain about your parenting, send them this post. And then to really seal the deal, make something delicious, sit down at the table, and eat it all alone while you lock them out back. Let them watch you through the window while you eat every bite, and if they make eye contact, yell at them that you're not a charity. And if they try to put their hands on the glass, give them a bottle of Windex and a rag and make them clean up after themselves. Then lock the door again and go back to eating.

      I would imagine they'd realize how fucking good they've got it after that.

      Delete
  43. Um...wow. I cannot believe she actually sent you away when you were bleeding like that! That's just...cold. I hope you were able to regain those IQ points over time.

    Seriously though, one has to wonder just what kind of psychological issues are involved in a person being like that. Of course I can wonder, but that doesn't mean I'm interested or brave enough to really investigate the issues at work there. Yikes!

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    1. The IQ kind of ebbs and flows depending on who I talk to.

      Have a conversation with Brandon about the underlying satirical message in our newest novel: IQ rises.
      Have a conversation with the cashier at the Stop-N-Go about whether it's pronounced "athlete" or "ath-uh-lete": IQ plummets.

      Delete
  44. Wow - how rude was that to send you away bleeding..I had a friend who's mother wouldn't let us in her house. Her mom was an at home mom and her dad a correctional officer. I guess they had trust issues. The strange thing is they wouldn't let her go anywhere and would tell her to invite people over, yet when we came over her mom said we couldn't come in..I am not sure I followed that logic...and found other places to go.

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    1. The dad had a crazy sister who was a morphine addict. They kept her locked in the attic. The mom wanted her daughter to have friends, but she'd get scared when you actually showed up because you might hear the crazy morphine addict in the attic.

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    2. Or go up there and get hooked on morphine themselves?

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    3. haha - oh, that is funny, but they didn't have an attic ...they did have a cellar...

      Delete
  45. Shall I feel guilty about my Bug's friends I frequently send home at lunch/dinner?

    Well, in my defense, I live a block from the high school, and for a while my home was the popular hangout at lunch and after school. My son loves to come home for lunch - even when I worked I'd come home for lunch at the same time and fix him something. Nope, I quickly realized I COULD NOT feed all the hungry teenagers.

    But, one or two are here so often during the summer and school vacations I don't say no - much. Especially when they say "Hi Mom! Can I have a sandwich?" Perhaps getting rid of the tradition of calling your friend's mom Mrs Whatever has its benefits, lol. And I've been used as a free taxi so many times I've seen the good in having a broken down vehicle.

    Little kids and bleeding people are another story though. I used to pick my own kids friends by how their parents treated mine. Can't get away from reciprocity. I'm not paranoid, but I remember little guys I frequently sent home as their mothers sent them over the same time every day, always hungry. Some parents are just awful, even if they are not quite to Brian's Mom depravity. Why did she even let other kids in the house at all?

    I wonder if Brian has any friends as an adult, or even when he was a teen?

    You boys can come over and play with my son, and tell him all the wierd ass stories you can imagine. I promise not to listen is at the door/window. The cookie jar is always full, and you can have all the bologna you can stuff yourself with between horrors. Bleeding is not allowed though!

    ReplyDelete
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    1. I don't think you should let the beer boys play with your son.

      Delete
    2. I second what Janie said. She knows what she's talking about.

      Brian has plenty of friends as an adult. Seems that he's not the only one keen on changing his name and becoming a Yogi. Plenty of other scarred white kids have joined him. It's like a refuge for white kids who were the victims of bad parenting.

      Delete
  46. If any of my friends had mothers that extreme I never noticed. Actually I didn't go to other kids' houses that much since my parents and our house were the best. The other kids always wanted to come to our house and if they were hungry they were fed. It was almost like getting loaves and fishes from Jesus.

    Besides, my parents juggled and the other kids loved coming over to watch that. We probably should have charged admission.

    Arlee Bird
    A to Z Challenge Co-host
    Tossing It Out

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    1. I would have paid to see your family juggling act. Plus, I could show you my famous flaming sword swallowing act. The problem, of course, is that I can only perform that trick once.

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    2. haha - you crack me up...best not to try that act...I needed a laugh and decided to come here..

      Delete
  47. What an awful woman! Withholding food was bad enough, but I can't believe that she sent you away with a bloody head. I'm surprised that you and Brandon even wanted to go to his house. You were probably too brave to tell your parents what happened. If the same thing happened today, the police would've been involved and law suits would've been filed. Figures you couldn't even collect a bologna sandwich for all of your trouble.

    Julie

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    1. Oh, what a glorious lawsuit that would have been! For putting me on improperly installed equipment AND sending me away. I would have been driving to school in one of these babies (bitches and hoes sold separately)

      Delete
  48. OMG! How can someone in good conscious be outright mean to others, let alone kids? I could see if you were destroying the house, but... I'm a firm believer in Karma. It might not come back to her in the same way, but karma will pay her a visit.

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    1. The only things she ever cared about, her two boys, want to be gone from her so much that they both moved far, far away. One even changed his name. I'd say that's Karma. :)

      Delete
  49. Yikes. Makes you wonder what happened to her as a kid to make her so biased/mean.

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  50. This is one of those things I really don't get. What was wrong with that woman? What did she think she was teaching her son? How could someone be so insensitive to a child?

    When I was growing up (as an only child) my house was always full of the neighborhood kids (some I didn't even care for that much), most likely because my mom was warm, kind, and nurturing to everyone. She always made food to feed and army and the neighborhood kids knew it (I think their parents did too). It made me feel great and I think mom enjoyed it too. I tried to do the same for my kids. I wanted their home to be a safe place and I would rather they had friends over than send them to some of the other houses to play.

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    1. Don't let the baby face fool you. Here's where I show my age.

      When I was a kid, my house was the place to be. It wasn't particularly big. My parents were pretty poor. My Mom (God bless her) can't cook for shit. But when I had my friends over to spend the night she'd help us build blanket forts, and she'd let us use the big tube television in the living room (because the picture was SO much better) and she'd let us play what we wanted to hear on the big cassette player. And even if there was 5 of us she'd go out of her way to make all kinds of drinks and snacks and food and desserts. No one ever left the next morning without a smile.

      I have no immediate plans to procreate, but if I do, that's the kind of household I want to emulate.

      Delete
  51. That is unbelievable!!! I am not a violent person, but I'd love nothing more than to go punch that woman right now . . . after introducing her head to to that iron pole in one quick hard swing.

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    1. Believe it, sister. She was kind of a putz, so I think I could have taken her without the concussion. But with it, well, I was a little too dizzy. Plus, at that point there was 10 of her. And they were all moving around like crazy.

      Delete
  52. That's just unfuckingbelievable. I mean, you can't make that shit up. I hope you said something nasty to her in the store!

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    1. I wish I could tell you I said something snappy or gave her the bird, but when I saw her and waved she just gave me the nastiest glance, and marched away in the opposite direction. I didn't even have a second to absorb what she'd done until she was already gone. The wife was there, too, and the first words out of her mouth were, "Wow, you know that bitch?"

      Delete
  53. I dealt with some psycho moms, but I think they were all willing to feed me. Then again, I was insanely skinny, so maybe they thought I was malnourished.

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    1. I was insanely skinny as a kid, too; this woman was just a crazy ass bitch.

      Delete
  54. I wonder what happened to Brian? I also wonder what happened to her to make her such an insane and insensitive witch? And what's the deal with not feeding the other kids? Even when I was on a strict budget as a single mom I fed the boys' friends PB&J when they were over. WTF? So many unanswered questions.

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    1. Brian went on to become an Emmy nominated, Heisman Trophy winning quarterback who was awarded the Medal of Honor for courage in the line of duty during World War III.

      Delete
  55. So you guys didn't tag team her? Cuz I was kinda waiting for it :(

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    1. I think she was waiting for it too, which was probably why she hated us so much. That train never delivered.

      Delete
  56. Un-funckin'-believable... for lack of a better term.

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    1. I can think of a few better terms but they aren't exactly something you can say in public without getting nasty, sideways glances.

      Delete
  57. As weird and messed up as that mother was, at least she wasn't YOUR mother. If having her for a mother didn't totally mess up your friend's head, it's a miracle.

    (Hey! I saw the Beer Thirty logo! Cool)

    ReplyDelete
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    1. Brian's a bearded Yogi who goes by an Indian name now, so I think he's a tad messed up as a result. I also think he's not a big fan of Beer Thirty. Which is sad, because Beer Thirty fixes all problems.

      Delete
  58. ,I don't know how people can behave that way to other human beings. At least she didn't pass it on to her son.

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