Dysfunction Junction…what is your function?

Dysfunctional family members are like assholes..everyone has one!
Dysfunctional family members are like assholes..everyone has one!

Contrary to popular belief, it is very difficult to take a dysfunctional family and make it functional. The opposite would be true is well. However for the purpose of this blog (and, because the author is much more familiar with chaos) the topic shall remain strictly on taking several wrongs (DNA) and attempting to make it right.
‘Living amongst dysfunction…in a household setting…is like finding your ‘own’ misshapen and non hygienic lint on a pair of socks. There is nothing more disgusting than your own special brand of gross.’
Dysfunction, junction…what is your function?

The first mistake is making every attempt within your impotent powers to stir things up. You are currently in a cesspool race amongst inbred rats…there is no winning and/or changing the game plan.
As the saying goes,
‘It is like pissin’ into the winds!’

WE all eat what we sow!
WE all eat what we sow!

Your best bet is to not bet at all. Change in a defective world is a slow and steady game of RISK…And, you are a country in and of itself. You have no allies!

Never, never, ever, talk to them or talk above them. Them being the ‘Flawed Clan’. Do not attempt to argue with them when they are;
riled
stirred up
a festering human boil
and/or
disgruntled once again,
over an argument that occurred two decades ago

Above all, do not strive to out swear them. When in the process of out cussing the kissin’ Cousin or the demented Dad, you will find yourself only using the optimal words and/or:
FUCK
Fuck this
Fuck that
Fuck you
What the fuck
and my personal favorite
You are fucked up!

It's hard to put the big Girl panties on when your family suffers from diaper rash!
It’s hard to put the big Girl panties on when your family suffers from diaper rash!

ASHEN

There are so many other ways to deal with the current situation…whether it is a the stage of just having been told your grandmother is your sister’s father. Or, your distant, distant, not distant enough, cousin is fond of necrophilia.
Swearing/cussing will only lead to dumbing you down and is known to cause bouts of ‘redneck’ dialect!

How to physically right the wrong of maladjusted lineage?
Do not look unhappy! Take that fated frown and turn in upside down! If you do not do this…the defrocked dynasty will suck you in with their ‘funny bone’ dramas!

No matter, the Whoa is me situation:
Uncle Hilde wants to be Aunty Hilda
Sister Flo believes there are aliens living in her small intestine.
Step Dad #5 was once an alcoholic clown in a traveling show

Misery loves company. Dysfunction loves snowstorms in the middle of July and they will blame you for the plight. Particularly if you are suspiciously…wearing a frown!

A simple list of how to combat dysfunction and stop it from breeding:

  1. Psychotropic medications
  2. Relocation
  3. Becoming an alcoholic and/or addict
  4. Talking to the animals
  5. Frontal Lobe Lobotomies
  6. Changing your last name
Necessary Items 4 a family outing: travel Buddha and Daily Reflections!
Necessary Items 4 a family outing: travel Buddha and Daily Reflections!

The only real solution to taking problematic family trees and shaking the apes out?
A good sense of self, a spouse that has not been afflicted by a similar disease, hope, faith and occasional private sessions of isolated rage.
Private Non-Inclusive Isolated Rage; This is a practice/hobby that should be participated in by one’s self. You will need a copy of ‘Every Rose as it’s Thorns’ by White Snake. You will also need to acquire every episode of ‘All in the Family’ that has ever been placed upon this bigoted earth. A container of red ants that have not been feed in the last week or so. One jar of pure honey…not the fake stuff. Ants can tell the difference!
It is best that you remove all dangling jewelry and strip down to what God gave ya’. Then, ask your spouse for a period uninterrupted time in the basement. A comfortable chair is advised.
As you put on the music, volume to the max. Archie in his chair…on mute. Place yourself with the tender love in care you should have received as a child…but didn’t, in the barren but comfy chair. Open the jar of honey placed by your left foot. Un-hinge the jar of ants…with your right foot.
Close your eyes and rest in peace knowing…you are currently in a much healthier space than you ever will be at a Thanksgiving dinner with the Parents!

##The history pages are filled with the anguish of growing up in unfit clans. The Kennedys are a prime example of several attempts at sexing the junky genes out. And, let’s face it, there are many of them left. Start to work today…
Stop Dysfunctional Families today…donate to

Never, ever mix recreational marijuana and family...it's a waste of a good high!
Never, ever mix recreational marijuana and family…it’s a waste of a good high!

Castration for Cross Breeding Clans!

Silent Misdeeds

Silent Misdeeds

Silent Misdeeds

Silent MisdeedsSilent MIsdeeds

Which form of abuse is to your liking?

Why?

You say….

The choice never had been yours

to make anyway…

Though it had always been your voice at stake

Just another orgasm faked…

Choices, options, delusions of narcissistic grandeur…

Why not a familiar bent take on beat her down pleasure?

They all say twice more than what they hear

Guardians of hand-me-down fear.

Everyday serving up a family owned tactile recipes

Everyday reminders turned mystery thrillers.

Everyday the salts that eat the pillars.

Note to Self

Note to Self-

Notes to self...use caution
Notes to self…use caution

We cannot be up to speed, you and I…

It is always a deadly game of do or die.

We come here face to face…

I laugh…

You smirk…

and act oddly out of place.

Since our time began

I have held too firmly to your hand.

Birth between the catacombs and resolution behind the vault

Her, Him

are they at fault?

Decades filled with racial slurs

History pages of commitments not deferred

Judge ye not

Judge ye not

Asylums, institutions weighed

Pink pills, razor blades

Iodine bars and nurse maids.

I’ve been told of your lot

A sad mixture of…

crazed delusions

and mother’s shavings

laid out at the 24 pass parking lot.

Him guided by watered down psych pathology

Her with bottled up religious radiology.

The catacombs? Well, I read, on that day, a happenstance, a doctor’s note held up to the courts to display. Note to self…now you etch, hiding behind a killing dialect. So, please, please me…I ask you now. Just how was it…

You came about?

j

Note self- Never following directions with fool-proof reading
Note to self-
Never following directions without your lips moving!

All Out…an Anger

Dear…

What drives your force?
What drives your force?

Let’s face the facts, it maybe 2015, but it sure feels like the early 1960’s! Unrest and ambivalence are never a handy combination.

Are we a nation divided under color? Are we a nation poised for battle in the bedroom?

I have a nasty little quirk. A formidable habit of becoming stoically silent and ferociously quiet…when I feel forced into a corner.

Anger, to me, has been such an over explored emotion, at least, in my family. Violence with the threats or without? It did not matter. It, anger, felt like a choice. A sort of sink or swim. Do or die!

I ran so fast from the scenes of my childhood. I ran as fast and as far…as my empty wallet and dying from alcohol to kill the pain, body…would take me.

The world to me feels like a grander scale of Alcoholics refusing to get help. People shooting people for no real reason. No real reason other than a wanting to be center stage, top dog and/or the actor, director, producer…of our own play.

Dear Old Grandfather had been in law enforcement. He saw anger. Therefore, he brought anger home. It had nowhere to go. He died a dry drunk…angry and without remorse for the aches he had left behind.

He also had disowned my homosexual ass! Declining any contact with me. He opted out of my young adulthood years. And, to that, I felt anger.

And so, the cycle went on and on and on.

Anger has nowhere to go…if it is left to it’s own.

WE are all faced with choices. Whether we are the dirtiest of poor or the richest of the self appointed jesters in our court of It’s All About Me!

The question is:

WE are only as angry as we seem!
WE are only as angry as we seem!

Has America hit rock bottom yet? Or, is there still room and time to play around with the idea that…the white man is better than… and the heterosexual couple will go to heaven?

I don’t think there is much time left. Even so, I’ve gone back into hiding.

Hiding in my Alcoholic’s Anonymous books. Finding salvage amongst Native American philosophies. Packing up my soul and psyche and heading into the written word!

On our own will alone, the world just isn’t holding water.

Goddess, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

The courage to change the things I can.

And, the wisdom to know the difference.

Three simple sentences that stopped my ass from being on fire…many moons ago.

Later along I learned that anger is unnecessary when going to a fight. The concept should be…I didn’t have to go to the fight in the first place.

Can I change someone else? Make black blue? Make queer straight?

Shit, no!

Should I even worry about those persons do anyway?

Shit, no!

I suppose the best we can do is join or don’t join. Be party to the hysteria, the back turning, the name calling and the discrimination?

Or, we can write, vote, standup to, one voice at a time, the misplaced anger.

My grandfather passed away leaving me with a vivid memory…

He had been insistent that my grandmother had been having an affair with a Puerto Rican cemetery man. (His words, not mine.)

Day in and day out, right up until the end. He made my grandmother’s life a living hell topped with resentful spite!

He was becoming senile and the violence in his soul was getting the best of him.

Shortly after the wake and the funeral. Shortly after my grandmother relieved herself of fifty years doing the dirty with a bitter man.

Shortly after the smoke cleared and the feverish fog lifted…She, my namesake, my grandmother…told me this:

I loved your grandfather but it was anger that did him in!

I often think of her, him and those words…as I watch the world unravel!

RandomwordbyRuth

All Out…and, Stand UP!