In the Interest of Full Disclosure.
Jul. 18th, 2004 02:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dagas_isaAll right, the one thing I hate the most about the Bruces (besides the Demon Beagle) is the fact that they knew me when I was five years old and precocious. The one thing that I don't like about having the relatives up, besides the fact that they invade my privacy is the fact that they've known me since I was ittle-bittle.
And therefore embarassing stories are likely to get swapped.
After Megumi left, because Ryuu-chan needed the car but not, I stayed down for a time and got all worked up about the ending of Final Fantasy IX, through no sort of coincidence mind you. I've worked out that FFIX is my favorite of the PSX Final Fantasies and maybe even my favorite of all of them I've played so far.
Anyway, while I was enjoying being a shut in, the adults were outside drinking tequila. And trading stories. Like about the dummy that I made for my Dad and Mark Bruce in the shape of my head as a Head Squishing Dummy from Whammo. Stuffed with cotton balls I might add. Mom claims to have it hidden away somewhere. I desperately hope it's gone or flood damaged or something. And Mark Bruce in the sort of drunken Tequila state, apologizes for traumatizing me through the head squishing and offered to go to therapy with me. I think that after 14 years of dwelling on it, I've just put it behind me, and therefore therapy would be akin to digging up old graves.
And since that's the only one that came up at that particular party, other than the threesome thing that I am never going to live down, nothing else personally happened to me.
And if any relatives are reading this, I have no recollection of drawing on my father's shoes. That is all.
Over and out.
And therefore embarassing stories are likely to get swapped.
After Megumi left, because Ryuu-chan needed the car but not, I stayed down for a time and got all worked up about the ending of Final Fantasy IX, through no sort of coincidence mind you. I've worked out that FFIX is my favorite of the PSX Final Fantasies and maybe even my favorite of all of them I've played so far.
Anyway, while I was enjoying being a shut in, the adults were outside drinking tequila. And trading stories. Like about the dummy that I made for my Dad and Mark Bruce in the shape of my head as a Head Squishing Dummy from Whammo. Stuffed with cotton balls I might add. Mom claims to have it hidden away somewhere. I desperately hope it's gone or flood damaged or something. And Mark Bruce in the sort of drunken Tequila state, apologizes for traumatizing me through the head squishing and offered to go to therapy with me. I think that after 14 years of dwelling on it, I've just put it behind me, and therefore therapy would be akin to digging up old graves.
And since that's the only one that came up at that particular party, other than the threesome thing that I am never going to live down, nothing else personally happened to me.
And if any relatives are reading this, I have no recollection of drawing on my father's shoes. That is all.
Over and out.
