I’m guessing every family has one weird-assed relative.  There are some families that probably have a few.  If you think there is no weird-assed relative in your clan, I can assure you that weirdo is you.

 

My weird-assed relative gets on my nerves.  Let’s call him Froggy.  Why Froggy?  Because Froggy would be a super annoying name for an adult male and “Froggy” annoys me to no end.

 

Froggy, this is how my mind sees you and it ain't right...

Froggy, this is how my mind sees you and it ain’t right…

 

Froggy is a cousin of my Dad’s.  When we were kids, Froggy was alright.  When you’re a kid it’s hard to figure out who is the weirdo and who is interesting, but now that I’m an adult -bottom-line- Froggy is too much.

 

Froggy comes from a huge family on my father’s side.  The rest of the family, as far as I can discern, seem really together.  They are intelligent and warm and funny and mostly keep to themselves.  Not Froggy.  Froggy is always up in everyone else’s business.  I won’t see Froggy for years and then at my grandmother’s funeral he’ll say something to me like, “You should see your family more.  You don’t see your family enough.”

 

It takes everything in my power not to say, “You know what…FECK OFF, FROGGY.”

 

Perhaps, “seeing your family more” seems like an innocuous statement and if delivered to me by anyone else it would probably feel appropriate.  But, from Froggy it gets under your skin.  Froggy is the king of getting under your skin.  Froggy is also the KING of awkward.  He has said about his own kids to my other cousins, “That’s my daughter.  I know they look black, but they are still my kids.”

 

FROGGY.  WE KNOW THEY ARE YOUR FECKIN’ KIDS.  NOW YOU’VE JUST EMBARRASSED BOTH US AND THE KIDS.  CHRIST.

 

I mean, like we don’t know (or care) that Froggy married a black woman?  The only one that seems to care is Froggy.

 

Froggy has also said to my mother, “I used to go and see Sweet Mother’s comedy.  But, now I don’t go anymore because she talks about all that homosexual stuff.  That’s not my cup of tea.”

 

Okay, Froggy, you have got to be kidding me.  I am not Lea Delaria (all respect to Lea, of course).  In my act, I talk about things we can ALL relate to like family, and dating, and IDIOCY.  I love to talk about IDIOCY in all its glorious forms.  What I do NOT do is 20 minutes on dildos and dental dams, as Froggy would make it seem.  (But, Froggy, if you’re ever brave enough to come to a show again, I promise, I will.  Just for you…)

 

lea delaria

Sorry to disappoint, Froggy, but this ain’t me…

 

Froggy used to come to my shows by himself…even though he has a family, a nice wife (God bless her, I don’t know how she does it) and kids, regardless, Froggy would come by himself.  A little bit like a weirdo to be honest.  He also invites himself places, which is a trait that usually only the most annoying among us implement.

 

My uncles and cousins were going into the city after the funeral and were talking about it.  Froggy overheard and invited himself along, but also said, “Don’t tell my wife.”

 

Froggy has some kind of fantasy going on in his head that we are one big extended family like you’d see in Moonstruck or My Left Foot.  We all live to hang out with one another and to invite bizarre Froggy around with us when we haven’t seen him in over 10 years.

 

And the “homosexual” content of my act comment, good gawd, let’s discuss it.  First off, two of Froggy’s brothers are gay.  I wonder if he walks up to them and says, “You know I  used to love talking to you, but now that I know about the gay thing…not so much.”

 

Froggy, here’s the truth of it — NO ONE ENJOYS YOU BECAUSE YOU ACT CRAY-CRAY.  If we seem to it’s because we are being polite and tolerating you, but you will also notice that most of us have a look on our faces that suggests we have just sucked on a lemon.

 

You are causing that.  YOU are causing lemon-face.

 

I love when people project shit.  It makes me feel like a UN translator because I’m really good at interpreting what people really mean.

 

When Froggy says, “I used to like your act, but I can’t get with all of that homosexual stuff…” what he really means is…

 

“I like calling other people queer or odd because then it makes me feel less odd myself when in reality I’ve got more odd than Michael Moore at a Tea Party gathering.  I’d also really like to shock your mother right now because I think she doesn’t like me.”

 

When Froggy says, “You should see your family more, you don’t see your family enough…” what he really means is…

 

“I wish someone would hangout with me, but they won’t because I’m a touch bizarre like Marilyn Manson in polyester, but without the cool factor.”

 

When Froggy says, “Don’t tell my wife…” what he really means is…

 

“Let’s all pretend like we’re in a different family where you all take me out to a bar and tell me how great I am.”

 

It ain’t gonna happen, Froggy.

 

I’ve been tolerating Froggy for a long, LONG time, but the expiration date on my tolerance has arrived.  The other day Froggy tried to “friend” me on Facebook.  I both denied the request and blocked him.  I’m sorry, but it is not Momma’s job to make you feel alright.  Get some counseling.  Hang out with your adorable, black, babies and learn how to deal with the world at large, even if some of us are big ‘ole fags.

 

hot lesbians hot girls

Newsflash, Froggy, we don’t want you in our club either!

 

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Sweet Mother is updated daily-ish.  Join in the fun, as I chase down the last 80 or so posts on the way to 365.  You can do so by clicking “follow” at the top right of this blog.

 

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Photo creds:

Lea, weird-hat, weird-face-feature, burningman-hotgirls

 

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