Last week or so, Mami gave me the scoop on the Penzos, because she keeps forgetting that she's NOT one of them and NOT obliged to stay in touch with them and stays getting all the gossip from my loose-lipped Penzo aunt.
Not that I ever turn down a chance at hearing the newest news from CrazyTown, mind you. Just, you know, if I never hear from or about them I won't feel cheated.
But anyway, Mami calls to tell me my grandfather is dying from (of?) prostate cancer, and that one of my aunts also has cancer (the same kind Farrah Fawcett had... *side eye*) and moved to Florida to get the best & latest treatment to fight it off.
Let me tell you, I am NOT pleased to know that these people have the big C coursing through their genes. The very genes I'm working with. The same genes I've passed down to my babies! As if their ghetto ways weren't enough...now I have to worry about cancer.
So the old dude died. Antonio I think is what Mami said his name was, a man I never met in my entire life. That is until one of my Penzo aunts posted pictures of him. Dead in his coffin. At the funeral. On Facebook.
Really, though? Really? THIS is how I finally get to meet my grandfather? I cannot...
It is also rumored that we may make an appearance at a Penzo New Year's Eve party. I'm half excited and half-nauseated. Excited because the aunt whose house it is is the only Penzo I love to bits and pieces. Nauseated because I fear William R. Penzo may be there, and if y'all remember correctly, I kinda wrote him a letter this fall that Mami doesn't know about, and wouldn't it be some shit to have all that mess come out during the party?
Please excuse me while I hyperventilate...thinking of the worst-case scenario is the only way I know to deal with a situation like this. In fact, I'm already imagining that this chronic sinus infection I keep getting is cancer of the ear-nose-and-throat.
Because it would make perfect sense that the moment I learn my grandfather's name is the moment I also inherit all his bullshit.
*smooches...wishing Mami had made a better choice when she made me*
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If someone has a better party idea for me for NYE, PLEASE let me know in case this party thing happens... I want to have a place to escape to!
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5 comments:
I never met my paternal grandfather either... Of course when he died FB had not been created, which is for the best lol
I think you should go do said party and just stand in the corner with your face screwed. Or better yet wear a surgical mask and say they got "the cancer" lol
You should go for education purposes. How many times do I have to tell you that you have to learn about the stuff you plan to talk shit about?
*mumbling* Nobody listens when I speak.
The first time I met my paternal grandfather, he was in the same hospital I was going to for a few days for a minor procedure. Awkward as hell, lemme tell you.
And the casket pictures on facebook? Please make it stop.
I remember the letter.
William R. Penzo sounds like the name of a mob boss. I think you should go ahead and meet him with a big smile upon your face. You are more than equipped with enough survival tactics to last the moment.
That is until one of my Penzo aunts posted pictures of him. Dead in his coffin. At the funeral. On Facebook.
..::dead::..
@super dave- "the cancer" had me laughing so hard! you're a nut...
@smarty- we're 90% sure we're going, relax!
@tyrone- if I were a Meanie McMeanerton, I'd snag the pics and post them here LOL
@don- *dead* is correct. DUDE WAS DEAD-ASS-DEAD and she's over there playing fucking paparazzi. Is this life?
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