"Your famiy is DYSFUNCTIONAL!" It was my

"Your famiy is DYSFUNCTIONAL!" It was my American sister in law on the phone again. I felt sorry for her. There is a subtle difference in being dysfunctional and being English. She
, being American, did not understand this, however...even though she'd been married to my English brother for 12 years, 2 months &13 days. She gets confused when we say we want to
shag the ponies, because she thinks we want to turn them into rugs, but we really enjoy being with the animals, and we like playing horsey even when there aren't any animals around
because we are simpletons. The kinds that stare at people with freckles and ask what happened.
We just didn't understand why they needed both a dotted and a straight yellow line in the middle of the highway. So, we continue on our journey, eating raccoon, telling jokes,
and subjecting each other to our farts: basically bonding into a cohesive whole with a common purpose. Then she walked into our midsts. Margaret Dingleberry. She was the kind of
mad to see us farting, but soon joined in.
it smelled like fart for some reason. Not sure why. Then i killed my dumb dad
aism movement with one disastrous showing at Art's Bar & Grill, which was neither a bar, nor a grill, but an art gallery. Absolutely nobody came. Not even Art. I was delayed as
Uber took me to the wrong address. Such is the problem with self driving cars. I nearly found myself in an accident involving a human yakking on their cellphone. Art was cool.

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