heh heh heh. That'll fix em. I'm not sure whether to laugh at the antics or pat you on the back and go 'there, there' (where?).

Nevermind. You think I'm a Stupid Jerk anyway.

oh you're meant to laugh! i think. HA. haaaaaaaa. :P

hehehehehe

you've quite a way with words - I'm jealous! :o)

Hey! I want credit for telling you the name of that plant.

And I should know better than to comment on your shorter than short entries, they always get deleted :/

I never had 2 parents who lived together, and it looks like I might be the lucky one here.

what shorter than short entry?

Hi Shauna.. i have some oddness to tell you.. i'll email you. It simply proves to me that the world is too small. Funnily enough my folks never fought in front of us. Dad would go for a walk and Mum would lock herself in the bedroom and by the next morning it'd be peachy again.

Didn't I see a teeny entry posted at 8 or so this morning? I must be going nuts.

word up!

"Word up," huh? *Grumbles something unintelligible, but that Shauny will surely pick up on.*

You have such a gift for writing about things that are obvious very personal and even somewhat traumatic memories, in a humorous way. It really is disarming, as Mr. "Monkey" implies! One is not really sure whether to offer condolences, a pat on the back, or to just chuckle at the way you've managed to make everything so genuinely funny.

My family always handled things in a completely opposite manner. It was seldom that anyone even raised his or her voice. Every pseudo-"conflict" was followed by an attempt by all parties to just "talk things out."

Everyone involved would end up sitting around the dining room table, or on the couches in the living room, or, in the summer time, in the backyard, sitting on the patio furniture, and talk and talk and talk, calmly, monotonously, until everyone had had their say, and everyone felt as if their point was understood by everyone else.

On the surface, it does seem a more civilized way to deal with disagreement/conflict, but I honestly dreaded those (sometimes hours-long) family "discussions," and was always relieved when one occurred that did not include me.

Oh god yeh, give me a good screaming argument any day rather than attempting to "talk it out"

I'm not so sure about hurling pieces of furnature, assorted body parts, and sharp cutting instruments tho.

And pot plants?

pot plants as in PLANTS in a POT. tho i wish it could have been pot plants, so everyone could have chilled out a little, and left the icecream alone, man.

and thanks aaron... :)

your family discussions sound like hell!

oh, btw, it's MISS Monkey. I've met her and even patted her nubile arse and I assure you, she's definitely a MISS. hehehe!

oh and rofo - i think you were hallucinating :)

I have a pot plant, called herbert. I don't have any Pot plants tho, man.

'Clean up your own f**king mess!'

That is ripe 'n' ready for picking. I had to climb back up on the chair after that. How *do* you come up with wit like that?

JG!

fezboy - there's no wit involved... that's just what i actually said!

I don't know what to say. You're very gifted with words, dear Shauna, and I wanted to cry when I read this. So very sad. *hug*

Wow. Sounds so very much like experiences I've had with parents. Their favourite was to perform an anti-"Romeo and Juliet" scene - mum sobbing over the upstairs wooden balcony, whilst dad hollered up to her some nasty words. Oh, you'd see the odd full coffee-cup fly through the air.. followed by a plate, an ashtray, a fork (!) or even a telephone (!! - telephones are commonly airborne in our household.)

Parents. Such bastards.

Weird. My parents certainly argued, but they didn't chuck stuff. Dad might've kicked the fridge every now and then.

everyone except me used to get in on the act in our household. Mum would go dad (oo-err! but not that way..) in the lounge room, screaming like a bansidhe on crack... and as I was hiding my skinny 9 year old ass in the kitchen my sis would attack my bro with a frying pan over the last packet of 2 minute noodles. Ah, it was a celebration of our heritage begorrah and bejesus!
But I turned out okay.
*tic*

When I was growing up, my parents would always go outside and fight in the car so we wouldn't know (like they do on the simpsons). they stopped doing that when mum tried to run dad over... she claimed it was an accident of course... after that, we heard nary a harsh word spoken between the two of them until they got divorced and mum threw a brick through our front window. ah well.

still, it sounds like your parents are better off separated, shauny.

I used to have a cactus at the old shop called Malcolm. We used to put some of the bills in his name, but regrettably he died of some sort of insects who hollowed him out.

I have been meaning to get a fern to call Fernando but I haven't gotten around to it yet, I might wait until the heat is over.

Ben

Shit, that's a waste of ice cream. (Vanilla, yeah? I like vanilla. But was it vanilla for the same reason the freezer was full of sheep? That's why we had vanilla, I think.)

We never had arguments like that in our house. And the arguments that were had were almost always when my brother and I weren't present. Instead, there was just this looming, stifling atmosphere when my father was around. It grew worse over the years. Like a storm that never happened.

Things are badly wrong when you're telling your parents to clean up their own mess.

i don't remember my parents fighting, but as one of them died when i was seven that's probably why.

we used to have a cactus called cactus daks, but it really only works as a pun if you have some kind of hybrid kiwi-american accent.

oh, and it helps if you know what daks are :)

cactus, schmactus, its friday!

Explain please my native English speaker friend, what is the 'Cactus Dacks' joke?

Ben's right. What's a dak? I do understand the bit about the pun, but what is a dak???

daks == undies.

It is very wrong of me to laugh at some of these posts.

Oh and Shauny, I've felt Monkey's arse too, but you don't see me *bragging* about it. Sheesh! ;)

Ohhh.

my step dad just threw shit away...he threatened to throw a crystal ashtray at me once for sitting in front of the tv though.