I feel like I need to introduce the main culprits who contribute to my pissed off state who appear time and time again (unfortunately) and I'm sure they are likely to feature in a few rants from now on.
First off, there's a whole family. (They're very unlikely to read this, but I'm going to change their names just for my sake, I'd hate to have to explain to my parents why I'm bitching about family!)
- Let's call this male relative Ray. He's basically a big baby. I could leave it at that; that describes him pretty aptly, but I won't. I feel I need to prove why he pisses me off so much:
- Everything he does is always right. Even if it's wrong. For example, we went on holiday together as a family, and we hired a car as it was a pretty small Island (It was Mallorca, incase you're wondering). So, my dad was driving, and I was sitting in the passenger side navigating using a map (An actual paper map! It was um...interesting, but we managed), and Ray sat right at the back, even though he had a fucked up knee. After a couple of short trips, the reason why he refused to drive nor map read was obvious, it was so that he could blame my dad and I when we went wrong! Imagine, a fully grown man with a family, was prepared to blame a 19 year old for taking the wrong turn. So on one of the days, we decided to drive from Alcudia, in the north to Magaluf, somewhere in the South, and we only had a map to guide us. We were fine on the way there, but missed a turning on the way back. So we asked a drunk for directions (I know, I know, not the best idea) and he mumbled something incomprehensibly. So when we get to this roundabout he goes, "it's definitely this exit", labelled Can Picafort. Seeing as I was looking at the map, I said "no I'm pretty sure it's not, it's the next one" and he was so insistent that he was right, so my dad listened to him. Lo and behold, he was wrong. So we went the way I said, and he says "Oh yeah, I meant this one". I told him he didn't, he tried to shut me up by shouting my name, I shouted his name back at him. He sulked for the rest of the journey. I don't just mean he wasn't talking to me. He wasn't talking to anyone. He blanked my dad! A 40 something year old, blanked his brother in law! What. The. Actual. Fuck? Such a petty little fucker. I feel like I should write a whole entry devoted to just our trip to Mallorca. This Mofo ruined it for us!
- He feels he has to get involved in absolutely everything, and he has an opinion on everything, even if he knows fuck all about the topic. For example, my lovely boyfriend, is Indian, and not tamil. So my uncle gives me a whole lecture on how the Indians, especially the ones from Kerala, caused the civil war in Sri Lanka. DON'T FUCKING BULLSHIT ME!! I'd like to say that I know a fair bit about the war, and never in my entire life, had anyone mentioned the malayalees' role in war, until I mentioned that my boyfriend was one. A coincidence? I fucking think not! I'm not the only one to have been blessed with his oh-so-insightful lectures on being in a relationship with a non-tamil, my poor cousin had to endure it too, but I think she pretty much told him where to stick it (maybe not in so many words, but she made her feelings pretty clear). Jan's so much more braver than I am.
- He whines, moans and complains about everything in life, everything apart from his perfect son, in which case, the sun shines perfectly out of his bottom.
- Ray's Wife: we are going to call her Jane. (They obviously have very long srilankan names by the way). Before I start on why she annoys me, I'd just like to say that she can be really nice as long as her precious son isn't involved, but as soon as her son gets involved, shit like this starts happening:
- She is so overprotective of her son. He is now in year 9, and he still gets walked to the school gates and gets picked up. Every single day. And she doesn't think it's odd when no one else does that! Another boy we know just started in year 7 at the same school, and after a couple of weeks, he managed to get himself to and from school. When we asked Jane about this, she said "But it's fine for him, he only needs to get the bus to get home", which sounds like a fair enough point, until you realise that Jane and her son only live 10 minutes away from the school. Not 10 minutes by car, not 10 minutes by bus. A ten minute walk away from the school!! Surely someone as amazing as her son must be able to walk the 10 minute without trouble, right? apparently not.
- He is apparently the most intelligent boy in their year. But is he really? I doubt it. He has like 3 different tutors, they pay through their noses for them, and they say that he's naturally amazingly clever. Stop lying to yourselves!! Oh and this is what pisses me off the most. I got quite decent GCSEs (not being big headed, because many people did a lot better than I did) and he couldn't even get it into
a goodsecondary school. That's right, he didn't get into ANY secondary school. So the council were forced to give him a place at the local secondary school. Mind you, I don't have a problem with what schools people go to, just don't go around saying that a shit school is better than a private school. It isn't. And it never will be! Anyway getting back to the point, both Ray and Jane think that their little fucked up biscuit is going to do better in his GCSEs than me.. umm I think not, not that it would be fair game if he did, considering the amount of out-of-school help he needs to be an average student! STOP DREAMING AND FUCK OFF! Oh and one more thing, she constantly calls me up when I'm at uni to ask me to help him with his maths or english or whatever it may be. And I have to help immediately, because apparently year 8/9 maths is so much more important than a degree. According to Ray, a degree is also much easier than year 8 maths- ponder that thought for a minute folks. Are you thinking what the fuck? yes? But can we tell them that they are wrong? Hell no! Remember that they rule the world, and you are the mere servants that have been put on the planet to bow down to their every need. - She still dresses him, washes him and takes him to the loo. Yes, you read that right, she goes to the loo with him. He's 12. WHAT?!? HOW DOES SHE HELP?!?!? WHAT THE FUCK?!?!? I'm not condoning this, but some kids get pregnant at 12...why does this 12 year old need help to go to the loo? If someone knows an explanation for this, please let me know, it would blow my mind! Oh and she thinks this is normal.
- And now we get to the prodigy. Some of us refer to him as Blockhead affectionately (due to the sheer size of his head) but I shall call him Little Shit....no I won't, that's mean. For the purpose of this blog, he will be known as Darren.
- He's annoying as fuck. Not in the attention seeking, constantly talking way. He will just sit there and say nothing. For hours. There's a group of us cousins that get on extremely well, and Jane always makes Darren sit with us. And it just makes the conversation fucking awkward, because he'll take everything in and won't say anything. And then he'll go and tell his mum everything. In a really high voice. His voice just goes shrill when he talks to his mum. It's irritating!
- He gets obsessed with certain things, and only talks about that one thing for weeks! I really want him to get tested to see if he has any autistic tendencies. He definitely has some of the characteristics of a child with autism: he is socially awkward, finds if difficult to make friends (he has one, no joke!), memorises trivial things and has to recite them at every given opportunity (I'm not being rude here, I do psychology, and when I researched autism, these characteristics came up, and I couldn't help but think of Darren). One thing that he has been obsessed with are his birthday videos; he has seen every single one countless times. Every time I ask him what he's doing, he's watching one of them. He knows what's going to happen next, and forwards it to the exact time that people appear in the video! what a freak!
- He is a spoilt brat. He has to get everything he wants. Even though his parents complain about being broke, not being able to afford basic necessities, he still gets £200 presents at Christmas (completely ignoring the fact that they aren't Christian, and don't necessarily even need to buy presents). If my brother gets a PS3, he needs to have one. If my brother gets a new phone, he needs a new phone (which he isn't allowed to take out of the house.....amazing use of money right?). As I mentioned before, everything is served on a silver platter to him. And if there's anything we can do to help him, we have to drop everything we're doing, and do it right that instant, otherwise, we're just rude. Obviously(!)
I think this post has been long enough. Obviously I have people in my life that are absolutely amazing, but these little pieces of shits just ruin it for me sometimes.
Talking of amazing people, Happy Birthday Jan! You are one of my favourite people ever. Probably because you are as un-tamil as I am!
xx
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