Sorry for the lack of postage today. We’re having dinner with half of the Snook’s extended family, so I’m Audi…
Updated: That wasn’t so bad. Scary Italian Grandma turned out not to be so scary. I’m glad I didn’t try to face her with bright red hair though. (I’m told she can be withering with the personal remarks.) Luckily my new responsible ‘do seemed to pass the test.
Important Note
This site features content going all the way back to 2000. The posts you’ll read reflect my views and writing style at the time. While I have gone back to clean up a few of them, I think it’s important not to sanitise too much. This site is a record of who I am and how I’ve grown. Any blog post written years ago may not reflect who I am today, nor how I would write about the same topic today.
Comments
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Man, do I feel for you on the Italian Grandma front. DAMN! They can be mean. Luckily, I am related to the Italians, but the girl-friend of grandson is usually the enemy of the grandma or great-grandma. My brothers and I used to go with my fam over to my great Grandma D’s house on Sundays, and she would always be like (to Nick and Vince), “You-a gotta bunch a whores after you-a at (a)school? Aaah? You gotta bunch of hussies? You-a tell ’em to shut(a) da’ legs, aaah?” Nice. I was five, but now it is oh-so-funny in retrospect.
Hahahahahaha… This one has been in Australia for a looooong time, so she’s not so overly Italian anymore. It’s more that she’s an old lady used to getting her way, you know?