“Dysfunctional Dictionary Volume 1”

"Constipate"

When someone starts talking a lot of crap you tell them to constipate, which basically means shut the hole in your face.

I almost got arrested when I told the cop who pulled me over to constipate, after he started asking me if I knew how fast I was going...I told him obviously not fast enough because he still caught me.


“Jalopy /Hooptie”
An old, beat up car that is falling apart and normally held together by
duct tape, plastic bags and bungee cords...other noticeable signs would be the
muffler dragging on the ground, rust throughout and/or a make shift antenna made from
a wire coat hanger.

My family was so attached to their Jalopy/Hooptie that they never got
rid of them; instead they put them on cinder blocks and kept them in
the front yard of our house...the white-trash version of garden gnomes.

"Robin' Hood"

A hood that robs from anyone and gives to the liquor store and/or local drug dealer.

My family was full of Robin' Hoods! They would wait until we were sleeping or out of the house then steal our money so they could go get their buzz on.

"Fathers Day"

A day where you honor the many fathers in your life...that is if you can find them. Around our neck of the woods this day is called fathers day...not father's day...for obvious reasons.

Fathers day was always a nightmare at my house, we never knew if we should break the bank and buy something for all four of our fathers, or if we should just pick our favorite.

"Happy Hour"

When you're broke and trying to get your drunk on, you search the
house for anything containing alcohol and you drink it down.

When I was younger I used to hate happy hour at my house, my uncles
would be in the bathroom for an hour or so, then come out smelling
really good and with really fresh breathe and drunk off their butts.
Come to find out they drank all the mouth wash, aftershave and night
time cold medicine. They would always tell me that those products weren't meant to drink, then why did they come with shot glasses!

"Alcoholics Anonymous"

A meeting for alcoholics where they come together and discuss their problems and try to figure out why they're an alcoholic. They receive support and guidance from others, who try to help them overcome this addiction (or as some call it a disease). These are the same people who weren't too worried about being anonymous when they're down at the local bar screaming and yelling and causing a ruckus. Why is it you can act the fool in public, but need to be anonymous when you're trying to get help...one would think it would be the other way around?

My druncles and alcoholaunts would go to their alcoholics’ anonymous meetings to satisfy their probation officers requirments, and then on the way home they would stop at the bar and get their drunk on.

"Repo Man"

Kind of like Santa Clause for poor people, except he comes all year round and takes your stuff instead of leaving you presents.

We saw the repo man more times than we saw Santa Clause growing up, so we would leave him milk and cookies.

"Brown Bagging"

Concealing an alcoholic beverage in a brown paper bag, with the delusion that nobody knows what you're drinking.

My druncle, a brown bagger when it came to lunch, however his didn't consist of a sandwich, dessert and a juice box.

“Fire In The Hole”

Basically feeling as if you’re pooping lava!

I always have regrets after eating spicy food, because after is all said and done I feel like I got butt banged by a lit candle. I once had fire in the hole so bad that I took a frozen tampon and stuck it up my hole.

“Chew & Screw aka Eat’em & Beat’em”

Going to a restaurant, ordering food, eating it and then not having any money to pay for it. After the meal, and when the bill comes, you make a mad dash for the door with the hopes of not getting caught.

My druncles were the kings of the chew & screw. Most of the time their bail was more than their meal, so I don't really get it, but I guess in their minds, if they spent their money on food they wouldn't have any left for alcohol.

"F.R.I.E.N.D."

An acronym for Fictional Relationships with Inanimate Electronic Nonhuman Devices... basically anyone whose only friends are made up of people they have never met in person and only know and interact with them through some sort of electronic means.

Power outages are very lonely times when all the people you know are F.R.I.E.N.D.s...it’s sad to know that the hand shake and smile has been replaced by the words “online now” or "thumbs up".

“Basketball Check”

A check you write when you have no funds in your bank account and the ultimate outcome is it bouncing like a basketball. Picture it, the check (basketball) being passed to the payee (dribbled) and coming back to you with an extra fee (penalty).

My family wrote many basketball checks during my childhood, with the hopes that it would buy us just a little more time with our utilities, rent and just about any other bill before they were shutoff and/or we started being hounded by mr. bill collector. Who the H E double hockey sticks wants to cook Ramen Noodles with a candle!

"European American"

Basically, another word for white, cracker, etc..

All the other races have cool descriptions like African American, Native American and so on and so fourth...so why can't us white people have a cool description too? When I fill out an application and it asks race, I always check other and write in European American. I want to know what it feels like to be a minority without going through all hate crimes, job rejections and police profiling!

"Scamsel In Distress"

A female who acts helpless whenever a male is around...fooling him into doing her bidding. Basically reverse fishing, using the "seafood" as the bait to catch the "worm"!

I have a "friend" who always gets suckered in to the scamsel in distress scam, I....errr oops I mean he is always doing things for all these woman with the hopes of getting some super freak action later...but he never does...how sad.

MJM

“My Sister, the Redneck?”

My sister is transforming, but not into something cool like a vampire or werewolf, (and for the record, I don’t consider the Twilight vampires/werewolves to be real vampires/werewolves, so for all you little girls reading this and hoping for a story about sparkling vampires and/or muscle bound werewolves just keep on moving because there’s nothing here to see) she is transforming into a redneck.

We are full-blooded Yankees, we think the Confederate flag is stupid, we believe Texas is called the “Lone Star State” because the first person there happen to be a reviewer and that’s what he rated it and we believe that any politician who has Bush for a last name is a complete imbecile…well at least I thought we were.

When I found out she watched NASCAR I couldn’t believe it, us Northerners don’t watch NASCAR it’s sacrilegious. We also don’t like the Dallas Cowboys but that’s exactly where I see this thing going, so I need to fix this with a quickness.


What is a concerned brother to do? Now I know vampires don’t like crosses and holy water but what does a redneck not like, should I show her some dentures and maybe throw some bathwater on her, would that work?

Now I’m not hating on rednecks, to each their own, but we just don’t do NASCAR! It would be just like a member of the Klu Klux Klan going to a Jay Z concert, it just isn’t right…or safe. She’ll never be able to go North of the Mason-Dixon again, she’ll be stuck in the South forever. During our next Civil War (this time over guns) she’ll be stuck down here with all the gun toting crazies who think life is a cartoon and they are Yosemite Sam.

I know some of you may think, “NASCAR what’s the big deal”, but NASCAR is the gateway redneck drug. First NASCAR then next thing you know she’s wearing overalls and trying to date her brother, who hopefully will not be me. No more “yous guys” now she’ll be saying things such as “y’all” and “yee haw”, how sad and very unfortunate.


I guess I could always just disown her and pretend I don’t know her but realistically what would that solve? I need to figure something out, I need to find a way to exorcise this redneck demon, El Diablo John Deere if you will. I could wrap her in an American flag and beat her with a cannoli or some New York style pizza but then I’ll get locked up and she’ll just go more redneck because the COPS cameras will be there rolling.

I’m lost, I don’t know what to do. I’m just praying to the Northern Jesus that she’ll come around. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

MJM

 

“My Big Fat Dysfunctional Family”

What can I say, my family was just as dysfunctional as the next. We were like COPS, Jerry Springer and Dynasty all rolled up into one. While other families tried to pretend they were the Beavers, my family had no problem letting people know we were the Bundy’s and no I don’t mean Ted’s family, I mean the ever lovable family from Married with Children…although thinking back we did have some family members that probably could have been one of Ted’s siblings.

My mother, heart of gold, would do anything for anyone no questions asked. During her younger days she was one real bad mamma jamma, she was knocking bitches out with frying pans like as if she was on Tom and Jerry. She was a master manipulator, she could tell someone to go the hell in such a way that they were looking forward to the trip. She was using the Force long before Obi Wan Kenobi came on the scene.

My mother is a fighter, a real survivor. Sure she’s had her ups and downs, but who hasn’t. Honestly her biggest problem was the men she chose to be with it, and I use the term “men” loosely. She’s just like Elizabeth Taylor in style, class and marriages. I like to say that Father’s Day around our place is a real pain in the donkey because we have so many dads to buy for one could go broke just shopping for them.

She was with some real losers (to put it nicely), now I don’t believe God makes mistakes when he creates someone but he must have been under the influence when he made these guys, either that or he’s pulling one of those hidden camera gags on her. There have been many pretenders to the king’s throne throughout our lifetime but only one queen, and that’s my mother.

My mother’s siblings were also a piece of work, we had our aunts who when they were younger were actually pretty normal, it wasn’t until they got older and went all Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on us. One of my aunts, who we’ll just call Scamerella (here's her theme song) and no her name wasn’t changed to protect the innocent, but to protect my wallet because she is far from innocent but she will sue you like nobody’s  business.

She a major pothead, she puts Bob Marley to shame. This nut job smokes more trees than a forest fire. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not against marijuana I personally think it should be legalized, but when it consumes your life and dictates everything you do then there’s a problem.

She will also sue you as quick as look at you, she’s part of the reason the rest of us can’t get insurance without breaking the bank. Honestly I’m afraid to walk down a narrow hallway with her, I’m fearful if I accidentally bump into her she’ll sue me. 

What can I say about my uncles, they always keep things interesting. It wasn’t a (white-trash) party until they showed up, especially my druncles Jack and Jim or as I like to call them Jack (Daniels) and Jim (Beam) because they were twins, both bad alcoholics and with Jack Daniels and Jim Beam both being an alcoholic beverage it just felt right.

These two were great guys with a heart of gold, just like my mother, that is when they were sober but when they got their drunk on they put the “fun” in dysfunctional.  My druncle Jack (Daniels) was actually a pretty mellow drunk, but Jim (Beam) on the other hand, he was a professional troublemaker and badass (liquid courage) when the alcohol was flowing. He is best known for the old chew and screw, which is where you order a bunch of food and drink then try to run out on the tab.

Well this is just a little sneak peek into my dysfunctional world, there’s much…much more…but I didn’t want to scare my readers away so I’m saving it for another time. All things considered though, as crazy as things were I wouldn’t change it for anything, because it made me the person I am today.

MJM


 

“Men Who Cosplay...on the Next MJM”

When guys do it, it’s creepy and sad, on the other hand though, when chicks do it, it’s sexy and hot, well that is unless the chick is shaped like the Kool-Aid man then she fits in with the guys.

When a chick dresses up as her favorite video game character or superhero it’s attractive, but when a dude busts out in some green tights and pointy ears claiming to be Link (Zelda), it’s just depressing...and scary.

I hope to God that these guys are doing this with the hopes of picking up chicks and not really pretending to be these people, because that’s just crazy. Now I’m not trying to crap in anyone’s toybox here, but the whole pretending to be someone else phase should have passed right around the time you found out Santa wasn’t real…not hating, just saying.  

Oh yeah, you dudes who like to wear makeup and dress in all black, I got news for you, you’re just playing dress up too. This is just another example of something the woman can do that guys can’t, so just deal with it and move on. You’re not scary and considering that there are a whole bunch of you butt turds walking around you’re not an individual and/or a rebel either, again not hating, just saying.

I don’t care if you’re a wannabe vampire, one of those so-called goth/emo people and/or even one of those insane clown posse followers, you’re just nuts. If you really want to wear makeup that’s fine, just go ask your mom for some pointers, because believe it or not there are more colors than just black and white, some of which may actually help with that milky white complexion of yours.

You guys just need to learn to talk to women, trust me they’ll appreciate a nice conversation with a well-dressed man more than they will speaking with someone who is dressed up like a Klingon speaking in some insane made-up language. Sure, you may come across a woman who finds it cute and adorable at first, but with time she will get annoyed and if you don’t knock it the frack off you will find all your action figures (aka dolls) in the microwave.

Okay men, and I use that term loosely, you need stop playing dress up and just appreciate the chicks who are just like the rest of us men...and lesbians.

There is nothing wrong with being a fan of a particular band, superhero, video game, etc. but you don’t need to revolve your life around it. Remember, these people get paid lots of money to do these things, you on the other hand, just look like a complete fool.

Now if it’s Halloween (or maybe even a convention) then have at it, let your freak flag fly high and proud, otherwise stay in doors with all that nonsense.

MJM

“Zombie Epidemic”

People...quick, hide your children and lock your doors...we have a zombie epidemic on our hands! I have had my first run-in with the undead...the brain eating bunch known as zombies. These are scary times we live in people...so heed my warnings and take the necessary precautions to keep your family, yourself and of course your brain safe from these bastards.

Last night while I was out and about I ran into a whole mess of them, and at first I didn't realize what I had wandered into, they seemed like normal people…that was until they opened their mouths. No, they didn't try to eat me or anything like that, they just started talking. After hearing what they said I realized they were brain dead, and since they were up and walking around the only reasonable explanation I could come to was that they were in fact zombies. After further evaluation I also noticed that they stunk and their clothes were all raggedy and torn and they all moved like a sloth (which may have been due to the truck load of extra weight they were carrying, but I wasn't taking any chances) which to me, just proves my theory that they were the undead.

You would think I was at a graveyard or some other kind of spooky place, but no, I was at my local Walmart trying to buy some bread for a sandwich I was hungry for...and being that it was like two in the morning and it was the only place open, I had no other choice but to go there.

Now, being scared for my life and not knowing what to do, I grabbed a role of Christmas wrapping paper that was in the clearance bin (seventy-five percent off by the way, if you're in the market for any) and started whacking zombie kiester like as if I was a fat kid and they were piñatas full of candy. The zombies didn't seem to really like that a whole lot because they started yelling and cursing me out...funny how they couldn't put a complete sentence together without sounding like they had a mouth full of marbles, but the profanities came out of their mouths so fluidly...what potty mouths.

I finally made it to the exit, but when the automatic doors opened I was greeted by hordes of zombies rushing the building, shopping carts in hand, which if I had to guess was to hold all the brains they were planning on eating...they must have heard that I was on to them. So I had no choice but to run back in and take my chances with the in-store zombies.

As I ran through the aisles, I knocked down jars of spaghetti sauce on to the floor, hoping they would think it was blood and stop to eat it up while I made my escape...but no such luck. I even went as far as to fling the CDs out of the $1.99 bin at them like as if they were Chinese stars...and while doing so, I realized that not only is it jumping that us white people have a hard time with, but we also can't throw Chinese stars for a crap either. I knocked down a clothes rack on top of one of them who was getting close to me, and being a fan of the 80's action movies I decided to follow up my accomplishment with a witty one-liner...which was, "watch for falling prices you some of a beach"...and then I grabbed a 5 Hour Energy off the shelf and kept running, because these zombies were wearing me out.

I made my way to the manager’s office and barricaded myself in...keeping those zombie bastards out. Shortly afterwards the cops showed up, and I thought they were there to help me so I let them in, but to my dismay they weren't. They took me off to jail and locked me up, which is where I'm currently sitting as I write this. This just shows you how soft as a country we have become, you can't even attack zombies without getting into trouble...what a shame.

Also, so you know, the zombies have made their way into the prisons, I am in the same situation I was on the outside as I am on the inside, just in a different location...so now if you'll please excuse me, I'm about to go all Jackie Chan on these zombie punks with my soap on a rope.

MJM

“If I Was a Superhero”

As a kid after watching Batman on TV I would pretend to be a superhero...I wore my underwear over my pants...well let’s be honest here…I wore them over my mom’s old pantyhose that I was sporting at the time…and no I wasn’t a crossdresser, I was just trying to get into character.

I attempted to tie a towel around my neck as a cape...but my head was too big so I had to use a bed sheet...it looked more like a train on a wedding dress than a cape...so between this and the pantyhose my parents got worried and sent me away to one of those camps for the confused and curious...with the hopes of scaring me straight if you will.

Some kids pretend to fly by jumping off of the couch…that’s childs play…I used to jump off the roof… and for a split second it did really feel like I was flying…and crashing…honestly I didn’t feel all that super while I was laying there on the ground crying out in pain.

I was hoping to be a real live superhero when I grew up...I would have loved to be someone like the Incredible Hulk or even Superman...but in all reality I know I would have ended up like Ralph Hinkley from “The Greatest American Hero”...or more appropriately Handi-Man from “In Living Color.

I wouldn't have a cool power like super speed or super strength either....I would have some lame power like the abilities of a can opener or the ability to shoot lasers beams out my anus.  I must say though…it would be a really good thing if I didn't have the powers of invisibility and/or x-ray vision... because I can just imagine all the trouble I would get into and all the sexual harassment suits I would find myself in because of these powers

I also know my superhero costume wouldn't be something cool...it would be just like the clothes I wore growing up... which consisted of hand me downs and “good finds” at the local thrift shop. My outfits were made up of last year’s fashions and in very rough shape…shoes kept together by duct tape and crazy glue….need I say more. My costume would be made up from a pair of Z Cavariccis and a Member's Only jacket with a used shower curtain for a cape.

I wouldn't have a cool hideout like the Batcave or the Fortress of Solitude...I would have a shopping cart and a cardboard box on the side of the road…my secret headquarters would be the dumpster behind the 7-11…which I was able to access just by moving the drunk homeless man who was sleeping on the side of it.

My weakness would be rent...and my archenemies would be made up of “the Landlord” and “Mr. Bill Collector”…I would kind of be like Wonder Woman…but instead of having an invisible jet I would have invisible money that I paid them with to get them off my back.

I would be so lame that I wouldn't have any fan pages of Facebook...I would have them on MySpace.  My ultimate goal was to be a superhero…but unfortunately with life…and my luck…I became a superzero…instead of a hero.

MJM

“Hunting”

I know saying this may get me killed…and of course it will just be written off as a “hunting accident”…right Dick Cheney…but it must be said. I am not a fan of hunting, at least not in the traditional sense anyway, I think it is very cowardly and unsportsmanlike.

 

Now don’t get me wrong, if you are hunting for survival and utilizing every part of the animal you kill like the American Indians did then I can understand it and even appreciate it, however, if you are hunting for the so-called “sport” of it… where you “hide” out and wait for an unsuspecting animal to come by then blow its brains out, take it home, stuff it and hang it on your wall as some kind of trophy…like as if you really accomplished something… then that I don’t understand and think you’re a punk ass mofo…not hating, just saying.

 

Also, so you know…and before all the rednecks start attacking me thinking I’m some kind of vegetarian and/or one of those crazy ass PETA people…I love meat, I will eat the crap out of a good steak while wearing a leather suit just like Eddie Murphy in Raw…I just don’t think it’s all that sporting and/or something to brag about. To me it’s like cheating on a test…sure you get the end result you were looking for…but in all reality did you really put fourth any effort or skill?

 

You really want to hunt for sport…fine…we’ll take two of you hunters, lock you up together and let you have at it…the survivor gets to live to see another day…the loser gets barbequed and sent across the world to be fed to starving children...it’s a win, win situation for everyone involved.

 

You think you’re a tough guy…well then go wash the animal pee off you, come out of hiding and put down the gun and go kill that animal with your bare hands and/or a knife…then you’ll have something to brag about…well that is unless you’re planning on beating up Bambi and/or Thumper…then in that case you’re still a wuss.

 

So to all you Elmer Fudds out there…take off the camouflage, put down the gun and the beer (guns and beer…that’s what you call a redneck Reeses…way better than peanut butter and chocolate) and go find yourself a new hobby…like maybe needlepoint or suicide bomber…for our side of course, take one for the team…you are a patriot aren’t you (Git’r’done for the US of A).

 

MJM