Two Psychotic Chickens

[keiramarcos]

Yesterday I was kind of depressing. Sorry about that. Life can't always be one big snarkfest. Well, IT is but sometimes the snark isn't amusing. I've been bitchy all day which didn't work out in anyone's favor as both Cock Provider and Cousin Stan would be extremely thrilled to tell you all about it. No really. They would but I don't let them get on m LJ and entertain my minions -- that is all for me. Because I'm selfish like that. All mine! Mine... except for the fact that some mysterious and awesome and anonymous person keeps paying for my LJ upgrade membership thingy so it's like -- mine but I'm not paying for it which messes with my head, I have to say. Since I was so moody and be a big ole downer yesterday -- I feel the need to share a rather epic moment of my childhood (and Stan's) with you guys.

Uncle Leroy (who actually has a real life name that is much much worse if you can imagine) was forever high or tipsy. Not often all out drunk but he was definitely intimate friends with Jack Daniels after his first marriage fell apart. (Aside -- he bears a creepy startling resemblance to Aaron Tippin to the point where people have asked him for his autograph and then got pissy when he denied being Aaron).

In 1981 or perhaps 82, Uncle Leroy spent the summer in my grandparents basement having what Stan and I dubbed a "Post Divorce Shamefest". He was hardly the first of my grandparents children to move in and live in the past basement after a divorce. It was practically a family tradition. It still would be if my grandparents were living. Now the "Post Divorce Shamefest" involves rotating through various family member's sofa until we stage an intervention and make them rent an apartment and furnish it with stuff from Ikea and Wal-Mart which throws a whole new layer of horror on the "Post Divorce Shamefest".  Note: We all agreed without discussion that Aunt Holy Roller's House is not to be included in the "Post Divorce Shamefest Sofa Tour" unless it is one of her own children.

So, Uncle Leroy only asked for one thing in the divorce -- his brand new Camaro. She got the house, the dog, and all of his 8 tracks. Stan and I were bummed about the dog. He moved in the basement and proceeded to spend several months working and alternately quite intoxicated. It was a bad divorce. My grandma called his ex-wife "The Cheating Whore" the rest of her life - even to her face because we're all about inviting ex-spouses to family events because divorcing a member of our family does not equate with divorcing the rest of us especially if you are entertaining enough in your own right. 

As I might have mentioned Uncle Leroy had an unfortunate ability to run over a tricycle or big wheel or bike if it were anywhere near the driveway. He ran over my sister's tricycle one late night. We found this out the next morning when we come down for breakfast and he was getting bitched out my mother for coming home "smelling like a drunk hooker". Neither one of us knew what a hooker was but we were rather familiar with what a "drunk" was. Uncle Leroy had provided quite a few educational examples that summer. He was being an asshole about it because he'd already replaced Stan's bike and my big wheel in the previous month. He refused to replace my sister's tricycle which she'd only had for a few months which made her cry. 

I solemnly informed him that he'd better go get her another one or else. He decided he could handle the wrath of a child. He was mistaken.

It took Stan and I the better part of a day to catch Psycho Chicken One & Two. We'd been calling these two particular chickens this since they were little fluffy, yellow adorable chicks because they were just wrong. Even when they were fluffy --- they gave off bad vibes. We came to the conclusion that grandma kept them around for her own amusement since the little weirdo chickens refused to lay eggs. We caught them and we tossed them in his car with the windows cracked enough that they wouldn't suffocate. Then we stood outside and watched them (for safety purposes as we had no desire to kill the crazy little things) and watched them have a grand, psycho time in his Camaro for about an hour. Then we let them out. After which, I put a note written in crayon on that big letter paper they give you in the first grade with the words: Tricyle Killer! and Stan helpfully included an advertisement from K-Mart with the brand of tricycle Uncle Leroy should buy my sister circled in red. Then we used toothpicks to let all the air out of his tires. 

Of course, when he woke up from his afternoon nap and found his car he was livid. He chased us around the house for about a half hour trying to spank us before our Uncle Joel stopped him with a few words of warning about escalation and how he knew for a fact that Stan and I had access to snakes (and we had not hesitated in the past to deploy them on our enemies). 

Uncle Leroy bought her a new tricycle and he moved out. Grandma made us cookies for a solid month -- every single day.

Comments

[ladyholder.livejournal.com]

ROTFLMAO!

Oh. Perfect.

LOL.

~L

[jooniper-pearl.livejournal.com]

Growing up in your family must have been such a freaking blast. Still must be. My family got the polite gene in spades. We just don't want to upset anyone :/ It's hard to always have a smile on your face even when you are screaming in your mind. If I ever dared to speak my full mind I could go ahead and uninvite myself from every family function until the end of time. My brother left the state and married into an awesome family like yours. I married someone with the polite gene. We have five polite girls.

[rellan.livejournal.com]

the anagram of Stan and Keira is WIN.

[timespirt.livejournal.com]

Good for you and Stan! Your Uncle deserved every bit of it and more. LOL

I hate psycho birds

[gummibearthief.livejournal.com]

Birds, I hate the buggers. My mom had chickens that would walk in front of where ever she was going, squat and cluck until she picked them up and petted them all. They would draw blood on anyone else and killed a rattlesnake for fun. She also had Hell's own turkey that never was right after her husband kicked it in the head for pantsing him and chasing him around the yard. I laughed my ass off, from the safety of the house, and I would have rewarded him, but y'know evil bird, so I just stopped aiming for him when I fed him through the fence.

As far as I'm concerned the your Aunt Holy should be trying to handle turkeys not snakes, some monk somewhere must have changed the species.

[rhiannon-wing.livejournal.com]

You have a truly, truly awesome evil streak. I would have loved to do that to a few family members of mine as a kid, but chickens were "fer eatin' an' eggs, not playin'." Unless, of course, it was chicken dinner night, then we got to chase the damn things down.
You and Cousin Stan are MADE OF WIN!

P.S. Uncle Leroy's real name can't be worse (I hope) than my uncle Jebadiah. Then he perpetuated the tradition by naming his oldest kid Jedadiah. The Beverly Hillbilly jokes never ended in that house.

[i-cant-talk-now.livejournal.com]

You are familiar with Jenny Lawson of TheBloggess fame? and her book, Lets Pretend it never happened? I heard her read from it recently. Her book is on the best seller list.
Ever wondered what your collection of told and untold family stories would do in book form?
*raises hand*
I would read it.

[devohoneybee.livejournal.com]

seconded.

[calanor.livejournal.com]

Thirded!!!

[sunny-tuesday.livejournal.com]

I would buy it and then pass it around to all of my relatives as they would read it and then promptly say "hey that sounds familiar"!

[myjadedhavok.livejournal.com]

You should write a movie script about your childhood. Even without any real plot, it would do well just because its hilarious.

[liferscove2118.livejournal.com]

You know we love when you do share time of family stories.

[lapislaz.livejournal.com]

In the words of John Denver, "YAY GRANDMA!"

[sarehkert.livejournal.com]

"Post Divorce Shamefest Sofa Tour"

Also ROTFLMAO

[karasumaakane]

LMAO! xD

[tygtig.livejournal.com]

I love my family to bits - but I would happily be adopted into yours as well. I think we could start a cousin Stan fanclub on LJ.

[calanor.livejournal.com]

My dear lady..you sure had a...interesting childhood... ever had the neighbor mean old lady come knocking at your mama's door... wanting a piece of you??? Kind of reminded me of Witch in Wizard of Oz...

Like your chickens.... my and my best bud.. put mice in her opened car window...

could hear her screaming a block away. *honest it wasn't us... we was at Miss Gladys' house having cookies and cool aid!!*

[adafrog.livejournal.com]

So much win, I can't stand it. lol

[seadragonlady.livejournal.com]

"Post Divorce Shamefest Sofa Tour"

My son just keeps moving back into the garage. His Sis likes to point out to everyone that her brother 'lives in the garage'. I love your family they are so much more entertaining than mine. Hope the foot is better & that your Mum has had good weather so she can enjoy your sandals.

[chris-king-2005.livejournal.com]

Ah, the continuing saga of Keira's Adventures with Cousin Stan....

You rock. Apparently your Grandma agrees.

[jimpage363.livejournal.com]

You, your grandmother and your Cousin Stan were obviously raised right. (And with a perverse sense of humor that truly leaves me in stitches every time)

[otrame.livejournal.com]

My mother was in charge of the chickens when she was a child. She continues to hate them.

The chickens in the car remind me of an incident related to me by a friend. He is a much better story teller than I will ever be, but I'll try.

Mike, a country boy, heavy equipment operator, and actually quite excellent amateur archaeologist, had a friend stop by his house one night to talk about something. The friend got out of his truck and left the door ajar. He and Mike talked for perhaps half an hour. Unbeknownst to either, Mike's elderly old hound got into the truck and was sitting on the passengers side of the car. Since this was out in the country, there was very little light. Mike's friend was completely unaware that he had company until the dog gave him a big smootchy, slobbery lick up the side of his neck.

Mike said, "Never saw anyone get out of a truck so fast in my life."

[khayli.livejournal.com]

Worse when someone raises an emu in the chook house and the damned thing hated when you went to get the eggs...the damned thing persisted in sleeping in the chook run for years,i hated that emu and to this day i do not regret the day i threw a brick at it..aussie icon or not emu's do not belong in chook runs and my aunt had to be certifiable enough to call it lachie ( named after one of our governors, personally mum says it should have been called bligh)

[antesqueluz.livejournal.com]

Vigilante justice at its finest. Love it!

[silvarbelle.livejournal.com]

So the chickens were basically you and Stan in bird form. XD

Golly, but your family is pure entertainment!

[justalurkr.livejournal.com]

I love that you were in fitlrst grade and you family already knew enough to suggest deescalation.

[serenaharkness.livejournal.com]

I'm gonna make a song for the psychotic chickens......chickens! Two psychotic chickens! Chickens! Two psychotic chickens!....That's all I've got so far. I'm working on it...gotta put something in there about destroying the inside of the car.

[blackchaps.livejournal.com]

O. M. G. I am NEVER pissing you off.

Also? We had a chicken like that. We celebrated when it died. I still wish we'd eaten him.

[inu-spockya.livejournal.com]

my mom had an Araucana rooster that drew blood on all of us, even her. he wasn't very but he was evil. she named him Pecker. o.O

your family stories always crack me up! and yay grandma!! heh heh heh...