I'm bored... can someone give me a funny story? it doesn't have to be true!?

Question

If it's true, make it a funny one like your first roller coaster ride... how scared you felt... if not, make it weird. Whoever has the best story wins best answer!

Answer 1

This one is a true story as well as a weird one. If you have trouble believing it, just remember that truth is stronger than fiction. Don't call me crazy. Just look at the Scotchman's family.

A Scottish-born "stonecutter" who married into my mother's family apparently tried to chisel the Antichrist, or some strange child who was a combination of Damien from 'The Omen' or Problem Child onto me. Apparently the baby was supposed to have been born before I was out of high school. When I was fifteen, I could no understand why some people seemed surprised and disappointed that I did not already have a baby. After all, they did not want to see their own daughters in the same position. I was not supposed to know about what he had done, of course. I was supposed to be tricked into it and therefore left vulnerable. Apparently, making me the mother of the Antichrist was supposed to make the Scotchman's own daughter very virtuous on the exchange system on which a lot of Scotchmen like to operate. Many people appear to believe that nothing can be done or accomplished except through exchanging. They seem to think that all resources, including nontagible ones are finite and nothing more can be earned.

The Scotchman, "Uncle 33rd Degree Scotty", married my mother's sister Greed-el. Greed-el is not her real name, which should come as no surprise. Her real name is Helen. What kind of woman gets a nickname like Greed-el? To make matters worse, she is proud of it and her grandchildren even call her Greed-el. The Scotchman was a respectable businessman by day. Nobody could ever explain exactly what he did for a living. They just knew that he made a lot of money. He cut deals. The Scotchman himself was adopted. He was born illigitimate, and like Osama bin Laden, has about three different versions of his biography. In some versions, he was not even born in Scotland. The account in his obituary conflicts with his own account that I heard myself.

The Scotchman pulled off a sneak "deal" one time during which he visited my grandparents and brought someone else along with him. Nobody would or could say who was with him, although they tried to get it out of my grandfather. My grandparents were kind of naïve about Scottish customs and practices and worshiped the ground he walked on. They thought he made a lot of money because he was industrious and intelligent. They felt privileged to go along with him. It seems that the Scotchman broke some of the rules of his own "system" that he thought was great. In short, he robbed our family blind. His "deal" was supposed to assure them all more. I did not know much about what had happened at the time. I knew that something was wrong, and that my parents were extremely upset and angry. My father, who only tolerated him and hardly knew him, said he did not think he would go around him again. We next to never saw the Scotchman or his wife and two kids. We had only seem them about three times before that "deal". We did not care much for our two cousins, who were his son and daughter. We found the whole works of his family as kind of phony and pretentious.

"Uncle 33rd Degree Scotty" was also a 33rd degree alcoholic who became Jack Nicholson in 'The Shining' every night. One summer when I was staying at his place for a few days, he hit the roof late at night and was terrifying like you would not believe. I was so frightened I never got to sleep until about 2:00 in the morning. The fight was all over a few ounces of scotch that my aunt had given to someone who had been visiting in the daytime. Like Scarlett O'Hara in 'Gone with the Wind', I said to myself, "Tomorrow is another day". However, the next night was even worse than the first. Worse yet, the fighting went on a third night. The fourth night he did not even come home. He probably just went out and got drunk.

I think that the Scotchman just used an incidental excuse to do what he had been wanting too do for a long time anyways. He threatened to do something to punish me for a relatively minor taxi prank his daughter and I along with a friend of his daughter had tried to pull off while I was staying at their place. Being bored in the summer holidays and not having had enough to do, we called a taxi to two of the neighbours'houses and he found out. One of the neighbours could not speak English, and we just wanted to know how she would explain to the taxi driver that she did not speak English. The other nieghbours came over as retentious snobs, and it was because we had offended the snobs, whom the Scotchman respected that we got into trouble. However, he only wanted to punish me. Now come on, is having the Antichrist for a son just punishment for two taxi pranks you played when you were a kid?

My former next-door-neighbour used to be a teacher and in the week between Christmas and New Year's some students played a much bigger trick on her. They must have called every taxi in town to her place. After the taxis had arrived, the tow trucks started pulling in. Again, they must have called every tow truck outlet in town. Fortunately although it was winter, the conditions were not blizzardy. It looked like some of the drivers had the attitude that as long as they were all there together they might as well have some fun, because they chatted for quite a while. Furthermore, after the tow trucks had arrived, the pizzas started coming in. Did they get the Antichrist panned onto them for that one? I am not sure they even got a scolding.

The rumour, however, must have been taken seriously. For example, when my daughter started kindergarten, this intrusive and persistent school social worker was breathing down my neck right from the beginning. In fact, she was in the school on registration day. She wanted to meet with me all the time against my wishes. I could not understand why I was being singled out in this way. However, she would not get off my case until I had taken my daughter to a medical specialist, of all people, and had her checked out for birthmarks. Apparently this special child is supposed to have an ominous birthmark. My daughter had not really been sick at the time, nor di she have any unusual skin conditions or markings. At any rate, I later found the pediatrician's report stating that the child had been checked out for birthmarks and that no birthmarks had been discovered. The report was in a lawyer's file. My mother was extremely angry when she read it. The pediatrician was a well-respected doctor about town and appeared to take her work seriously. I am not sure what she was doing checking out a child for ominous birthmarks and pretending to be credible. The school system that seemed to have been so concerned about birthmarks was lame and corrupt right from the beginning.

At any rate, it appears that the one who was too good to do the job might have done it. The Scotchman's lovely jam tart of a daughter might have chiselled the baby onto herself. It appears that one night, while her husband was out of town, she met a man who reminded her so much of her father, by then deceased, that she could not resist having a fling with him. I had kind of suspected she had the hots for her own father. A short time later her her husband arrived back and nine months later this unusual child was born. Apparently her son is a most unusual child. He is extremly greedy and domineering. One time, when he was about the age of four and on vacation, he astounded people with his uncanny ability to steal all the toys away from all the kids on the beach. He appeared very self-satisfied just to have them in front of him to look at, kind of like a millionaire with his collection of Rolls Royces. However, when he was about ten, his family became concerned that he had never been sick a day in his life. He is also very strong and physically adept, and is said to excel in soccer and dirt bike racing. His mother is minimally qualified as a psychologist and likes to think she has a solution to everyone's problems. She uses her psychology credentials as an excuse to intrude on other people. However,if she is really concerned that she has the Antichrist for a son, I think she is really telling on herself in terms of character and mental stability.

I have not been told about any of this business directly, but over time I have overheard a lot of conversations among my mom's relatives.

I am not too concerned about this Antichrist thing that was done. I have a feeling that a lot of Scotchmen may have tried it. In a way, I think it would be funny if the Scotchman's daughter does have it. It would be a funny joke on the men of the world who elevated these chiseled hoes on their white stonecutter pedestals. As for her husband, I think he might just be one more "married sucker". The Scotchman's son wife hated her inlaws so much she hit my cousin with a real nasty divorce suit. Even her family could not lunderstand why my relatives outside the Scotchman's immediate family sided in with her and thought he had it coming.