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WOOOR YOU LIKE Great and Woeful Relatives EH?


Gus Mears
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Depending on how you look at it, this time of year is either great because you see family members, or woeful because you have to see family members. Like most, it's a bit of both for me. Although I make great pains to not see the ones I dislike more than once a year tops.

 

 

The bad

 

Racist Uncle John: Claims that Southampton was great before the Chinese moved in. Once winked at me and went 'good thing about Wiltshire is that there aint many wogs'. Probably has a picture of Oswald Mosley in his khazi. Tosser. A thick one at that.

 

Ian (not the one on here): Still lives in his parents house, despite being 42. Obviously has some mental condition, but his parents won't admit it for some unbeknown reason. Once tried to chat up my Mum who he is related to. Should probably be in prison.

 

The good 

 

My Gran is an absolute tower of strength, despite being older than Methuselah. Still cooks a Christmas dinner for 8 on the big day and still gives tours of local historical landmarks to confused tourists who probably wonder why they are being shown the Tythe Barn by Ms Marple.  Despite her shrivelled up, ET like appearance, evokes the power of a tough upbringing in North Wales when provoked and could kill someone with a glare at ten paces.

 

Uncle Stu: Used to be a postie and sadly got ran over twenty years ago, causing a degree of brain damage. Despite this set back, raised a family and is a lovely, albeit slightly dimwitted bloke. Him secretly coming outside for a cigar with me and Dad behind his wife's back is clockwork regular whenever they are down, as is him absolutely tanking any wine provided at a family meal as my Great Uncle desperately tries to instil him with knowledge about it's bouquet. He kind of nods for a minute, before quaffing an entire glass in about five seconds. 

 

Anyone with good/bad anecdotes and relatives? Surely we all have them.

Edited by Gus Mears
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Love the Danger Mouse story Scotty.

 

Just remembered another classic from Uncle Stu. For reasons unknown to the Gods, the family decided to put Stuart in charge of organising and lighting fireworks in my Gran and Grandpa's garden about 15 years ago. "We all ready to go down there folks?" inquired Stu in his thick and slightly slurred Leicester accent, reminiscent of a drunk Noddy Holder. We were more ready to go than he though, as he had inexplicably pointed the whole lot towards the fucking house and then proveeded to blast a bunch of fireworks at the entire family, who were lined up against the back side of the house. Like it was some incredibly elaborate firing squad scene from a Roger Moore Bond film. Thankfully, no one was killed, although Grandpa had third degree burns and I had a massive graze on my leg where Dad have thrown me to the ground. We never had fireworks ever again.

 

We're all going to have a racist Uncle, aren't we?

Edited by Gus Mears
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The Bad;

 

A cousin Ian. An utter cock of a man. He's about 10 years older than me, and bullied the shit out of me as a kid. He used to do sneaky things like stand beside me and pinch me in the back, that kind of stuff. He was still doing it when he was in his early 20s and being a complete dick. Then I hit a growth spurt, and got bigger than him, and he stopped. He then started doing the same to my young nephew until I told him to fuck off. A nasty bully, but only to kids.

 

My Dad. Depending on how he's feeling, can either be the funniest chap in the room, or the most miserable, grumpy sod imaginable. Doesn't like anyone taking the piss out of him at all, doesn't like anyone trying to out-alpha-male him, but if he's in the mood, he's hilarious.

 

No racist uncles, sadly.

 

The good:

 

My niece. She's 16, is a bit thick, but is incredibly funny without realising it. Told me about a year ago that her career ambitions were to be 'a professional animal toucher, you know, like stroking them and stuff without cleaning any of their shit up. Do zoo's have jobs like that?', and after I explained that zoo's preferred people who'd clean the animals, decided to be 'a professional drug dealer then'.

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This is rather simple.

 

The bad is essentially my Mum's side of the family. All confirmed scum bags with crimes including the likes of theft, rape and drug dealing. The worst is my Uncle James (the rapist). He used to beat up my dear old Gran for a period when she wouldn't give him money and we found out last year, after my Mum started looking after his sweet kid, that the kid wasn't to tell my Mum the "bad things" my Uncle does to him. Chilling, indeed. My Mum tried to go through the right procedures to get the kid away from him, but they found nothing to worry about, which is shocking because the kid lives in appalling conditions. In the end, the kid is terrified to go near my Mum because he thinks something drastic will happen to her. He's such a meek, pathetic person too and my Mum is a bovine lass.

 

The good is my Dad's side. Most of them are working class people done good, earning a good wage after working their arses off etc. Most of the credit goes to my Gran and dead Grandad, who were like the great grandparents you find in films, such was their old world principles. Rarely ever any drama. All just looking to get on with life.

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The bad:

 

My cousin Matt - Generally a little shit in his childhood consistently, but particularly abusive to his and never disciplined for it due to her disabilities and uncle Geoff being even more of a cunt to her. This went on until he was about 12 and on Christmas day threw a mug at her, hitting her in the face which led to my other aunty going round their house. She was giving him a massive bollocking while he sat casually playing his Mega Drive until he finally told her to fuck off, resulting in her twatting him in the mouth and smashing the Mega Drive. He ended up doing a bit of bird for burglary around age 20 and then fucking off to Glasgow to become a full time heroin addict. He's back down here now and I get regular updates from my nan about how he's got a flat and a job and is trying to turn his life around. I haven't seen him in about 15 years, but he'll always be a cunt to me. Not as much as his Dad though, which brings me to...

 

Uncle Geoff - Convicted of raping his own daughter from a very young age for who knows how long. Now done his time and back on the streets but completely cut off from everyone obviously.

 

Uncle Graham gets a mention here but in comparison is a saint really. Racist homophobe throughout my childhood and father to two boys, one of which is now engaged to a Jewish man. Possibly the last man to ever use the terms "Woofter" and "Shirtlifter". Talks in a cockney accent even though he's lived in the midlands since moving down from Scotland at the age of 5.

 

The Good:

 

My cousin, above. Top bloke in general. Does loads for charity and the local community. Voted primary school teacher of the year once.

 

My nan. The only person of that generation still alive in my family. Just love being in her company and taking my son round to see her. Always full of stories and has me in tears of laughter. Knows everything about everything and is mind blinding to sit and watch afternoon tv quizzes with.

 

My brother. He is the absolute voice of reason in this world. Hardworking bloke, keeps to himself and never causes any bother. Never had a sick day from work. Great uncle to my son. Gets on with everyone. Hasn't done anything remarkable, he's just a solid bloke which is rare to find.

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The bad

 

My cousin Lisa, utter bitch of a woman, cheated on her fella many times when they were younger yet still had two kids with him, got my uncle into trouble by bullshitting that he forced her into taking weed when it was her begging him for it, caused a ruckus outside my uncles when we went down for my cousin Angela's birthday over cab fare which saw my cousin Kate's now husband to get a bloodied lip and when she has a few is hideously nasty to her bipolar lesbian sister

 

Uncle Tom - youngest of my uncles, former YTS player at Tranmere Rovers, has two kids by two different women. Is pretty much the black sheep as he had a major drug problem for a few years which led him to be stabbed one year on Boxing Day at a hostel he was staying at. Had to move away from the city over to St Helens for his own safety and now only comes back for family occasions if someone drops him off/ takes him back (usually my uncle who also lives in Saints). Used to be someone I looked up to till I realised what a waste of space he is

 

The Good

 

My Cousin Kate - treated like absolute shit by her dad after my aunt died, shunned from everything and made to buy her own food etc. Met her now husband through work and became very independent, survived major blood loss twice, first after giving birth to her son 5 years ago then again last year when she had a miscarriage, neither incidents her dad bothered with seeing how she was

 

My Mum - matriarch of her family after my nan died, always does a lot for me and my sister, showed unbelievable courage and strength after my dad died in March, inspite of her broken heart, planning the funeral and sorting out the legal issues

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The Bad
Potentially taking the biscuit on racist family, my mother is UKIP's Lisa Duffy. Mayor of Ramsey and notable runner up in their first go round at a leadership election before the winner abruptly fucked off and Farage wombled back into his standard position. Doesn't believe in climate change, believes immigrants are ruining the country (when I first got engaged to my Indian fiancee, she refused to speak to me about it, and asked if she was only with me for a VISA), and has five other horrendous children, one of whom I recall hitting her teenage rebellious phase and fucking off to do heroin for a bit.
Haven't spoken to her since Brexit, except to throw a witty one-liner in response to her asking "What do you want for your birthday?", coming back with "Access to the common market." Still proud of that one.

The Good

My grandad, who has essentially been my parent since I was a child. Took me away every weekend, giving me peaceful respite from my parents domestic abuse saga, and has supported me in anything I do. Got me into wrestling, then supported me when I wanted to make it a career. Continued to support me when I left it ten years later to go into esports & live events which has finally worked out wonderfully for me. He's 73 and completely unstoppable. Kind, gentle, with some of the meanest wit I know, and always ready to go out for a drink. Absolute gem of a human, and the reason I turned out alright.

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I've got an uncle I secretly name 'CHEESE ON' to myself whenever I happen to either mention him or think about him owing to his years old habit, one he doesn't do at all any more, of referring to Cheese On Toast as 'CHEESE ON'. Not unusual because i've heard people refer to beans on toast as 'beans on' but the name stuck because whenever he either asked for 'CHEESE ON' or heard somebody was having 'CHEESE ON' he'd stand up and do this bizarre ritualistic dance where he'd wave his arms about like he was cupping two sets of imaginary bollocks and a running on the spot type of thing and shout out load a variation of -

 

"WHOOOOHOOHOHOAAA FUCKIN' BIT OF CHEESE ON HEY LIKE A BIT OF FUCKIN' CHEESE ON DO YOU LAD"

 

Which obviously always seemed completely mental to me, but it goes back to that entire side of the family doing the exact same thing every time you expressed any sort of interest in something. Years before it all one uncle went to see the Robin Hood film with his school and when he got back instead of asking him how it was or if he enjoyed the day out his other two brothers gathered round him with my mum and grandad and all made some sarcastic mass groan that sounded like 

"WHEEEEY THE ROBIN HOOD KID HEY WHEEY BEEN TO SEE ROBIN HOOD HAVE YOU GOOD WAS IT LIKED ROBIN HOOD DID YOU"

 

Until he had to leg it out of the room without saying anything. Yet similarly despite the experience, that uncle once saw me eating quiche at his dining room table and grabbed the back of my head and yelled to me

 

"BIT OF KWESH IS IT HEY LAD BIT OF FUCKING KWESH?!"

pronouncing it as 'Kwesh' the entire time and picking up handfuls of it and rubbing it into my face. That one had a particular habit of whenever he was asked to give something back once he'd nicked it and arsed about with it he'd shove it down the front of his trousers and shout that 'NOBODY CAN FUCKING HAVE IT NOW CAN THEY'. The one specific example I remember is when he had a coca cola lolly ice that I wanted a go of and instead of just saying no or some variant he did the aforementioned act and then lashed it into a football playing field we were walking past and stormed off home. He isn't my favourite uncle but he did once shag a wall during a game of charades and before giving us a clue to what it was or how many words he started shagging the wall in the room and going WHOS THIS WHOS THIS HEY and was spectacularly had off by my cousin who responded 

"well it's you shagging a wall isn't it"

Back to 'CHEESE ON' in closing though, he was always my favourite because despite being a lunatic who couldn't be trusted, as evidenced by the updates I get every few years saying he's been fired from the buses again for stealing fares, he was always given the responsibility of letting the fireworks off every year which always either resulted in the shed going on fire because he'd nailed the catherine wheel to it as if he was putting a shelf up or the time when he specifically aimed a load of rockets at Ken's greenhouse next door.

Edited by Cannibal Man
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