Back when I used to post stupid stuff in the blog space on Myspace, every post I did was titled “My… something or another.” I did this because I have an unhealthy obsession with Scrubs and that’s how they title their episodes.
Writing out the title of this post just brought me back to those uber-dork days. Just thought I’d share that.
My dad’s family has a really amazing farm out near Crawford, TX. My dad recently started staying out there, and I have to tell ya’ll, despite the fact that there is no heat, there is a lot of poison ivy, and there is always the possibility of being eaten by wild hogs-I’m a little bit jealous.
The place is absolutely beautiful and some of my most favorite memories happened out there. There is a lot of land, your typical barn house, and a little white house that is surrounded by a picket fence… and a creek called “Hog Creek” runs through the land and as a dam and everything. It’s perfect.
When I was young, my family would spend the weekends out there and my days would be spent catching trees fish, wading in the creek or a metal tub, or walking the grounds playing pretend or trying to get the horses to eat grass out of my hand. Even now my family goes out there quite often to shoot guns and fish.
If you had any doubt I was a true Texan, I hope I cleared that up.
My family decided long ago, that if there were ever any nuclear wars or zombie attacks, the farm would be our meeting place. Besides being near the likes of George W…. I do think that it is the ideal place for an emergency.
I always thought it would be kinda fun to have to live out there on nothing but wild animals and beer.
I think I could survive. I’m sure it would be a little tough, but I could handle it. I mean… I wouldn’t even have to shower very often, or maybe ever. How awesome would that be? I’ve even already learned some very important rules about living off the land. Like a few years ago, my friend LA decided we would paint our faces with the juice that comes out of the pretty fruits that grow on cacti. Not a good idea. Those little fruits have many invisible, yet painful tiny little stickers that will stay in your skin for weeks.
ANNNND I won’t try that again.
But moreover, I yesterday as I was perusing facebook all day for a few moments in my spare time at work- I remembered the main reason that I could never live out at the farm. You see, I saw my dad’s newest facebook profile picture….
Yes. My father decided to change his profile pic. to be a picture of one of my ancestors. I really feel bad not knowing who he was exactly as I’m sure I’ve been told many a time, but regardless-we are related.
Harmless enough, right?
WRONG.
You see, when I was a kid I have always had a very vivid imagination. When I was a child I was scared of monsters under my bed, monsters in the toilet, monsters in the closet, zombie pets, moving dolls, spiders, aliens, the Jabberwalkie from Alice in Wonderland… and a wall in my farmhouse that has pictures of several of my ancestors hanging on it. This being one of them.
I know, I know. They’re just pictures of people whom I share my blood with, but ya’ll don’t understand the fear that their faces put it in my heart. Whenever I walked around the house , especially at night- I could feel their presence. Their eyes follow you around the room. And they all look so sinister. I guess I was afraid that they would crawl right out of those photos and beat me with a wooden paddle or something.
I got my dad to take pics of the others and send them to me. They aren’t the best quality, but you get the picture. hehehe, no pun intended.
Ok so they aren’t as scary here on this page. But I’m telling you people, in the house, at night… It’s a whole different story!!!!
I wonder what John Cusack’s ancestors look like. Since I am John Cusack’s girlfriend and all.
And don’t forget to ask me questions (in the comments, email, or tweet me bitches!!!) Anything on any topic… and I will answer! Or make something up. I will start answering them next week. Thanks for those who have already submitted some!
Have a humpalicious day!
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