Jade Falcon
Just to piss you off.
- Joined
- Dec 22, 2014
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Yep. God fuck us, everyone!
So let's hear it. What about Christmas pisses you off? Is it the holiday shopping? Your in-laws? The dog that slobbers on your leather jacket when you go to visit friends or family? Is it the same ol' Christmas songs that you've heard a million times before?
Got any bad Christmas stories to tell?
I do. Kind of.
When my father was a young man, long before he met my mother, he had a friend who's grandfather was.....er.....well, he was batshit crazy. There's no other words for it. "Grandpa Hieymen" was his name. He was one of those "crazy bad-asses" who people all over town knew about. I'm not sure if he served in the Military, but it sounds to me like he would have been quite at home with the Marines.
He was once summoned to the local police office (I don't know the full details behind it) over a complaint of some sort, and they wanted to meet with him as a sort of welfare check. They knew he kept guns in the house, and they wanted to confiscate them. He looked the investigator strait in the eye and said, "yeah, I got guns. You can have them. And I'll give them to you....one bullet at a time."
Needless to say, that didn't go over well. They cut him loose, but showed up at his home the next day while he was at work and confiscated all of his guns.
But they couldn't find his .44 Magnum. Hmm....
Well, later on that year, around Christmas time, they were expecting family and company. Him and his wife had the house all set up and decorated, and all was well.
Grandpa was sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper, when his wife snuck up behind him and shot him point-blank in the back of the head with a full-power .44 Magnum round. She then went into the bathroom, stuck the barrel in her mouth, and blew her head off.
Family and friends show up. They open the door, walk in, and...........yeah. Brain matter and blood everywhere, with the living room all lit up and merry. I can only imagine what it must have looked like.
Apparently, when the police opened up his basement, they found some sort of amatuer knife operation going on down there. They found stacks and stacks of steel files that had been ground down and made into knives. Along with hand-loads for his guns and loading equipment.
Yeah. The guy was batshit crazy.
That evening, when the scene had been cleaned up, my father and his friends, including his buddy Hieymen, all threw a party and got absolutely wasted in the same house. They came up with a song to the tune of "Deck The Halls" to commemorate the occasion:
Deck the halls with Grandpa Heiymen,
falalalalaaaa lalalalaaaa
Brain tissue is a-flyin'
falalalalaaaa lalalalaaaa
Bits of tissue, lots of blood,
falalalala lalalalaaaa
Grandma shot him with a .44 Stud,
falalalalaaaa lalaaa laaa laaaaaaa!
Boy, I wish I could have been alive when my father was a young man. Must have been quite an experience.
So what are yours? Or what do you hate about Christmas?
Discuss.
So let's hear it. What about Christmas pisses you off? Is it the holiday shopping? Your in-laws? The dog that slobbers on your leather jacket when you go to visit friends or family? Is it the same ol' Christmas songs that you've heard a million times before?
Got any bad Christmas stories to tell?
I do. Kind of.
When my father was a young man, long before he met my mother, he had a friend who's grandfather was.....er.....well, he was batshit crazy. There's no other words for it. "Grandpa Hieymen" was his name. He was one of those "crazy bad-asses" who people all over town knew about. I'm not sure if he served in the Military, but it sounds to me like he would have been quite at home with the Marines.
He was once summoned to the local police office (I don't know the full details behind it) over a complaint of some sort, and they wanted to meet with him as a sort of welfare check. They knew he kept guns in the house, and they wanted to confiscate them. He looked the investigator strait in the eye and said, "yeah, I got guns. You can have them. And I'll give them to you....one bullet at a time."
Needless to say, that didn't go over well. They cut him loose, but showed up at his home the next day while he was at work and confiscated all of his guns.
But they couldn't find his .44 Magnum. Hmm....
Well, later on that year, around Christmas time, they were expecting family and company. Him and his wife had the house all set up and decorated, and all was well.
Grandpa was sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper, when his wife snuck up behind him and shot him point-blank in the back of the head with a full-power .44 Magnum round. She then went into the bathroom, stuck the barrel in her mouth, and blew her head off.
Family and friends show up. They open the door, walk in, and...........yeah. Brain matter and blood everywhere, with the living room all lit up and merry. I can only imagine what it must have looked like.
Apparently, when the police opened up his basement, they found some sort of amatuer knife operation going on down there. They found stacks and stacks of steel files that had been ground down and made into knives. Along with hand-loads for his guns and loading equipment.
Yeah. The guy was batshit crazy.
That evening, when the scene had been cleaned up, my father and his friends, including his buddy Hieymen, all threw a party and got absolutely wasted in the same house. They came up with a song to the tune of "Deck The Halls" to commemorate the occasion:
Deck the halls with Grandpa Heiymen,
falalalalaaaa lalalalaaaa
Brain tissue is a-flyin'
falalalalaaaa lalalalaaaa
Bits of tissue, lots of blood,
falalalala lalalalaaaa
Grandma shot him with a .44 Stud,
falalalalaaaa lalaaa laaa laaaaaaa!
Boy, I wish I could have been alive when my father was a young man. Must have been quite an experience.
So what are yours? Or what do you hate about Christmas?
Discuss.
