Family functions are Decadent and Depraved

I knew as soon as the invite came through the door that this would not be an enjoyable event. I mean, I get on fine with my family, but that doesn't mean Saturday night stuck in a knackered old Working men's club with every stinking one of them is something I find in the least bit favourable. I like seeing my family in dribs and drabs, the way it's meant to be. All at once is all a bit much for everyone. Nobody seems to know who they should be talking to. The host always has to talk to everyone at least once.. I always play games with the host, darting away as soon as I see them making a direct course for me. They either deem this insulting and ignore me in the most obvious way - standing almost next to me and talking to everyone around me - or they are baffled to the point of upset. Poor individuals.. they have too much belief that what they feel is right. This is rarely the case. The secret to living a bearable existence on this piece of s**t half destroyed planet is to be ignorant. Of everything possible. This is the secret of it all, and it shall stay that way until we destroy what's left of this god awful existence. Here in the UK we don't have a dream, but if we did it would certainly be as meaningless as the one stateside. There is no hope of moving up any sort of social ladder. Oppression is everywhere, and always will be as long as we have a vicious, pointless monarchy and therefore a social class system. Equality, my friend, left the building , though it's certainly questionable that it was ever here at all.

Then comes the dividing into the little groups you will spend your night with. You will NOT enjoy this. Your are not meant to. No, you're only meant to bear it, and still only barely. Of all the places I could be, this is on the list of worsts. I do hate to moan, but if I don't, someone else much. Just look at it as me giving you a break from moaning by venting it myself. It is at this point that the erratic watch checking begins. Firstly, it's all subtle glances, some excuse or other to check but eventually, you forget that etiquette if really required and resort to plain rudeness. Of course, the host doesn't mind because they're doing exactly the same thing. It was never their idea to throw such an event, but an age old ideology from parents and elderly relatives alike says that such events have to occur. The elderly are always thrilled at the idea of a large family event, yet at the point of impact, they detest loud music, and the thought of everything anyone has ever done to wrong them suddenly seems so fresh it's as if they're back in that conflict they were never a part of originally. For my father it was Vietnam, grandparents? the big one. I don't know why no matter where they were in the world, even years after, they always try hard with their stories of conflict they never saw. All they did was hear the news, see the pictures of a disaster so unnatural the Earth itself makes life hard for all the tyrants involved.

The DJ is always too old for any taste, yet so mentally unaged as to think music from the eighties, the worst period in history, is an acceptable crime to commit. Nobody dances. I'm not sure anyone can actually dance. In fact a love of dancing should be classed as a form of mental illness. Nobody says anything, and conversation isn't allowed to be anything other than education and work. Anything else would constitute something bearable, and no one wants to give the impression they're having a good time.

By the time an acceptable time comes around to leave, you don't feel like leaving. Your body has adapted into the lack of comfort and the never ceasing boredom, leaving you stranded in a limbo of states. Stuck in a situation where, although you want nothing more than to take the high road out of this stuffy fucked up room full of inebriated family members, you are so apathetic as to be physically incapable of doing so. Once this is overcome, however, you make the worst last impression. You make the mistake of taking full advantage at your body's final ability to get the hell away, and end up rushing all the goodbyes you are forced to make by the eager and beady stares of relatives you despise. As soon as you get out of the door and feel the cool evening wind blowing on your face, you feel the relief of being out, and never having to go back

I f*****g hate family functions