D is for Disowned

That little friend request icon sits on my Facebook home page silently mocking me. I’ve yet to get a hold of Motherland to find out exactly what the fuck she was thinking by signing up for Facebook. As I’ve said before, technology isn’t my family’s forte. I’m quite surprised that she figured out how sign up for Facebook

I’m not particularity worried about hiding anything on my profile except for one thing: My status messages. My pics, while boob-a-licious, are hardly scandalous to my mom. She’ll look at my heaving bosom and congratulate me on inheriting the sweater puppets gene. Though there are some pics with me smoking a ciggie that won’t go over too well, but I’ve ::cough::quit::cough Really. I mean it.

What won’t go over so well are my status messages, especially during the current political season. Take for instance my current message : Picking a vaj as veep. Really? My ovaries are not impressed.

You see, my mummy is a Republican. And not just a Republican, but a Rush Limbaugh-listening, Bush loving, would-be-a-NRA-member-but-is-askeered-of-guns Republican.

I grew up listening to Rush Limbaugh’s daily radio show. It was a refreshing break from the Southern Gospel, Classical music and sermons which were the only other approved radios shows in our home. His bumper music alone was a main reason I loved listening to him. It was the only time I could listen to “worldly” music and not get in trouble. Thanks to Rush’s dissection of the William Kennedy Smith rape trial, MommaPithy was able to tell lil’ Pithy about the birds and the bees during commercial breaks. It. was. awkward.

So with that upbringing and a conservative Baptist college experience, is it any wonder that I am the complete opposite?

Once upon a time (during the last election) I received a funny little forward of Bush jokes. I chuckled and sent them to some friends and included my mom on that list thinking she would see the humor in the jokes. The last time I was so wrong about something it involved a perm.

Later that afternoon I received a call at work from my mother. A hysterical, in tears, weeping and gnashing of teeth kinda call. Mom had read my email. She was horrified that I had thought to pass along something that besmirched the good name of our Commander in Chief. I had been raised better than that. How could I turn my back on how I was raised? How could I turn the values that my mother taught me into such a mockery? Nothing, NOTHING could be worse than me, horrors of horrors, voting Democrat!!!!

My mom followed her diatribe by telling me that if I were to continue this downward spiral towards the Blue States, I would be disowned. Oooh, burn….you mean I won’t inherit the fleet of vintage cars that include the 1974 Chevy El Camino (that doesn’t run), the 1989 Chevy Celebrity (no AC) or the 1990 Pontiac Gran Am??? Or the koi pond w/ the two remaining diseased little koi that the cat doesn’t even try to eat?? Or palatial family estate that is undoubtedly built on Indian burial ground?? Yes, mom, that’ll really teach me.

After the disowning, she then lowered her Right Hand of Doom: She compared me to PsychoCousin and said I was worse than him. PyschoCousin comes by his nickname truthfully. A divorced middle-aged, porn addict that was kicked out of the Army during the build-up to Iraq because he was too crazy for the military, later diagnosed as schizo and doesn’t take his meds. Compared to checking the little “D” on the voter registration card, he was sane.

As you can see, my social cleavage shots are are hardly anything to worry about. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to see if status messages can be privatized.


~ by pithycomments on September 2, 2008.

9 Responses to “D is for Disowned”

  1. 1) I find it completely beneath you to follow any partisan bandwagon, regardless which (compliment intended).

    2) You can delete your status’s one-by-one by viewing your own profile (click your name at the top of any Facebook page), hovering over the scandalous messages will bring up an “Edit” box. Within this box is a “delete” option. Now go forward and cleanse thy image.

  2. Wow. My sister and I are the only Democrats in our family as well (maybe my daughter… not sure). My mom is still convinced that if I was back in the Baptist Church choir, and I got my hair cut, then my life would return to the perfection that it was when I was living at home. Little does she realize that that’s exactly the reason I DON’T do those things.

  3. During my usual Sunday Chat With Mom, I joked that eCrush Boy was at “the Convention of Evil” this week. The next day, I open up my email to find a FIVE PAGE diatribe from my father, explaining the error of my ways, why Obama is the next Carter (aka Spawn of the Devil), how the world will stop spinning if I vote for anybody but a Republican, and reminding me that my beloved father gave nearly 30 years of his life for Our Country and that does NOT include Draft Dodging Democrats (because they all are draft dodgers, right?).

    Needless to say, I feel your pain.

  4. You give me hope that not everyone is brainwashed to vote the way their parents do, thus promulgating this “hooray for you getting pregnant at 17 because your parents believed you wouldn’t actually have sex like a normal teenager and now you will of course raise your child at the wise age of 17 and marry the love of your life, father of your child, although you’ll likely end up divorced in three years, but at least you have family values” mentality!

  5. You can put your mother on “Limited Profile” so she can only see certain things on your Facebook page.

  6. I think we’re related. Your mom sounds like my mom. I stupidly tried to engage her in a conversation about Palin the other night. I was met with silence and then – “I think she was a brilliant choice.” Which was met by my complete silence.

  7. I am sorry your mom is on Facebook- my mom found me two weeks ago but I am confident that she still doesn’t know how to use it… my Aunt on the otherhand…

  8. I’ll be friends with your Mom.

  9. @ Miserable curmudgeon: Glad to see you’ve upgraded from bastard to curmudgeon. Umm, thanks (I think) and it will takes miles of fabric and a wee bit of soap to cleanse this image. I suggest you start buying stock in Dove.

    @ gilahi: Mumsy has long given up any hope on my returning to any sort of church.

    @ kjohnsonesq: Doncha just luuuuv the email lectures from parents Re: your dating life. My dad stopped getting updates after he lectured me on dating when I mentioned my first “church” date in college. Apparently going to the campus church w/ a dude and a NKJV Bible made me a woman of questionable morals.

    @ The Multi-talented and Menially Employed, J.D.: I think we might be far and few between. Of my college friends, I’m the only one that turned out this “bad.”

    @ Golden Silence: Done and done.

    @ didi: We haven’t touched that one yet. Should be interesting since she thinks women shouldn’t be in politics. Or have the vote. Yeeeeeeah.

    @ Dmbosstone: I don’t think she’s figured it all out yet. She hasn’t posted on my wall. And if my aunts join, you will hear the screams through the interwebs.

    @ Phil: She likes ’em young, blond-hair and blue-eyed. If the descrip fits, I’ll fwd your email to her.

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