Aunt Marcella

My Aunt Marcella is a hot shit.

Years ago she came to a political debate that I was a participant in. During the question and answer segment, she got on a rant "asking" a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it question of all the other candidates. I think I was supposed to treat her like an anonymous shill... but when it came to my turn to answer, I blew her cover.

I said something like, "If this lady says it's that way, she knows what she's talking about...she's my aunt."
Everyone laughed, and in conjunction with her Irish immigrant nature, she loudly swore at me.
"DAMN IT, Danny, you're not supposed to tell." Everyone laughed harder.

Marcella took after Gramma LaMarsh (Her second husband's name).
When Gramma came to live with us, my Mother warned the kids not to talk to Gramma about politics or religion.
It was like the old Irish joke about a man witnessing a bar fight and saying in a brogue..."Is this a private fight or can anyone join in?"

Hard New York Irish immigrant lanugage was tough, foul and derogratory without being hateful.

Telling a story one Thanksgiving, my wonderful motor-mouth Grandmother was telling the story of the boarding house she ran. Amoung the boarders were two gay guys living there together. So when Gramma came to describe the couple she said, "And then there was the two cock-suckers at the end of the hall."
As a boy, I almost choked on my turkey.

Gramma Mary Cloonan LaMarsh, Uncle George, Aunt Corrine.


George never swears. Actually I think he does swear when talking about Bush.

Anyway, Uncle George is a poet.
Cursing is not elegant, rhythmic nor personal enough for poetry. But for politics ... foul language is more than appropriate.

"Viagra, VIAGRA...I don't need no stinking Viagra."

Here is the book on Fat Bill.

He is more powerful than most New Mexicans think.He is richer than most people want to believe.

I asked some Texas tourists what they thought of our guilt ridden former draft dodger Governor Fat Bill Richardson.
"That war monger. We know about him."
"Wow" I said "cool. Who are you supporting in the Texas Governor's race?'
"We are supporting Kinky Friedman. We know him." And the second nice white Texas lady added..."He's our neighbor."

I couldn't resist..."At least he can read and write, unlike that other famous Texan that's in the White House."
"And he (Kinky) writes some really fine music" said one of the women in that lovely southern drawl.

As the Texas tourist turned to leave I quickly said, as I say to every tourist I meet in Santa Fe..."Do you realize that We have the fattest Governor in the 48 contiguous States?'

The two nice lady laughed and one said as they continued down Palace, "Now that we believe."

I Got It Made Day