Auntie
My aunt Deborah died when I was five years old. She had just turned 22 and clumsily fell from the top of the building while putting some clothes out in the sun. All the family annually celebrate that date with a gastronomical feast, because she was no one's favorite (and I mean no one).
Oh Yeah, we hated her so much. I remember my father (in between taking sips of his whiskey) saying "That bitch, if she was alive, surely she would have voted for the Republican Party" and my mother agreeing between smiles... while my brothers and I were rolling around on carpet dying of laughter.
My dear Auntie, who should be burning in hell surrounded by some Popes and other Catholic sinners...
Oh Yeah, we hated her so much. I remember my father (in between taking sips of his whiskey) saying "That bitch, if she was alive, surely she would have voted for the Republican Party" and my mother agreeing between smiles... while my brothers and I were rolling around on carpet dying of laughter.
My dear Auntie, who should be burning in hell surrounded by some Popes and other Catholic sinners...