Tell me something interesting about your family or a member of your family.
My Aunt is a fashion designer in Toronto who specializes in powersuits for female news anchors.
My Great Uncle, whom I've only met twice, is a Yakuza in the Japanese mafia. He's missing half of his pinky finger and when I met him the first time (Christmas 1987) he gave me a thousand dollars in fifties in a bankroll.
My Mum's Dad was an average, poor, working class Glaswegian.
In 1939 (or late 1938) he realised that Britain was heading for a war. So, he thought: "If I join up now, there's a better chance of me getting a decent army job, rather than if I wait to get enlisted".
So, one day he was standing at the army recruitment office, in line with dozens of other people. And he noticed that people who went to some schools were put in one room and people who had went to other schools were put in another.
My Granddad lied and said he'd been to one of the top universities. He became a navigator on a weather airplane above Canada for the whole of WWII.
He was shot down once though.
Originally posted by shavixmirIs there a punchline here? How does one get shot down over Canada?
My Mum's Dad was an average, poor, working class Glaswegian.
In 1939 (or late 1938) he realised that Britain was heading for a war. So, he thought: "If I join up now, there's a better chance of me getting a decent army job, rather than if I wait to get enlisted".
So, one day he was standing at the army recruitment office, in line with dozens of other ...[text shortened]... on a weather airplane above Canada for the whole of WWII.
He was shot down once though.
"My father was a relentlessly, self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a 15 year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes, he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy - the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical - summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring, we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds. Pretty standard, really. At the age of 12, I received my first scribe. At the age of 14, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum. It's breath-taking, I suggest you try it."
Originally posted by rbmorrishaha, Dr. Evil. he didn't go through six years of evil school for nothing
"My father was a relentlessly, self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a 15 year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize. He would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes, he would accuse chestnuts of be ...[text shortened]... es. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum. It's breath-taking, I suggest you try it."