Bad Luck Or Gene Pool?

These events actually happened. I was there for some of them and they are a true account of the events. My best friend wrote down these accounts that happened with her family and sent them to me, bringing back memories I found myself lmao, when I was reading them and had to post it.(actual id censored for anonymity)

While on an extended road trip, I witnessed a very close relative ask her husband why there were speed bumps before each toll booth. He responded nonchalantly, “That’s so blind people will know when they have to slow down and pay a toll”. (I’m not kidding!). She responded that that was a very good idea. After he and I erupted into laughter and about 3 or 4 miles down the road, she reached over and slugged him in the arm as hard as she could.

This same close relative was in a panic one day because the brand new vacuum cleaner her husband had bought her was busted and he was gonna KILL her! I quickly detected the problem was fixable by simply removing the pair of underwear from the hose.

Another close relative was in a panic one day because HER vacuum cleaner was busted. Once again, I came to the rescue…the solution: replace the over-full bag!

A different close relative was sitting in the waiting room of her doctor’s office when another patient wanting to kill some time with conversation asked her, “I like your perfume, what is it called?” To which this person replied (obviously without realizing it)…are you ready? “Cocaine”. I know, I know, cocaine, opium, it’s all the same, right?

A friend of mine asked a close relative of mine what the name of the disease was that she was just diagnosed with. She answered: “FeelMyVagina”. Can’t figure that one out? What she meant to say was “Fibromyalgia”.

Yet another close relative refused to wake up and go into the truck stop for a pit-stop after we’d been travelling 5 hours non-stop. She was grumpy and irritable and I knew she’d have to go 15 minutes after we got going again, so I made a sign and stuck it to the car window while she slept and we took care of business, it read: Knock three times for a good time.

No, we’re not from West Virginia, and no, I don’t THINK anyone married people they met at their family reunions…hhhmmm…that’s another story, I suppose.