How My Family Starts to Learn That I Don’t Have Much of A Filter… But I Do Have A Blog.

16 Dec

My father had three sons until one at a time, each one started wearing dresses to school when they turned 12. We grew up playing soccer, wearing Adidas sambas, and male Umbro athletic shorts.  We spent our afterschool hours in the forests and creeks behind the various houses we lived in growing up. We used hot dogs, wire hangers, and what we’d later learn were red keg cups, to catch crawdads, tadpoles, and other various wildlife one might be able to keep in a plastic kiddie pool-turned-pond on our deck in the backyard.  We sang the entire Alanis Morrisette tape, Jagged Little Pill, from memory until the sun started setting and then we would finally return back with our catches. We watched Star Trek with our dad and took turns playing Wolfenstein 3-D around the computer.

One by one it became impossible to avoid the obvious: we weren’t going to be tomboys forever.

We moved to Portland from San Luis Obispo when Nancy and I were in middle school. I lost my baby fat and grew some of the biggest boobs around (B cup) and Nancy made girly friends for the first time.

Once we started high school it’s safe to say we were pretty damn into looking hot.

I think is when my dad began to imagine horrible things happening, and since we didn’t really tell him what we were doing, I’m pretty sure his poor imagination went wild.

I’ll never forget what he said to me when I was on my way out the door for my Freshman year homecoming dance.

“Uh. Make sure you wear protection.”

Nancy’s response:

“Don’t worry dad! I let her borrow my wrist guards and a helmet!”

We couldn’t help it.

As we all know, Facebook has become mainstream for everyone nowadays.

I’ve never been one to hide much about my life from my family or anyone else for that matter. I’ve always felt pretty well behaved for a human in this day and age.  I am very open. I think the biggest reason I have no problem doing comedy or stand up is because I’ve been openly making fun of myself and my family for so long that it doesn’t feel weird.

My family is just now starting to realize that along with me becoming a comedian (or trying to at least) is that they will become the subject of everyone else’s laughs. They are going to see/read things about me that they may never have thought I would be okay with the whole world knowing. Don’t get me wrong, I know where to draw the line. I won’t publish something unless I’ve asked permission if I think it’s a subject that may be a little too touchy. If it’s about me, whatever.

Rikki called me the other night right after Nancy had walked in the front door. I put her on speakerphone and she started telling us about how our dad called her the other day in a panic.

“Rikki! Someone hacked into your facebook account!”

“What?! What do you mean? What happened?!”

“Someone wrote something… about… well… uhm…. about a… about a penis.” Very uncomfortable for him to say….

Rikki instantly knows what this is about.

I love penis in and around my mouth.

A classic quote from Superbad.

Rikki left her Facebook account up and her male friend had written a nice little status update for her. This has happened to all of us and anyone can recognize a friend-hack when they see one. My dad on the other hand is new to Facebook and certain types of my generation’s humor. You can’t be mad at the guy, it’s kind of sweet. He really is panicked that one day one of his daughters is just going to go penis crazy and public about it or something.

My dad called Nancy a few days ago to discuss two pressing matters.

1. Rikki loves penis in and around her mouth.

2. Kate spends the night with way older men with kids and tells everyone on her blog.

Nancy, like Rikki did, explained that friends do these things to each other on Facebook. She explained how Preston frequently updates her status for her.

My roommates are the best. I’m even starting to like my sister.
My roommate rocks. Not my sister/the squatter…. but PRESTON.
My roommate rocks, once again. He’s gonna be on NBC dancing with Craig T Nelson. He’s so amazing, I just can’t stop raving about him. My sister’s just ok.
I take back everything i’ve been posting. KATE is in fact the most amazing roommate possible and the most precious sister anyone could hope for.
Yes. I am definitely more in love with my sister than ever before. Its Preston now who I’m starting to question now… I do like his new carnimals sweatshirt though.
My roommate Preston is the coolest, most talented, ingenius person I know. Check out his fantastic website. If he weren’t gay, we’d have beautiful mixed babies. I love asianssss!!

“Ugh this yeast infection is getting really itchy.”

“Just had the biggest poop, but it felt great to get it out.”

If you read these things on Facebook, you know it’s a prank.

One day I received a call from my dad when I was still living in New Orleans. He had seen a Craigslist Missed Connection that I had posted on Rikki’s wall.

“Rikki- I just wanted to let you know that I had the greatest sex ever with you when you were in New Orleans and I just wanted to say that I’m glad you loved my dick.” (Short version, but you get it…)

Naturally my dad reads this, doesn’t question the legitimacy of it, and shoots me a call. Poor thing. Can you imagine what horrible things must have exploded in his mind after reading something so gross about his daughter?!

I explained to him what Missed Connections are and that obviously it isn’t about his daughter. If it was, it most likely wouldn’t be posted on her Facebook page from her older, wiser, funnier sister, advertising it to the world, but in fact is funny because it just so happens to be a post to a ‘Rikki.’

So now my dad is going to have to get used to the fact that he has three grown, adult daughters, one of which has no filter and a blog.

Hey Dad, all you need to know is that you have three very responsible children and that even though I’m broadcasting my personal life (and yours and mom’s and everyone else’s) on the internet, it could be worse!  I’m writing for giggles, not having sex for money. Yet.

Is this a bad place to tell you that I’m pregnant and have a meth problem and need $20,000 to pay off a gambling debt?

Just kidding.

I’m just sitting in an office surrounded by people in suits and heels and complaining about the diet I put myself on while trimming my miniature rose bush plant that I got at the 99 Cent Store… I crochet sweaters… I work on an ice skating show… I’m lame.

My dad is just a moral, conservative person (I think) and doesn’t want the world to think we’re prostitutes. I totally get it.


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