Thursday, April 10, 2008

Tony

was my grandma's self-hating Mexican husband's obese, Vietnam-scarred son. Whenever Tony visited them in their retirement community, my grandma would bring out "the special chair" out of fear that his magnitude would destroy the normal furniture. I remember launching model rockets with Tony once. He got way into it. Like he ran around singing and getting really hyper like I was the first person he'd had human contact with in a really long time. Also, when I was six, I remember him showing me a scrapbook picture of a Viet Cong's decaying, severed foot. That made my parents uncomfortable. Which confused Tony. Now that I look back on it, I think Tony was probably a pretty unhappy guy.

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