Hand me the tissues

My mother's father; my grandfather, is just like my mother, likewise is my sister also like my mother, which is just like me.

We're extremely similar in one way, you see, we all cry very easily.
No, don't laugh, I'm serious! It's not the least bit amusing! It's absolutely hopeless! Imagine Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring has lasted for about five minutes and hobbit-children are running across the screen, my mother is clenching to the seat, crying endlessly. Like as the film La vita è bella (Life is beautiful) leaves my sisters mascara splattered around everywhere from the sofa to behind the television set by the time the intro has started. Picture Lilo & Stitch playing on a plane to Australia and I am crying so much the flight attendant stops to ask me (for the third time) if I'm okay. OF COURSE I'M NOT OKAY! THE GIRL AND THE BLUE SPACE-EXPERIMENT ARE FRIENDS, CAN'T YOU SEE IT'S UPSETTING?!

If it was only a matter of self-control it would change everything. But, unfortunately, we are as able to control this as we are of doing a kinky llama imitation. And the problem is, if you whacked us across the face with a sledge, I bet we wouldn't cry a bit. But do play "Mio bambino Caro" done by Renée Fleming and we'll be on our knees begging for mercy before you can say "drowning-accident". Which is excactly what it will be too, if you don't turn that blasted sad music off.

Bambi makes me weep, sniff, bawl, snivel, mawl, whimper and sob. Please hand me some tissues.


Foss said...

Grave of the fireflies! Grave of the fireflies!

annie said...

wow....what a sweet comment you left for me--thank you! you have quite an entertaining blog yourself! here's another musical recommendation for you: the promise ring. they're fantastic, but they'll surely make you cry, so consider yourself warned. :)

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