and ...

there was tons of carl's family at the party, people you only see at weddings and funerals, and only then if there's a free drink in it for 'em. All of 'em standing around telling each other lies about how good they think each other looks. And they don't. none of 'em. There wasn't one single person who looked 'good for their age'. Nobody ever tells the fucking truth. Why don't they just come out and say it. "you look like you're dying uncle bill." It's all bullshit! Carl's granddad was there and at one point Carl's nan actually leant over the table to feel his pulse to see if he was still with us. What a way to live. Shove him in a home for god's sake. do yourself a favour. he won't mind. he probably won't know anything about it. you have to be cruel to be kind in my book. Then there's the obligatory taking down of phone numbers and saying, "I'll call you next week, let's not leave it another 5 years." and you actually put the fucking number in your phone, both of you, standing there, squinting through the disco lights, trying to put each others numbers in, making sure you get the last digit wrong by accident. It's a con. You know it. feel the guilt as you read this. that's because you know i'm telling the truth. we're cowards that's why. We like the idea that we're good relatives when if truth be told we couldn't give a fuck. Maybe I'm wrong but I know I'm not.