Where the Hell Am I?

Remember how I mentioned I was going to my grandparents to clean my colon or some shit like that? Well, I'm still backed up, but let me tell you what I HAVE done…

I HAVE been roused from slumber every morning at 8 a.m. because my grandfather has to have breakfast as soon as his swollen feet hit the floor and are forced to carry his mr. potato head body. "I get headaches, Batman, if I don't eat early."

I HAVE been forced to sit next to my grandmother, at her computer desk, and listen to the backstory of how she knows all 188  of her Facebook friends. "This is Billy. We went to high school together. He sat three rows behind me in math class. He has a crippled daughter."

I HAVE seeked revenge for the early bird specials by having my grandfather endure the infuriating task of teaching me how to drive stick shift. "What's that burnt celery smell?"

I HAVE traveled to look at a headstone with a mack truck etched into it. "This is what we do for fun around here, kid. Check out intricate headstones."

I HAVE napped in the middle of the afternoon. What? They keep waking me the hell up at 8 a.m. Stop judging me.