From the book of Jesse James
Only the Brange can get away with this kind of PDA. And even if we disagree on everything, I think we can all agree that Kelsey Grammer is not Brad Pitt. But here he is the other day in New York, strolling down the street like it’s a photo shoot, with his brand new 29 year old fiancée Kayte White, like puppy love looks good on a 55 year old embroiled in a public bitter divorce battle.
Camille Grammer may very well be a goddamn bitch, but that’s still not an excuse for the low classy pap walk. For Christ’s sake, the man has children. Imagine this was your dad? How mortified would you be?
Let’s compare mortification experiences, shall we? Because our parents, they embarrass us all the time. Especially mine.
Your parents are weird? My parents own weird. My parents are f-cking nuts. (DAD: PLEASE DON’T READ THE REST OF THIS. And if you do, please don’t be mad.)
One day last year, they came to pick me up at a friend’s place. Gab lives in a nice older neighbourhood where there is still space between houses, like a narrow lane you can walk through to get to the backyard. My ma had just had her fistula removed. She had a very large, very raw scar running the entire length of her left forearm. This is an important detail for later.
I don’t know what it is about parents, particularly immigrant ones, and I’ve had this conversation with so many of my friends with immigrant parents, but they hate to impose. Like, they’ll do anything not to impose. Also my parents can be really awkward around new people. And they’re chronically early. So I was not surprised when I looked out the window with 10 minutes to go before the arranged pick up time to see their car parked outside the house. Gab and I walked outside to greet them, my mother was standing on the curb by herself.
He had to pee.
Oh, between those two houses down there.
She’s saying this like it ain’t no thing. Like it’s totally normally for two grown people NOT to use the facilities INSIDE MY FRIEND’s HOUSE and take a leak in an alley instead.
Gab is standing there, wondering how she’s going to explain it to her neighbours why a little Chinese man associated with her is pissing beside their house. At this point I feel like I can’t breathe and want to die immediately. So, in a panic, in order to try and alleviate some of the discomfort, like a f-cking idiot, I grab my mother’s arm and point to her scar like it’s show and tell.
Look Gab! My ma had her fistula sealed!
So Gab is now thinking about my dad urinating on her block while looking at the nastiest, most hideous scar she’d ever seen in her life.
Just when you think it couldn’t get worse…
My father comes bounding down the street and, knowing that we all know he’d just been whizzing around the corner, offers his hand out to Gab to shake it in greeting, after having just relieved himself.
She is loving every minute. Only because she can’t wait to tell this story to everyone and anyone at work the next day, and lord it over me FOREVER. Also, she loves weird crazy people so, naturally, my parents are her favourite parents ever, of all time.
My parents meanwhile have no idea of the social disaster that just went down. When I started yelling and whining at them like a 12 year old in the car after we’d pulled away, they had no idea why I was so embarrassed.
“Daddy had to pee. You never have to pee? What you want daddy to do? Hold pee for one hour? Daddy can’t pee in Mercedes. This is a nice car.”
I challenge you to tell me a more embarrassing parent story than that one.
I’ll take my alley-pissing dad over Kelsey Grammer with his child bride and his tongue in her mouth every single day. Because, at the very least, it’s material. And one day, I can write a book about it.
Kelsey’s kids? Now they have to worry about not having an inheritance, and being raised by this twatty shameless piece of sh-t.
So a little pee against a neighbour’s house doesn’t seem so bad.
Photos from Splashnewsonline.com