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You know, that loudmouth, that blowhard that shows up at parties whether or not he's been invited and makes sure everybody knows he's a relative, gets a skinful as quickly as possible, and ends up picking fights with half the men there when he insults their wives.
He's the guy who shows up at your house and stands out on the front lawn taking your personal inventory at the top of his lungs at 7 AM when all the neighbors are sure to be disturbed enough to come out and watch. You're never quite sure how much of it they'll believe.
You can't ever really get rid of him because he IS a relative, albeit one you try to avoid whenever you can, and your spouse has thrown him out of your house repeatedly. Everybody associates him with you, because he's a relative. Everybody suspects that buried somewhere down deep, you're just like him in one way or another, all unpleasant.
I can't look at Stupid without thinking of my own experience with the drunken uncle. I know what his fate is likely to be, and it isn't pretty.
I just hope he doesn't take us down that road with him.
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