Tuesday, October 12
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Thank Playboy
[journal]
Our family had Thanksgiving dinner, except it was our own version of it. It wasn't dinner; it was lunch. It wasn't turkey; it was pho. It wasn't Monday; it was Sunday.
We took a trip down to our grandparents who had prepared a lot of food. I got the usual "Joe you must eat more." I did my usual nod of obedience in agreement. Then the family started eating together.
Somehow, three generations of family from as young as 23 to as old as 80, started talking about pornography. I know my family isn't your typical family, but even I found it troubling how freely my family could talk about porno. My mom brought up how she had to throw Mike's disgusting stockpile of filth away. He was so proud that she needed to fill an entire black garbage bag to hold all his porno boxes.
My parents reminisced how when Mike was in grade three, they were called down to the principal's office because Mike had been caught with a stack of playboys, I'm not talking about 1 or 2, but dozens. Apparently he had found a ton in an abandoned shed and he was also soliciting the other kids in the class (remember, it's grade three) to find and take their parents playboy magazines and give them to him. He was masterminding some sort of pornographic organization. I asked my parents if they were proud. They didn't answer me.
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