Archive for May, 2010

Got Brats? Threaten them!

Sunday, May 23rd, 2010

“A child is a curly dimpled lunatic.”  ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Most parents have a ridiculous threat they keep in their pocket to throw out when they want to keep their kids in line.   My mom had one which shut me up pretty quickly, because the thought of being away from my quirky family (insanity and all) made my knees knock together in terror.  Also, how the heck could I ever live without mom’s lasagna?

Her threat?   HELGA MUNSON!

The dreaded HELGA!

This is the beaut I pictured playing the role of Helga.  Mom’s actual threat was that schoolmistress Helga Munson would come to our house to collect me, and take my sorry little talking-back ass to Camp Marymount reform school!

(ITALIAN LESSON:  Threaten (speak threats) = minacciare a voce)

Of course, Helga and Camp Marymount are fictional, but this trick of mom’s worked like a charm (I think she even had my dad involved in her Marymount scam a couple times).

Word to the wise:  if you have kids, be sure think up a few reusable threats today. This way, you’ll be ready to toss one out to your brats at a moment’s notice!

 HELGA SAYS: “Get back to the home of madness now at !”

Nan will cut you three ways!

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

“Let us swear while we may, for in heaven it will not be allowed.” ~ Mark Twain

 I just found out that my ninety one year old Nan got a tad pissed off at my two cousins yesterday.  Nan cursed the hell out of them (said she’d f*cking kill them is they mess with her) and yeah, she wanted to cut them THREE ways: long, deep and repeatedly! Why? Because once you hit ninety, you have the right to get pissed off whenever you feel like it, do you need a reason?

(ITALIAN LESSON: swear/cuss/curse word = parolaccia) 

What really ticked nan off was the discovery of my cousins touching her personal piles of paper “stuff” (paperstuff, mind you, that’s been accumulating mold and mildew in old stinky cardboard boxes for at least three decades, but to my nan, this old crap is as important as it was back in the early seventies).

Granda with a gun!

Today I called my loony lovable mom to fill her in on her mom’s recent cursing and knife-wielding spree. Her reply?
“Well, I guess it’s never too late to start swearing.”  

True ma — and I’m thankful nan doesn’t have her own Italian heater!

Don’t piss off nan — head back to the  home of madness here:  

Mom, Paco and the Jackson Five

Saturday, May 1st, 2010

“Whoever said money can’t buy happiness simply didn’t know where to go shopping” ~ Bo Derek

“It’s not a gang, it’s a club”  Gilda Radnor used to say in her SNL skits about New York street gangs.  Oops, I mean clubs.  I’ve heard that phrase  over the years  from my brother Paco (well, he calls his club a Nation).    

Black 'n Gold

Paco claims he doesn’t get into much trouble, but I often see R.I.P. splashed across his myspace page when a King brother or sister falls, usually from a bullet or stabbing courtesy of a rival club, but to keep this on the lighter side, I’ll share this story about Paco, my mom and Andrew Jackson.

A few years ago, Paco stopped by mom’s house, threw five crumpled up twenties on the kitchen counter and asked, “Yo ma, can you to iron up some ‘funny money’ for me, and sh!t?” 

(ITALIAN LESSON:  Counterfeit = contraffatto)

So, there mom is ironing out the additional wrinkles in Andrew Jackson’s face, while browning the garlic for one of her perfect vats of tomato sauce.  Yup, just a typical day with the Romano’s – always something different, and mom always had a hard time saying no to her baby Paco.

Funny Twenties

Mission accomplished. Did mom keep any Jacksons? No. Paco offered up a couple as a thank you, but mom replied with “are you out of your friggin’ mind?”

Crazy indeed, head back home for more insanity