Well, as you guys know, I do nothing but work and watch tv, for as we all know, after you hit 25, it's all downhill from there. One of my favorite shows is Titus on Fox. It's about a wacky guy (played by Christopher Titus) who grew up in a dysfunctional family. His dad drank and had multiple wives; his mom was a schizophrenic. Yep, and it's on just after That 70's Show. (Kids, just know this - I was a child in the 1970s. I'm still suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder because of it.) But anyway, watching that show led me to this month's topic (well, that and desperation, but that's more...)

Families are odd entities...people who normally would have nothing to do with each other, related only by blood. Yep, when it comes to the genetic crap shoot, some of us get the short end of the stick. Some of us are lucky - I, for one, never have to worry about male pattern baldness, but alas, I will forever be stuck as a Supercuts customer. Plus, let's face it - there's really no such thing as a "functional" family - each Shrub staffer has their own particular set of neuroses, given to them by the people they love, and the unique family situations. (The only exception is the long-lost Robot from the Future, who was strung together from a Folgers coffee can, an old erector set, parts from an old Pong game, some bell wire, a 9 volt battery, and a Walkman playing a continuous loop of Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits).

What the hell am I trying to say here? Families are, at best, tolerable. By the time you read this, you'll either be planning to spend the summer with your family, or the summer avoiding your family. We are a product of our dysfunctions - let's face it, my mom's side of the family is reminiscent of The Simpsons as written by Sartre and Camus, and my dad's side is so deep in denial it's not even funny. But on the other hand, I now have the responsibility to avoid spreading the dysfunction, and to be somewhat healthy for my kids, when I have them. Of course, I can barely take care of my cat, so that may be an indicator that parenthood ain't for me. I think it's nap time.

If you have any questions, or want to encourage me in the book I'm writing, e-mail me at Gordon_D@theshrubbery.com, and I'll respond in a timely manner. Heck, maybe next month I'll even have a real column, instead of this one written in the midst of an Oreo-and-Mountain-Dew binge.