Travous Family Legacy
Hearing about a lot of other people's families and how fucked up they are this time of year with fights, incest, and truckloads of hate make me appreciate my family, extended and otherwise.
They're all great, talented, level-headed people as far as I am concerned.
Save for my nutty homeless uncle.
He's got a track record for being a world-class bastard in ways that arise somehow at every holiday dinner, despite none of us seeing him for years. It takes a certain kind of asshole to surface in conversation at every family function like that. It's quite an achievement really. Going into those details would override the kind of common sense I thought I had set aside in making a public internet blog, so you can just imagine someone who looks vaguely like me being a fuck. Last I saw him was at my grandpa Travous' funeral. He had been living off of my Grandpa for years, and had been amassing my family's ire in ways only secret to you, internet people.
Following my Grandfather's death, he packed up his dog and a laptop computer into his old car and moved to St. Augustine, Florida to become a derelict and an artist. When I say artist (and he had been doing this since he was stationed out of Illinois with my Grandpa) is run pictures other people had taken through Photoshop filters.
This status of being a bum/"artist" has gotten him in trouble with the law, as an area with high tourist traffic (oldest city in the Americas!) doesn't like guys living out of cars with giant dogs selling shitty photoshops on the sidewalk while harassing people. In doing this, he has painted a masterful portrait: one of him being a freedom fighter for the rights of artists to hawk wares of vastly ranging quality wherever the heck they want in St. Augustine.
He has a blog that closely follows his battles.
He refers to himself in the third person, by a strange amalgam of his last name, which is my middle name, and my mother's maiden name, Travous. I won't say what it is, as to try and throw off a Google search, which is likely futile by now.
So: Hey Uncle. Good luck.
I'm killing art and breaking the rules of god and man in insulting an elder member of my family by doing this, but it hasn't stopped me before. Check it out, it's pretty funny.
They're all great, talented, level-headed people as far as I am concerned.
Save for my nutty homeless uncle.
He's got a track record for being a world-class bastard in ways that arise somehow at every holiday dinner, despite none of us seeing him for years. It takes a certain kind of asshole to surface in conversation at every family function like that. It's quite an achievement really. Going into those details would override the kind of common sense I thought I had set aside in making a public internet blog, so you can just imagine someone who looks vaguely like me being a fuck. Last I saw him was at my grandpa Travous' funeral. He had been living off of my Grandpa for years, and had been amassing my family's ire in ways only secret to you, internet people.
Following my Grandfather's death, he packed up his dog and a laptop computer into his old car and moved to St. Augustine, Florida to become a derelict and an artist. When I say artist (and he had been doing this since he was stationed out of Illinois with my Grandpa) is run pictures other people had taken through Photoshop filters.
This status of being a bum/"artist" has gotten him in trouble with the law, as an area with high tourist traffic (oldest city in the Americas!) doesn't like guys living out of cars with giant dogs selling shitty photoshops on the sidewalk while harassing people. In doing this, he has painted a masterful portrait: one of him being a freedom fighter for the rights of artists to hawk wares of vastly ranging quality wherever the heck they want in St. Augustine.
He has a blog that closely follows his battles.
He refers to himself in the third person, by a strange amalgam of his last name, which is my middle name, and my mother's maiden name, Travous. I won't say what it is, as to try and throw off a Google search, which is likely futile by now.
So: Hey Uncle. Good luck.
I'm killing art and breaking the rules of god and man in insulting an elder member of my family by doing this, but it hasn't stopped me before. Check it out, it's pretty funny.
posted by A.T. Nee at
11:38 PM
2 Comments
