Super 8 Gets a 10 in My Book

I'm bogarting some wi-fi from a Super 8 Motel in Portsmouth, Ohio, to tell you I lurve you, and I lurve my family. (My Nan called it "wee fee." She also says "cha hua hua" for the little Mejican dogs. Anyhoo.)

My Dad was wearing orange shoes. I love that man. I guess when you're 60 and it's your birthday, you can do what ever the hell you want.

My Aunt Wendy pinched my butt no less than 52 times--we're definitely a butt-pinching family. I love Aunt Wendy. She will punch my butt until I'm 72.

My step-cousin tried to hit on me. That's kind of weird. I'll take it as a sign that the gym is working.

Um, what else? Oh, man, my nephews and niece--they could make me lift the moratorium on my ovaries. "Be evil, Aunt Beans, so I can kill you with my sword of poop," Sam said. "Aunt Beans, you can't be evil AND laugh. Geeez!")

More to come, but I'm on my way to the blooming metropolis of Canton, Ohio, to hang with some of my favorite homeslices. Keep it real, kids, and remember: I'll keep the light on for you.

In the Comments section, tell me about your favorite family member. Then call them up and tell them why you love them so much.