Tragic, The Blathering: Uncle Fungus

A while ago, we told our son Ethan to invite a friend from school over to our house to play. The kid that he chose lives down the road in the trailer park. My wife told his mother that she didn't mind driving over to pick him up.

One thing about living in a trailer is that when you walk in the front door, you are usually right in the main living area and the entire place is about the width of one driving lane on the highway. So when my wife arrived to pick the boy up, she knocked on the door and a voice said, "Come in!" So she opened to the door and who did she see, but Uncle Fungus.

Uncle Fungus was not the one who said come in. Uncle fungus doesn't talk at all. He's just the guy who has made a lifestyle of taking up all the room on the couch, 24 hours a day. He doesn't talk, he rarely showers, he had better have a damn good reason if he's going to be troubled to go outside, and mostly he just doesn't want you to battle him for control of the television.

So my wife just picked up the boy and nothing was done to upset Uncle Fungus, like making eye contact. And that's the way he likes it. And it seems to me that I've seen quite a few Uncle Fungi in my lifetime so I figured it was worth making a trading card about him.

Uncle Fungus does not go on the offensive much. However, if he is forced to defend himself, you must first make your way through a muddle of dirty dishes, then you encounter his foghorn blast of BEEEEEEEE-OHHHHHHHHHHHH! And if the body odor doesn't get you then a dizzying mist of morning breath is sure to cloud your thinking.