I am a first generation Polish-American. I have eighteen drunken unkLez with Russian tractors
who don't fuckin know where they are half the time. This is because they sleep. Also, I have
some aunts and other relatives. Oh yeah, then there is also my mother, father, my sister, and my
pimply faced shit of a brother. All together, these people make up my family. What is most
important about the family, however, is how they relate with each other: what each person's role
is in the greater whole.
As you may already know, the Polish sense of family is strong. Polish families tend to be
extended, including parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. In some cases, the entire
clan may live together in a house, or as neighbors: a once common arrangement with farming
families, but no longer the norm. In other cases the family remains in close contact despite
geographical distance. The distance may be only the few kilometers from one town to another. It
may also be, however, that the family stays strong even though an ocean tries to drag them apart.
Distance is irrelevant: in all cases the Old World saying, "Family is everything," is true.
One reason family has become the center of Polish life is the fifty year Communist Regime. Under
Communism, it was often necessary to be "creative" in order to achieve one's objective. It was
nearly impossible to survive on one's own. For example there had to be some one at home to manage
family matters, another person at the butchery to wait for the meat ration, a third to wait in
line for permits, and a fourth to bribe the officials for the other three. Also, at least
seventeen family members who actually were officials: so that when sixteen were "corrected," it
would still be possible to get some decent vodka.
As I mentioned earlier, aunts and uncles, cousins and nephews are each important members of a
Polish Family. Since there are many important and respected members of a family, it can be hard
to keep track of everyone at times. Getting to know each relative does not just magically happen;
people need to get together, eat, drink, and talk, to get to know each other. These things are
part of being a family. You can see this is true, because in each culture, there is a ceremony
where all the family members gather together and renew their bonds. In Amerika, this ceremony is
called "Thanksgiving." In this holiday, people eat dead birds and sour boiled berries. Then
they go watch Monday Night Football. Through these rituals, American family members bond with
each other and renew their ties as one caring family. The Polish ceremony has much more Old World
elegance, of course. To stay close with their families, Polaks join together once every year in a
family gathering, at which they consume pierogis and drink large quantities of vodka. The
resulting relaxation of the individual family members allows closer family "ties" to occur. This
benefits every member, and allows the family to grow even larger and closer than before.
Another obvious benefit of the Polish family structure is security. As a family member, you can
be certain that no matter what happens, your family will be behind you. If you find yourself in
any kind of trouble, whether it is a personal tragedy, a financial pinch, or a bad crack habit,
your family will be there to help you. You got caught driving with out insurance? Your family
will help you. You took some bad acid and tried to shoot the president? Your family will help
you. You visited Satan at his throne, took the mark of the beast, and caused the world to end in
a blaze of hell-fire and destruction? Not to worry, your family will be there to help you. No
matter what hardship may come, a true Polish family gets you through the storm.
However, the Polish family also carries with it a great responsibility, as well as benefit.
Because you are expected to know and care about at least three hundred other people on a personal
level, it is very hard to concentrate on day to day matters. If one is constantly worrying about
the welfare of Tadeusz in Gdansk or Gabriel in Kurwamac, it becomes a difficult thing even to
screw in a light bulb. (After some research, though, a horny Polak figured out how it could be
done.)
My family is a Polish family, in the sense I have described: a tight-knit, extended family where
the members keep in touch, get together, and watch out for each other. So now, I will list all
the members of my family. All four of my grandparents are alive and well in Poland, where I visit
them as often as I can. They seem to be very happy, for some reason, although half of them are
blind, half of them don't remember who they are any more, and none of them can come close to
getting it up. Also living in Poland are my four uncles and three aunts, who I also visit every
time I happen to be in town. Their children (a.k.a., my cousins) are all inbred little shits, so
I kick them in the nads if they dare to come out from their hiding spots when I am around.
Although we live on separate continents, my relatives and I keep in close touch. In particular,
the wisdom given to me by my Uncle Stasiek, concerning dawgs, bitchez and mathafakaz, as well as
hoorz and booze, often help to guide me down life's complicated road. When I am not in Poland
visiting them, I keep busy by writing letters to them daily. This helps me keep in touch with
them, and is a way for me to find out the latest news from the fatherland.
In the U.S., I have two more aunts and an uncle. However, they are family embarrassments so I
will not mention them in this paper any further. Also on this side of the pond are my parents,
Romauld and Regina, and my siblings Vot-Chek and Joanna. I don't really comprehend exactly how I
am related to them; their strange appearance and behavior make it seem logically impossible that
the same blood courses through our veins. However, I comfort myself with the belief that God is
all-powerful, and works in mysterious ways. Of course, since they are members of my family, we
are very close. I make a point of having lunch with Joanna at least once every few years, since
after a while her whiny bitching about it starts to pist me off. During lunch we talk about such
important family matters as: "Wow the weather is nice today", "What is that shit you bought back
there? Chicken? Gottdamn," and "Boy, wouldn't it be nice if we got together more often?" Also,
I stay close to Vot-Chek. I do this by whopping his little fagotty ass every time he starts
fucking around with the shit in my drawers and laughing like a little faggot. My parents and I,
as one would expect in any self-respecting Polish family, stay tight. I tell my mom and dad
everything about my life, and they do the same for me. This is because we love each other forever
and forever. Also because Papa poke me in da puuuper. "Don't worry Marius, it won't hurt too
much, ahahahah"
Now for Turek. This little faggicci has the fuked up family in the world. His maammy has a Jag
fakin 8 times faster than his sluttly little opair in her little slutty pussied up juzzum kunt
with her little panties there i tear off here tight little skirt with my teeth, and his two little
devirginized slut-face hoorz sister i rrrape both of them u little JEW. Then his bald head dad
fakin with the "i can nott find a fakin job" shit face fakin pimple face hoor FAK U U SLIMY PUXXY
HOOR JEW JEW JEW JEW NAZXI BACHT FUH
2 finiszh this puupa of a paper: Live in Poland suxed, u couldn't even pay a girl for her body.
America is great! The world's inventor of crack-cocaine, telephones and porn movies it stands
alone as the supreme concentration of creativity. The end. PS. I hope I can visit poland soon,
I luv u polakz u r my nation. I always buy polish cheezes here and polish sausagez, they r all
that I'm made uv, besides I like thier shape. Polish sausage feedz ALL my hungaz!
who don't fuckin know where they are half the time. This is because they sleep. Also, I have
some aunts and other relatives. Oh yeah, then there is also my mother, father, my sister, and my
pimply faced shit of a brother. All together, these people make up my family. What is most
important about the family, however, is how they relate with each other: what each person's role
is in the greater whole.
As you may already know, the Polish sense of family is strong. Polish families tend to be
extended, including parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. In some cases, the entire
clan may live together in a house, or as neighbors: a once common arrangement with farming
families, but no longer the norm. In other cases the family remains in close contact despite
geographical distance. The distance may be only the few kilometers from one town to another. It
may also be, however, that the family stays strong even though an ocean tries to drag them apart.
Distance is irrelevant: in all cases the Old World saying, "Family is everything," is true.
One reason family has become the center of Polish life is the fifty year Communist Regime. Under
Communism, it was often necessary to be "creative" in order to achieve one's objective. It was
nearly impossible to survive on one's own. For example there had to be some one at home to manage
family matters, another person at the butchery to wait for the meat ration, a third to wait in
line for permits, and a fourth to bribe the officials for the other three. Also, at least
seventeen family members who actually were officials: so that when sixteen were "corrected," it
would still be possible to get some decent vodka.
As I mentioned earlier, aunts and uncles, cousins and nephews are each important members of a
Polish Family. Since there are many important and respected members of a family, it can be hard
to keep track of everyone at times. Getting to know each relative does not just magically happen;
people need to get together, eat, drink, and talk, to get to know each other. These things are
part of being a family. You can see this is true, because in each culture, there is a ceremony
where all the family members gather together and renew their bonds. In Amerika, this ceremony is
called "Thanksgiving." In this holiday, people eat dead birds and sour boiled berries. Then
they go watch Monday Night Football. Through these rituals, American family members bond with
each other and renew their ties as one caring family. The Polish ceremony has much more Old World
elegance, of course. To stay close with their families, Polaks join together once every year in a
family gathering, at which they consume pierogis and drink large quantities of vodka. The
resulting relaxation of the individual family members allows closer family "ties" to occur. This
benefits every member, and allows the family to grow even larger and closer than before.
Another obvious benefit of the Polish family structure is security. As a family member, you can
be certain that no matter what happens, your family will be behind you. If you find yourself in
any kind of trouble, whether it is a personal tragedy, a financial pinch, or a bad crack habit,
your family will be there to help you. You got caught driving with out insurance? Your family
will help you. You took some bad acid and tried to shoot the president? Your family will help
you. You visited Satan at his throne, took the mark of the beast, and caused the world to end in
a blaze of hell-fire and destruction? Not to worry, your family will be there to help you. No
matter what hardship may come, a true Polish family gets you through the storm.
However, the Polish family also carries with it a great responsibility, as well as benefit.
Because you are expected to know and care about at least three hundred other people on a personal
level, it is very hard to concentrate on day to day matters. If one is constantly worrying about
the welfare of Tadeusz in Gdansk or Gabriel in Kurwamac, it becomes a difficult thing even to
screw in a light bulb. (After some research, though, a horny Polak figured out how it could be
done.)
My family is a Polish family, in the sense I have described: a tight-knit, extended family where
the members keep in touch, get together, and watch out for each other. So now, I will list all
the members of my family. All four of my grandparents are alive and well in Poland, where I visit
them as often as I can. They seem to be very happy, for some reason, although half of them are
blind, half of them don't remember who they are any more, and none of them can come close to
getting it up. Also living in Poland are my four uncles and three aunts, who I also visit every
time I happen to be in town. Their children (a.k.a., my cousins) are all inbred little shits, so
I kick them in the nads if they dare to come out from their hiding spots when I am around.
Although we live on separate continents, my relatives and I keep in close touch. In particular,
the wisdom given to me by my Uncle Stasiek, concerning dawgs, bitchez and mathafakaz, as well as
hoorz and booze, often help to guide me down life's complicated road. When I am not in Poland
visiting them, I keep busy by writing letters to them daily. This helps me keep in touch with
them, and is a way for me to find out the latest news from the fatherland.
In the U.S., I have two more aunts and an uncle. However, they are family embarrassments so I
will not mention them in this paper any further. Also on this side of the pond are my parents,
Romauld and Regina, and my siblings Vot-Chek and Joanna. I don't really comprehend exactly how I
am related to them; their strange appearance and behavior make it seem logically impossible that
the same blood courses through our veins. However, I comfort myself with the belief that God is
all-powerful, and works in mysterious ways. Of course, since they are members of my family, we
are very close. I make a point of having lunch with Joanna at least once every few years, since
after a while her whiny bitching about it starts to pist me off. During lunch we talk about such
important family matters as: "Wow the weather is nice today", "What is that shit you bought back
there? Chicken? Gottdamn," and "Boy, wouldn't it be nice if we got together more often?" Also,
I stay close to Vot-Chek. I do this by whopping his little fagotty ass every time he starts
fucking around with the shit in my drawers and laughing like a little faggot. My parents and I,
as one would expect in any self-respecting Polish family, stay tight. I tell my mom and dad
everything about my life, and they do the same for me. This is because we love each other forever
and forever. Also because Papa poke me in da puuuper. "Don't worry Marius, it won't hurt too
much, ahahahah"
Now for Turek. This little faggicci has the fuked up family in the world. His maammy has a Jag
fakin 8 times faster than his sluttly little opair in her little slutty pussied up juzzum kunt
with her little panties there i tear off here tight little skirt with my teeth, and his two little
devirginized slut-face hoorz sister i rrrape both of them u little JEW. Then his bald head dad
fakin with the "i can nott find a fakin job" shit face fakin pimple face hoor FAK U U SLIMY PUXXY
HOOR JEW JEW JEW JEW NAZXI BACHT FUH
2 finiszh this puupa of a paper: Live in Poland suxed, u couldn't even pay a girl for her body.
America is great! The world's inventor of crack-cocaine, telephones and porn movies it stands
alone as the supreme concentration of creativity. The end. PS. I hope I can visit poland soon,
I luv u polakz u r my nation. I always buy polish cheezes here and polish sausagez, they r all
that I'm made uv, besides I like thier shape. Polish sausage feedz ALL my hungaz!