From Perversion to Conversion

By Ty Oliver

I've always been scolded for my transparency but I'm coming out full blast! No more need for allegations or speculations pertaining to my past. All my deepest, darkest secrets are herein unmasked. The dysfunction, perversion, and incest of my yesteryear, revisited to bring you clarity but no longer reside here my dears

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781387591398

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From Perversion to Conversion

From Perversion to Conversion

From Perversion to Conversion

Ty Oliver

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of Anointed Ink Publishing except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Copyright © 2018 by Anointed Ink Literary Agency, Highland, NY 12528.

Copyright 2018,

Anointed Ink Publishing

PO Box 1424

Highland, NY 12528

ISBN-13: 978-1-387-59139-8

Printed in USA

This book is dedication to Elizabeth Bit Brown Oliver

THE DYSFUNCTIONAL S

BIG MAMA'S GENERATIONS OF DRAMA

Have you ever been introduced to crazy? Brushed elbows with clueless, shiftless and downright lazy? Normally I would advise you to take such a burden to God but not if my Grandma's at the front of the church. Dancing out of her pantyhose or until her wig hits the sod! When the mere thought of your kin creates an unquenchable thirst for Gin, the time has come to stop announcing, I don't have a problem. Especially when there is irrefutable proof that you were birthed by Gomorrah and raised up with Sodom. How could this catalog of incompetence have been laid at my feet? I would much rather have been a victim in one of the fifty-seven installments of A Nightmare on Elm Street! Yeah, my peeps should have given me the ax or the proverbial boot. They're forever doing The Max, and scheming on somebody's loot. To cram mess in a Vera Wang dress doesn't mask the smell any less.

All this shiggidy started with Big Mama (Great Grandmother) and nurtured future generations of drama. However, I must honestly say, that her Chips, Dips and Hips, held up rather well in a negligee. Papa tenderized that meat until there were ten little sets of happy feet. Yet on those nights when Papa would get the Juke Joint twitch and attempt to bail, Big Mama would play the song entitled, You Is One Black Rat...Someday I'll Find Your Trail! Papa was twenty-five years older than Big Mama when she fell for his Swag. He went from bringing Big Jim & The Twins to imposing on her with a Disabled Veteran resting on two raggedy duffel bags. (A Redd Foxx Original) A serious note regarding Papa is that he never disciplined his daughters. Unfortunately, in his early life, his sister was playing Horsey on his back, fell off and broke her neck. Papa died in 1947. Remember that Big Mama was twenty-five years younger. So, she was still vibrant with Pom-Poms in the front and Bon-Bons in the back of that impressive negligee.

You need not bribe me with a Baby Ruth. I'm going to come right out and tell the truth. I couldn't stand Big Mama when I was a kid. I wanted to slap a, FOR SALE sign on her and accept the highest bid. We didn't get along until she got up in age. By then her words that once filled me with rage had almost become sage. The more she would affectionately refer to one of the brothers in the church as a, Backsliding Heifer, or one of the sisters as a, Big Titty Sow, would enhance her adorableness someway and somehow. However, three specific character flaws within Big Mama forever led me to complain. They might very well seem insignificant to others but were my compulsion to throw Mama from the train! Judging people without all the evidence was her favorite game. One day my brother went upstairs, lied when he told her I said I hated her, but she whipped me until I forgot my own name. The second issue, for which you might have to give me a tissue, because after all these years, it still brings me to tears. Big Mama's Dog Bucket, made me scratch my head and ask, Who would have thunk it?

Big Mama could cook her dry biscuits off! Although most of it was bound for the trough. Her stinking Dog Bucket took precedence over a house full of hungry residents. Oven-baked beef and gravy as soft as butter, candied yams that would make you stutter, macaroni and cheese which could bring you to your knees, and baked rice pudding or peach cobbler for dessert. Prepared with such conviction that you'd gladly convert. Man, you'd better hurry up and stuff your gullet, because those tantalizing treats are the property of the Dog Bucket! How dare you hint you want another helping with all the stray dogs outside her door yelping.  This was no unique nor exquisite container. Nothing that would prompt you to place an attorney on retainer. A red Chitterlings bucket with a white top and to this day I almost go to jail anytime I see the slop! Would you like to hear something else absurd? Big Mama routinely took a loaf of bread outside and fed it to the birds. As you can plainly see...all of Creation ate better than me! (My third dislike is covered in an entire chapter.)

The woman birthed ten babies but was convinced that lip kissing would give her rabies. Undoubtedly, her kisses would have tasted like fresh poots since she kept a mouth full of snus. Skoal Key Chewing Tobacco