And you thought your parents were weird...

Ok, I am NEVER going to complain about my parents interfering in my life again.
Well, that's probably not true but I wont feel quite as justified after talking to a friend of mine who's parents took this intrusion to a disturbing new height.

My friend in question is gay. And Albanian. Not an easy combination to get away with. His parents decided to 'cure' him in the most bizarre way I have ever come across.

They called a witch doctor. Yes, a WITCH DOCTOR. This guy got my friend naked and smeared him with chicken blood while chanting some dodgey incantation.

I have several problems with this particular technique.

Firstly, I would have thought getting him naked with another guy who intended to manhandle his privates would have been low on the list of things to try to turn him off men. Although, since the guy replaced your typical baby oil with chicken blood, maybe they were hoping to sufficiently creep him out so he could never be naked around guys again.

Secondly the chicken blood bit. I mean, why did that chicken have to die? Apparently his parents hid it in the garage to kill when Doc came round. I would like to think I would notice a live chicken residing in my house but this particular friend can be a little self absorbed. I would however be fascinated to know how chicken blood ties in with curing homosexual tendencies. We decided if he ever came home to find an elephant in the back yard, it was time to run and run fast.

Thirdly, it cost them $500! Surely this money could have been better spent! I mean, how much can a live chicken and some chanting cost? I wouldn't have thought a big knife and a book of 'Satan begone' babbles would constitute such huge overheads. The Doc musn't have been watching the right late night infomercials. Surely he could have gotten the knife for free with his Tome of tongues. But wait, there's more... Order now to receive your very own dustbuster, guaranteed to remove feathers from a variety of household upholstery.

The doctor proclaimed my friend 'cured' to his parents and said he would be sure to give them grandchildren in the future. My friend said to them 'I think you better ask for a refund coz I am so still gay'.

I thought it was bad when my mum cleaned my room when I was out. Fortunately she never saw the need to have some charlatan massage me with animal blood to mend my messy ways.

Personally I am proud of my friends 'well, I may as well laugh at it, otherwise I would go insane' outlook. Apparently he can't go to KFC without one of his friends waving a piece of poultry and singing 'Ha-la la. Ha -la-la' at him anymore. Really, what else are friends for?