Archive for February, 2010


My Brother’s Back Hair Is So Long He Could Donate It For Wigs

February 20, 2010

My brother eats lucky charms. Not the cereal. Real lucky charms that he steals from little kids.

My brother spends his Saturdays with a fork wandering the highways searching for fresh roadkill.

My brother saves his finger and toenail clippings in a coffee can for a secret project he won’t tell us about. Occasionally he lifts the lid for a lingering whiff. I’m wondering if there really is a “secret project”.

My brother owns every record you’ve seem advertised on TV. His favorite is Zamfir, Master of the Pan Flute.

My brother goes to Walmart and pokes babies when the parents aren’t looking. Now you know why your kids mysteriously freak out at Walmart.

My BFF and I once super glued my brother’s toothbrush to the bottom of the bathroom drawer and he didn’t notice for three days.  This one’s true.

Who needs a jersey when you can just shave your name on your back?

Updated by Mayo:

Oh, truthy, ay? K.

Apryl ate a roach once. I think it was just a leg.  I ate poop when I was 2.  My wonderful sister watched the whole thing happen rather than try to save her little brother from ecoli poisoning.  Nice. (That was going to be her ace in the hole. Boo ya! I stole that one from her.)

One of these days I’m going to pay someone to chase her so I can get a shot of her running.  Now that’s some shit you have to see.

My sister has more back hair than I do, and it’s all braided.  It kind of looks like Predator lives in her shirt.

I’ll be back with a photo.  Food calls.





My Sister Likes To Smell Sweaty Feet

February 20, 2010

That’s really not true. But I need to strike back and I’ve been busy.  Rather than tell a long story, I’m just going to say some mean stuff.

She licks the remaining contents out of cans of everything.

She once killed a man, not to watch him die, but to make his children watch him die.  Then she ate his children.

She loves the smell of farts.  She follows people around just waiting for it. It’s disturbing.

She’ll eat anything off of the floor, even if it isn’t food.

Okay, Apryl: You go next. I’ve got work to do. This helped, though.  Just update this post and let me have it, wussy face.


My Brother Was A Lesbian Once

February 16, 2010

In order for this post to make any sense at all, go here.  First off, I don’t want to see anyone’s kids get hurt. That video is fucking hilarious, though. Even my kids thought so. Well, the boy wasn’t too impressed, but the girl loved it. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Now since I’ve become a mom, I’m a little less entertained by kids getting kicked in the head. I think it has something to do with being able to project your kid into that scenario and getting all nervous that the other parents are judging you for letting your kid wander out into the middle of an acrobatic performance. Or is it just that I’m feeling like beating the living daylights out of that acrobat for kicking my kid in the head? (Bitch needs to watch out where she does her cartwheeling. This is a children’s birthday party!)  Either way, I’ve grown older than that girl in high school who watched that video several times EVERY DAY for about two months.  Am I less mean now? Probably not. I’m just a different kind of mean. The kind of mean that doesn’t mind telling you about the funny as hell shit my brother did when he was little. Like the time he ate poop. That was really funny. I’ll have to tell you about it sometime.

It’s a little known truth my brother dabbled in the lesbian lifestyle when he was three.   He carried my purse around…in the crook of his arm like he was a little old lady about to go shopping. It was a two-handled wicker job with a raffia elephant stitched on it that my Grandma brought me back from some tropical vacation. Clay will tell you the elephant made it masculine.   I say you could have bloody skulls stitched on it and it would still be a two-handled purse. 

He wasn't fooling anyone dressed up as a pirate, either.

Around the same time , he commandeered one of my larger baby dolls and would dance with her to my mom’s John Denver records in the sunken living room. (Remember sunken living rooms? They were like regular living rooms only about three steps lower than the rest of the house. I always wanted to fill ours with water and turn it into a swimming pool, but Mom wouldn’t let me. What’s the point of a sunken living room if you can’t fill it with water? Stupid 70’s.) Anyway, the doll’s name was Sha Sha. He LOVED Sha Sha and kissed her all of the time.

I don’t know what my mom must have been thinking at the time. The purse, the dolls, the show tunes…. I FORGOT TO MENTION THE SHOW TUNES! I’ll save that for later, too.


It’s On The Way–with pictures

February 10, 2010

I swear. I’m going to kill him.