The other day, my brother chastised me for singing Cowboy songs as I did the dishes. "I never sing my music."
"Ohhh, but you could!" I gushed. "SING!"
So he graced me with a rendition of Del the Funkee Homosapien. I love my brother.
It was hilarious. He has this wonderful face that shows up when he's stifling a laugh.
File this under: Scott and my brother are one and the same. Charlie dearest has to read Pride and Prejudice for school, and spent most of the evening gagging. I can't believe he doesn't think it's hilarious. "Ohh, Mr. Bingley! Ohhh, Mr. Darcey!" he cooed in a high pitched fake English accent, as he wiggles his fingers and rolls his eyes. "Best book ever!" I shouted, and he started making noises like Gollum. "IT BURNS, IT BURNS!" He drank a lot of milk, too, for phlegm production, that charmer.
He used to have belching contests with himself.
My highschool English class read Wuthering Heights instead of 1984. I bet you think that explains a whole lot, too.
2003-01-08, stuff about my brother
before / after
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