Andy, My Smart (Ass) Brother

This is me and my brother, Andy. He is sporting his longer hairstyle and his metrosexual tattoo armband. He is only two years younger than me (so 24-ish....) but will always be my baby brother. Andy and his awesome fiance, Keisha, are getting married in May. Keisha makes Andy really easy to be around, as douche-bag as that sounds. Not like he was a jack-off by himself, she is simply the yin to his yang. She evens him out...Jesus, I make it sound like my brother is a project in God damn woodshop... Andy is a great guy, there is no one I would rather make piss their pants over one of my stories than him. Praise be God, Moses, Allah, and Shamma-Lamma-Ding-Dong on High for sending Keisha into his life. She ROCKS. She is funny, laid back, beautiful, and puts up with all the idiosyncratic bullshit drama my family can dish out--and we can dish out more servings of this than All-U-Can Eat Chicken Fried Steak Day at Old Country Buffet.

I will briefly recap a prior significant dating experience of Andy's. This is purely from my point of view so only the cunt I am discussing should be offended. Valerie was a girl with what I call an "unfortunate figure". You know the type, normal arms, average stomach, then WUH-DUNK-A-DUNK--there is her ASS! Holy shit, this bitch had more than junk in her trunk . I seriously think she probably had to sew two pairs of jeans together to fit her rotundo booty into them. But that's not the kicker, she was a raging BEEEE-OTCH. She loved to argue and made points of telling people rude shit just 'cause she got off on making others uncomfortable. I made her some super-cute lavender notecards for Christmas AND a matching candle (remember, I am one crafty beaver...). It was such a damn cute set I didn't really want to give it to the two-bit whorebag. So after the holidays she had the balls to tell Andy, "Please let Molly know that I'm just not really a purple sort of girl, for future reference." ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????!!! Did I paint your bedroom purple? Did I accidentally dye your huge, pube-like afro purple? Did I rent out Barney to do a strip-tease down to his purple furry G-string for your "I'm A Big Fat Cunt" Coming Out party? No, I GAVE you, as in a PRESENT, a handmade set of notecards..She had a fucked up life but that's no excuse to be a bitter, ugly (okay, she probably couldn't help THAT), petty, big-assed twat. So all I can reiterate is thank you, Keisha, for being Andy's savior.

Andy is a really, really smart boy. The kid has been into his edu-ma-cation for a long-ass time. You have to give props for that but I myself am overjoyed to never have to enter another classroom, sweating with fear of forgetting all that I just learned in an all-night cram session, #2 pencil clutched in hand. He went to Carnegie Mellon University (you have to be bordering freak genius to go here) for undergrad. I, on the other hand, attended Michigan State University. I wanted to go here because I ONLY had to take the ACT. I couldn't even spell SAT so I opted out of taking that bitch of a test. Then Andy wanted even more school so what the hell, let's get a master's degree from Loyola!! Damn, I am SO bored I needs ta' learn!!!! Let's go for a PhD from UIC, too!!!..and that is where our young lad currently spends much of his time, in between pounding the porpoise and torturing hairy rats. Now the subject matter Andy studies is well-beyond the realm of what my tiny, alcohol-damaged brain can grasp. I know it has to do with neuro-biological sciences but that's where my comprehension ceases to exist. I was handed a copy of one of his published papers a couple of years ago. After getting an immediate migraine from reading the title, I had a mini anneurism and had to lay down. Sorry, dude, keep it under three syllables of I'll give you my "I-look-like-I'm-listening-but-have-checked-out-faster-than-Lindsey-Lohan-at-Promises" look.
My brother and I share many fucked up memories. Let's just say we were around when raves were the shit. (I'd like to extend a thank you to Walgreens for providing such a wonderful array of platinum hair dye for the two of us. In the early 90's the two of us looked like the love-children of Gwen Stefani and a Q-tip.) I introduced Andy to alcohol and techno music. Without me, Andy would still be lugging his enormous backpack around with every textbook he owned just in case he had to study aquatic existentialist chiropractic philosophy...or whatever the fuck he reads about. Andy has a dirty laugh that I love to hear. When I can make him laugh his ass off to the point of drooling when I know he's walking in public or on the El, I have done my job. People might think he's a "special boy" when they see him because, now that he's got his Blue Tooth dick in the ear headpiece, there will be no explanation for his "Hyeh! Hyeh! Hyeh!" noises, gyrating back and forth like he's going to piss himself, flatulating, stumbling drunk-walking, crotch-grabbing actions. He's not retarded, he's just my brother.