Somewhere.....There is indeed a villiage missing it's idiot. This Villiage has been Idiot-less for 18 long years now. I really wish they'd send an ambassador or something to get him....because honestly, I've had enough.
You see, my brother has never been the sharpest knife in the drawer. This is the kid that used to stand virtually naked in the windows of the house, run from a room screaming "I've gotta go potty!" no matter WHO was present, and, if a bathroom was not in close enough range, would drop trou and take a leak in front of God and anyone else (and he wouldn't even look for a friendly bush either, if he was in the middle of the driveway, then by God, everyone on Merrick Road got a free show).
Yes, my brother the little exhibitionist. Well....some things have changed in the past few years....he's no longer the exhibitionist---God forbid you even see his boxers. And forget anyone else in the house being naked....somebody changing a shirt in the house is enough to make my brother go temporarily blind.
I told you he isn't real smart.
He's also not real mature. He's grossed out by bra's, my Mother's underwear, the very mention of feminine hygeine products and sex. And you know what? With ammunition like that, my mother and I go hog wild to drive the little shit absolutely insane.
We'll start with a few years ago. Mom asked Matt to transfer a load of laundry and it just happened to contain her bra's, my bra's and some various other pieces of underwear...if it's white or close to it, it's gettin' washed with the bra's! So anyway, Matt opens up the washer and takes out a few articles to throw in the dryer when he realizes that the load contains bras and girly underwear. He flips out and tells me to transfer the laundry because "That's just nasty." He returns to the cave known as the computer room and stares blankly at a strategy game. Mom and I move in for the kill....after the bra's are taken from the dryer we bring them covertly into the computer room and drape them over the back of the desk chair, where he is completely oblivious to the world around him. The words "Hey Matt!" are just enough to make him turn in the seat and realize what's there. I've never seen someone squish into a wall like that...except maybe someone who has been faced with a large and thoroughly deadly snake...like a cobra.
And that's only the beginning....
Matt refuses to go anywhere near feminine hygeine products. If we ask him to carry the grocery bag that just happens to have a box of tampons in it, he flips out. If we ask him to carry the box of pads up to the bathroom...he flips. More ammunition.....one evening we actually waited for him to go to sleep and then put the box of pads outside his door. Since we shop at Sam's it's a sizeable box. We wait until morning. Matt opens his door and does this funky assed Matrix move where his upper body crossed the thresh-hold and his lower body did this weird reverse thing and somehow ended up crawling up the ceiling. Awesome....Dad had to hold Mom and I back from putting the pads IN his bed.....we were just going to lay them out one by one and sort of mosaic his bed with tiny pink packages....Dad thought enough was enough....but even four years later, Matt's still weirded out and will only carry the "icky stuff" into the house with his hands covered in plastic trashbags.
But wait---there's more!
Apparently my brother is set off by the very mention of sex. Especially the idea of my parents having sex. Apparently Dr. Phil had a couple on who were older and still enjoyed a healthy sex life. Matt made the comment (in front of my mother) that he was glad my parents don't have sex. Mom's pretty quick on her feet and just sort of casually said..."Well, you know those nights when you wake up, and our (her and Dad's) door is closed? Well...." Apparently my brother levitated, stuck his fingers in his ears, curled into the fetal position and started reciting ancient biblical verses in Babylonion. For the next three days my mom used this stream of thought to torture my brother with such glorious bombs as, while eating dinner. "Hey, let's close our door tonight, eh?", or "Hey Matt, would you mind shutting our door before you go to bed?" Freaked my bro out huge.
And apparently he has trigger words. She can gross him out all the way from our house to the mall (roughly a 30+ minute drive if the lights are weird). Here are just a few.
Masturbation
Period
Pads
Tampons
Menapause
Hot Flashes
Bra
Bra Shopping
Boobs
Thongs
Underwear
Sex
Dildo
Condom
Closed Doors
Yes, all these words will either temporarily blind, deafen or let loose a shriek...for 30 minutes straight.
Here's another place where my brother proves his lack of intelligence.
He can't fathom why I got a new (used) car before I went to school and he's not. Why I got a checking account, and he's not. Why I got to go on a Senior trip and he doesn't. Or why I get more money/month and he doesn't.
Now, l will tell you right now, I go to school 1200 miles away from home. The 13 year old Geo Metro was not intended to make the road trip much less cart my crap twice a year for the next four years. He's going to school 4 hours away. Dad is going to bring up most of his crap....he has no real need of a new car except that a Geo Metro is hardly a babe magnet. Now, distance is also the reason I get more money....I go to school farther away and therefore have greater expenses. I also go to a cheap school. One year at EKU is barely a semester at the Colorado School of Mines....the logical explanation being I get more money because I go to a cheaper school...the money that would be going to tuition, I get to spend. He's not getting a checking account because one, that's a scary thought and two, his school has it set up so that he can take his ID card and use his 'flex' dollars all over town, at places like Wal-mart, the grocery store, and various fast food establishments. I really wish Richmond would do that so I could get rid of my flex cash easier....I HATE balancing my check book. He's also not getting a senior trip because he fucked up. Bringing home 2 D's on your last report card is a sure fire way to NOT go anywhere cool after graduation.
So you see....my brother is going to use this summer as a means to bitch, gripe, whine and complain. What's he got to bitch about? I'm the one 1200 miles away from a real live social life, freedom and HIGH SPEED DSL INTERNET! I'm the one that has to look forward to driving 23 more hours to get back to school....I'm the one that has to deal with all my friends here having decent jobs already and staying in their college towns....
Why did I come home again? Someone please tell me?"
