How Do You Love Your Brother?

I love my brother Don.

I love my brother Don so much,
I live inside my brother Don.

I let him know I love him by constantly telling him,
“I am kneading your pancreas with my balled up fists,”
as I knead his pancreas with my balled up fists.

I run a garden hose of cold water over his insides each day
so his insides don’t get sticky. Then, I clean his insides
with a wire brush, and rinse him again.

I make sure that the inside of Don is painstakingly coated
with glitter on a daily basis and that there are always
little Texas-sized Texas cowboy boots on all of the hooks.
This is just how we like things!

When we are near electrical plugs or outlets,
I warn him of their danger:
“It’s electricity, Don!
It’s electricity, Don!
Don! Don! Don! Don! Don! Don! Don!
It’s electricity! It’s electricity!…”

When there is something that attacks
Don’s tissue and organs,
there’s this white stuff I use that always works,
and, if that doesn’t work, there’s always andouille sausage
and deep fried rice balls.

When he is out on a date
and our filial love is threatened,
I force white craft glue out his nostrils
and repeatedly stab his testicles
with our ceremonial Dagger of Filial Betrayal
until he utters aloud our agreed upon phrase –
“That’s OK. Sometimes when I’m really happy
super-concentrated boner juice comes out of my nose.
It’s part of what makes me, me, I guess.”

When Don asks me “what should we do?”
I am always ready to provide an answer
even if the answer is always “let’s go square dancing again!”

When Don closes his eyes to sleep,
I remind him of our precarious situation
“Constant Vigilance, Don! Constant Vigilance!”

On mascot day, I poke my head out of Don’s mouth
and stay there most of the day, even though our mascot
is a Crusader.

When Don throws the black, yellow and red pieces
of tissue paper in the air and watches them rain down,
I tell Don, “Don’t be fooled, Don. That paper is not rain!”
and shake a clear glass ornament
filled with little white flakes and say,
“Here, Don. This is rain right here.
Pretty, ain’t it?”

I am building a $580 million stadium inside of Don in which
we will hold the inaugural “Sad Bowl”

Some day I will stab Don with a large knife from the inside saying,
“Brother, I just love you to death!”

Previous Post
Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: