STEPH DOES BLOGGER

My mouse has gone retarded and I'm too lazy to buy a new one so I just slam it against my desk and scream horrifying curse words at it. I personally think that's a great problem solving technique.

Someone sent flowers to my office today. No idea who it was. They didn't leave a card. I hate flowers.

My brother is coming to see me this weekend. For those who read my old blog, you know about my brother. For you newbies I'll give you the abridged version...

My brother is a few years older than me. We've always been incredibly close, but we are polar opposites. He's shy, quiet. mellow. He's the good boy who always says and does the right thing. You would think he shit rainbows that tasted like chocolate chip cookies.

I, of course, am nothing like that and happily so. I shit bile and it smells like aborted babies and homeless people.

My brother married young and his wife was definitely a foot soldier of Satan. This woman was a cunt. She treated my brother like shit and was a horrible human being. I normally enjoy mean-spirited people but she took bad attitude to a new and alarming level.

She and I never got along and it caused a lot of friction between my brother and I.

Then he FINALLY let his balls drop and divorced the beast.

He never sowed his wild oats, to use a ridiculous cliche, so a few months after his split I encouraged him to enjoy his new found freedom. I believe my exact words were "Go get your some clean, young pussy!"

My brother not only took my advice and ran with it, but he flipped it over, stripped it down, oiled it up and fucked it raw. He's been banging anything within grabbing range. To see my mild mannered brother go from Clark Kent to some vagina hungry fuck beast is hysterical, and disturbing, to me.

When I moved I only moved a few hours from him. So every other month or so one of us makes a weekend trip over to see the other. We drink, we party, we play cards, I try to keep him from humping my friends. Good times. I have my brother back and life is good.