I wonder which one now

Bet you thought I forgot, right?


( Guess who? )

And if you didn't click the cut, you should. Now. Pretty!

My brother's a bitch.

It's not paranoia if someone is out to get you, yes? *muse* I wonder if Mumsy tells the princess all the bitchy things I say about him, or whether she just tells me. I'm not sure which is better, though I could understand the former better. You can only take so much before you just start ranting. If it's the latter, then I might just strangle someone.

But enough with the vague. Let's start with the least vexing and move onto the WTF moment of the day. After dropping the WTF moment [we'll circle around and pick that one up, I promise] and spending much of the day out shopping, I came downstairs quite ticked off because SOMEONE threw a bitchfit when it took more than two seconds for the computer to stop trying to connect to a frickin' phoneline. "I'm on the phone!" No shit, bitch! [The bitch would be my brother. Sorry for any confusion] Just so we're clear, I'm in a piss poor mood, kay? I resist the urge to stomp down the stairs, because I'm not thirteen and I'm all mature and whatnot, and I end up in the living room for some reason. I think I was seriously debating unplugging my phone and seeing how long it took for him to kill me, when I must have made some crack about having the boy adopted. And Mom says something along the lines of him also bitching about me, and how I never do anything around here and I damn near killed someone.

I do nothing? Nothing? Hello jobs the boy wouldn't do because he considers them too dangerous? Hello phone he's talking on that I got at work? Nyargh. So I bite my tongue in a non literal way and stomp off to do the dishes I don't particularly want to do anymore, but will do because I was going to do them before he went and pissed me off so severely the second time.

Now we circle back for the first. Sometime around noon, I was tired of waiting to go on my book expedition. Stuff to buy, you know? So I toddle downstairs and Mom says something. You'd think I'd note the opening words of such conversations so I could run screaming, but no. I just don't expect 'em. No one expects... well, you get the idea.
So she's blathering on about the boy thinking I'm weird and odd, and how that's kind of rich considering his definition of what's normal [*coughDEADBEATDADcough*] and then it hits me. Right between the eyes.
Apparently this is lesbian dolly porn. o_O What the blue fuckity fuck? See, there was enough of a lead up that I figured it was going to be about the dolly pictures, and I'll grant that it's a bit odd. But not worth that much build up and uses of the word "weird" or "odd" or anything. For some stupid reason I feel the need to set the record straight [no puns intended] and I still get the long song and dance of what feels like my mother trying to find out if I'm gay, but also trying to say she'd be okay with it, and yet still knowing full well that she totally wouldn't, but gosh oh golly, isn't it weird? Odd?

*headdesk* I don't know what bothers me more. That he said it, or that she felt the need to repeat it. I know the boy's homophobic. It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. But it would be nice to not have the annual you're weird and fat and gay and you should just die conversation.


Onto more fun stuff. Not dolly porn, unfortunately.


( It must be fiction, siblings who care. )

*yawn* Sleepy now.