Love you lots, Adam. Even when I hang you upside down by your toes and say I’m gonna let go. Or lock you outside in nothing but your underwear. Or tell you mom’s never going to come home.
Damn, I do some really terrible things to you.
But I also spoil the excessive amounts of sucrose out of you. So. It all works out in the end.
My best friend Shoeb’s text tone is Area Codes by Ludacris and Nate Dogg. The line where Luda says, “I’ve got hoes.” Because he’s got hoes. Anyway, I was texting him, and Adam (my eight year old precocious brother, for those of you who are unfamiliar) heard it and started repeating it.
Me: DON’T SAY THAT.
Adam: What? I’ve got holes?
Me: Hoes. Don’t say that.
Adam: Hoes? What’s wrong with that?
Me: It’s a demeaning and vulgar word. Short for whore.
Adam: OHHHH like in that song, “Don’t trust a…never trust a…won’t trust a…”
Me: YES, LIKE IN THAT SONG, now stop saying it.
Adam: So does that mean Santa Claus goes around calling kids hoes?
My brother fell asleep in my mother’s room, so I went to pick him up and tuck him into his own bed.
When I had him on my shoulder I noticed he wasn’t completely knocked out.
I asked him if I should drop him.
The next 200 feet were HYSTERICAL.
LMFAO my little brother was hanging out in my room, which he seldom does, and we were talking about biology and piano. Our mother walked by within plain sight of him because my door was open, and all of a sudden he ran and hid behind one of my walls.
Apparently he was supposed to be in bed 30 minutes ago and used me to stay up late.
Whenever some imbecilic little douchebag screws with you, your older brother can pick you up from school and scare the living shit out of him the next day.
I was trying to get a picture of him in front of the tree when he decided he wanted to record this instead. I got him a bunch of other things from Toys R Us, but when he heard the encyclopedia was from Shakey’s he decided he wanted to advertise for them on my blog LOL. Merry Christmas from Adam and I.