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11:45 a.m. - April 02, 2002
Fraternal epistles and merrypainting
My brother is in town to spend his spring break painting my house and already his cadre has descended with their Mustangs parked in my driveway and loud voices jarring the dust on the floors. He pleads for me not to tell them that he is planning on becoming a pharmacist or chemistry teacher, plans that hinge on PCAT scores and finding a school near enough the beach to surf and so far he hasn't had any luck with that necessity and I say Godspeed and goodhaste and don't drip paint.

I've always thought of him as the most normal sibling in my family and perhaps the most normal individual in my extended family when I think about it, but I wouldn't have thought he'd be ubernormal and end up a pharmacist in a white apron who writes poetry in secret. He carried a communique to me from my mother who's abandoned any hope of me replying to her frequent requests that I divulge reasons why I've ruined the ex-girlfriend's life. Bear in mind that she lives in Maryland and cannot physically sink her acrylic nails into my brain and download automatically, so she sends my brother without realizing he's simply a wannabe pharmacist uninterested in espionage and tells me what information he's been asked to supply and we laugh.

What the hell was that? Nasty. I had an ear wax chunk fall out of my ear. I'm only partially disgusted by that but wonder now why I can clip my nails one week and Q-tip another, but not accomplish both tasks within the same time period.

Off to engage in self-grooming.

 

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