I know my sister thinks that I think she is an A-hole, just because she doesn't pick up trash she drops on the floor or wear clean socks that match. But she isn't an A-hole. She is A-mazing.
We just got back from a terrible battle with Brain Tumor Pirates (Please refer to "Pirates Are Holding My Father Hostage") and I have to say, that if my sister had not been one of my shipmates on this voyage, we may never have made it home at all.
Despite what you may have heard about her, during this battle, never once did my sister: Shoplift, wipe up a spill with a sock, take a crap in anything that was not a toilet, leave broken glassware and a pile of wine soaked towels on the bathroom floor for me to clean up the next morning, barf in the bathtub, barf on me, barf on my mom, barf in a Whataburger parking lot, threaten bodily harm to strangers, loose her shoes, loose my shoes or get arrested.
So I don't know if Vikings gave awards to each other back in the day, but this family of Vikings does. And I will have you know, that Best Supporting Sister will be going to my sister.
As I sit reading this story that makes me feel like a loveable degenerate, I followed the effervescent dimpled sausage casing of my Rubenesque thigh down onto my knee that seems to have missed a few months of hair removal on down to my ankle that seems to be wrapped in a dirty sock, that may or may not have been on my foot since Sunday. And as I am loathing the scenery, I take a little looksie poo to my right and notice that I am missing a sock. A pirate took it?
ReplyDeleteNow, I believe the Leading Lady Award should go to the head Viking, Sister The Red. I would like to agree, that I didn't get caught doing any charming aforementioned acts, and therefore am innocent.
The Leading Lady is important, because A) She is the lead and B) She is a lady. She also doesn't shit in her pants, or other people's pants, or leave stray tortillas on top of her newborn baby. Leading Ladies are necessary when under a pirate attack, because they will know how to hold it all together so the poopdeck swabbers don't shoplift, O.D., stick their hands down strangers pants or steal traffic cones.
Traffic cones? In an ocean? Well, where we come from, we call traffic cones hats.
Unfortunately, our father did not get an award, because he was not acting. He really was raped and pillaged by scurvy, syphillis ridden pirates. Or tumors. You say tomato, I say glioblastoma.