for my brother

(The title is in lower case because this is for my little brother. My "Big Brother" stopped coming to pick me up after school about 14 years ago. I think he was arrested and kicked out of the Boys and Girls club program all together..?)

First, I'd like to point out the relevence of this blog because I am venturing to say that it is the first ever written word to begin with a parenthetical.

Second, today's blog is dedicated to my brother, Two Guns. A young "Comedic Literary" if you will. He is an aspiring writer and I think his comedy is brilliant. Right now he's in school studying that writer's stuff... I believe he also told me he's minoring in occupational therapy in hopes of one day finding a cure for not only Writer's Cramp but also Writer's Block. Anyway, check out his blog because it has some extremely funny writing hidden in the subtleties of his words. It's in my opinion that he'll make a great jouranlist or novelist or occupational therapist or waiter one day.

Now, with all that said, I feel it should be known that he most definitely received his seemingly raw talent for comedy directly from my side of the family.

It's true, without the constant dosage of elderly brother abuse I don't believe there is any way that he would have become the awkward introvert that he is today. And without the constant nurturing of ridicule that I bestowed upon him day after day YEAR after YEAR how could he be quite as articulate in his subtle (some might say passive) literary irony? I think it impossible.

So, ...sh#$! Writer's block. Find that cure, my funny lil' kin. God's speed.