Does this blog need more Shamus Van Nostrum?
Yes, because I am him and I love myself | 7 (17%) |
Yes, because I'm not him but I'm not mentally well | 0 (0%) |
No, he does not interest me | 0 (0%) |
I don't care/Who's Shamus? | 3 (7%) |
Don't you have another, more interesting brother you haven't even mentioned? | 29 (74%) |
I would graph it, but I have an angry computer, plus I'm lazy, a combination which leads to no pretty graphs. If you really need a picture, just close your eyes and think of delicious pie. Now eat the pie. Wait, the pie is not actually pie, it's a big lemon. Now open your eyes. Did you make a sour face? Isn't that a fun trick? Okay, close them again, now the pie is mainly made up of Mysterious Brother X, with a chunk of Shamus and a dash of apathy/confusion.
What have I learned from this experience? Well, first, I need to give a shorter time-line for polls because I really didn't care 3 days into this poll. Second, Shamus is a crafty one. It's lucky that I'm more clever and made an answer so obviously him that he had to reveal his evil plot by choosing it repeatedly. Third, I'm not certain people know what a question mark means, because I think they chose it assuming it was a promise that a more interesting brother exists, but there's every chance that the answer to that question would be a simple "no". That would be a waste of a vote.
To be honest, I don't really know the answer to the winning question. Yes, Mysterious Brother X (MBX) does exist, but is he more interesting? I have no idea, because, already being the most amusing child, I haven't spent a lot of time figuring out 2nd and 3rd place. I mean, as long as I'm around, it really doesn't matter anyways.
The unfortunate problem with blogging about MBX is that he is not fond of me telling all the best stories about him. I think I'm allowed to tell ones that involve both of us though, like how we used to sit in my closet, in the dark, and play farm. Yes, that's right, in the dark, because all we needed was the power of our imagination. I know it sounds odd, but, I've got to say it's a thousand times better than Farmville. It was also safer than playing in the old fridge in our basement, which we also were fond of. It was not a farm though, it was a club house for me, MBX and a stick of butter. I think our club house would have been way more awesome if my mother wasn't always "rescuing" us from it.
I'm not sure I have much more to say about MBX at this point, except for the many many things that would end in total alienation of 50% of my brothers. In general, I try to make a habit of not alienating family, because they're pretty much walking kidney farms. So far, my kidneys seem good, but, from what I hear, you never quite know when a night at the bar will end with kidney theft. If some med students do decide to steal my kidneys, I hope that they at least try to stitch in their initials when they sew me back up. Then I'll have a cool scar and a clue to the "Mystery of the Missing Kidneys". At first, I'll just know it's someone with the initials "JC" or "MF" or "BM", but, over time and through careful study with a tiny mirror, I will realize that they must have been right handed, and that they most likely grew up in the suburbs of Indianapolis. I don't know how I will learn this, but I'm obsessive, so once my kidneys are gone, I'll spend a lot of my time learning about handwriting and such. Eventually we will meet face to face and I'll realize that I still have a number of organs they probably wouldn't mind harvesting, and I'll run away, but not before snapping a picture of them to post on my blog. And all this will not be possible if I don't keep potential replacement kidneys on my good side (cause otherwise, they steal my kidney and I die, so no time for exciting learning and chasing).
Today's happy song is I Got You Under My Skin, sung by Frank Sinatra, mainly because, who knew a song about parasites could be so perky? Especially parasites that have already spread to your heart (deep in the heart, actually), which is rarely, if ever, a good thing. But, despite his obviously inevitable demise, the band keeps playing, and then I forget that he's probably going to die soon and it won't be a fun death. And the forgetting is what makes this a happy song. If I ever get drunk and someone steals my kidney, I'll sing them this song to them as well. We'll probably have a good laugh about it until I pass out from the pain.
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