My brother gave me his '92 Civic when my truck got totalled in a wreck. He rules. Not crap.

My brother is my fraternal twin. We are completely different in so many ways. Other than girls and sacramental beverages, we don't share many of the same interests. And yet, there is no one in the world that I am closer to. I'd kill for my brother and wouldn't think twice about it.

My older brother is also the shit.

Hear, hear to brethren. Life wouldn't be the same without them.

EA is the haven for the black sheep little brothers.

UNITY!

I'll say this for him, he ain't heavy...

Mayfair wrote:I'll say this for him, he ain't heavy...

Corey Greenberg is your brother?!?

Kick ass.

CRAP, with a waffle factor of zero. my brother is one of the worst people i know. i was never bullied too much at school, but he was, so it all trickled down to me and i got picked on all the time at home as a child when my parents weren't around to break it up -- which was quite often cuz we were latchkey kids. (they both had fulltime jobs as teachers in addition to dealing antiques on the side, going from one estate sale to the next.)

it's taken me years to admit that i was psychologically abused as a kid, all on account of my asshole brother. i realize it could've been much worse, but suffice it to say i'm not one of those people who'd jump at the chance to relive his childhood. and when i see True West it really strikes a nerve.

but now Pete's in jail. he turned 30 last week behind bars. he was on a beach somewhere in Georgia talking hateful nonsense to passersby and messing around with a knife. his development as a person is stunted beyond belief, but he gets money from the government for being crazy so in the time he's been in jail he's accumulated about $5000 -- which of course he'll blow in six weeks, being a perennial dipshit loser.

i envy you people with cool siblings.

This is my brother, you decide.

http://members.aol.com/wietlpachm/howto/

This is my brother, you decide.

http://members.aol.com/wietlpachm/howto/

your brother's a flight simulator?

I have no siblings.

I often wished I had a twin brother so he and I could go and have some marginally dangerous fun and get into trouble.

The closest I got was my cousin Scott but he was 10 years older.

Only Child

There’s so much I could tell you,
fingernail of my fingernail,
bloodshot pupil of my bloodshot eyes.

A house built itself up gradually
over dead dogs with tree-limb altars,
over hibernating yellow jackets,
over delicate tensions we
burn off like a tick at the temple. Oh,

where were you when the old man crept naked
through the house with his .38,
swearing there was a faucet on somewhere—
we’d been robbed and the sorry son of a bitch
had the gall to drink a glass of our water.
This dragged on into the winter.

The cold brought out the worst
in anybody.
A child got beaten unconscious
in December, with a snow shovel.
A child hid himself in the bushes
with a high-powered pellet rifle
he pumped as if loading a shotgun shell—

a Buddhist might call it karma, what happened,
the snow flying all around.

But what would your expression be
for the way his ankles were tightly bound
with a piece of chopped-off hose?
As he was dragged through the dirty snow,
what would you have whispered,
face I have never seen,
sister I keep on missing?

You’re the one I always wanted—
the grape vine that taught me how to fall,
the graveyard I call my garden.