More of nothing, sometimes of something

It's ten to nine in the AM, and I already feel like descending into something self mutilating and messy. This is worth blogging about for the sheer fact that I have been strong since my first date with Michael *blushblush* (and because I have a full pint glass of white wine). I'm going to write a post to keep my mind off it. Bear with me. *BEARRAWR*
Oh my gods- the fart I just created (and there's another) smells like rotting baby skunk flesh. The follow-ups aren't as potent which leads to me to start leaning into the gas I have just expelled (and inhaling) to check if I truley am the GOD of GAS. I am not. I am fully prepared to give that title to Mike... my brother may yet take the throne and I'm sure he remembers why he doesn't tickle me anymore.
On the topic, I really do love my big brother, and Sofa you'll agree, they are integral parts of growing up aren't they? Maybe it's selective memory, but I don't remember my brother ever being particularly unkind to me- sure, he held me upside-down by my ankles but I thought it was so much fun to playfight with him. I remembered whilst on the bog yesterday something that I do occasionally find myself remembering- I was about four years old, and walking by my father's old slate house by the fields with Dan, Jan, and the pricklefuck of a father (maybe we got off on the wrong foot LOL), and peeling an orange. I said 'I don't like the pith' and was told NEVER EVER to repeat what I just said by my father. Misheard much? But my big brother told me not to worry and that he hadn't understood, and we walked behind him, and then I felt better. And he let me play his Sonic games, and finished food when I didn't like it if no one was looking, and he'd drop everything in an instant if I need him. I guess I don't tell him enough that he's super awsome :D Even if we can't express emotions properly :P
...