Soon now my brother
Glenn climb’s Seventy’s Ladder:
get unfat, you brute!
I am not far behind him.
He ‘breaks wind*’ for me.
- (Just a touch under 13 months separates our births – the “other one” Storm -somehow is part of his real name, fittingly so, is 25 months in arrears – and I followed in trace much of my younger life: same teachers, mostly, but, then some of the kids in my Trigonometry and Algebra II class my junior year in high school were called by their uncle’s or aunt’s or mom or dad’s names; and there’s a tale there, too! – but I digress. I hope both my brothers’ owners have climbed all over them about their weight because I fancy not going to their funerals – and I am planning not to throw one for myself: so there! Wanna feed bears, gators and wading birds and river otters on The Wekiva though my first Sister-in-Law covets my corpse for an Arlington National planting. Back to Glenn: he had the most awful-god sulpher farts and mom would send me to his room to roust him out for breakfast – how any guy could forego breakfast for cartoons and still be a tub is beyond me. I’d run into his room – yes, I opened the door quietly; you could say sneakily, and attacked from above! Being behemoth, he eventually would recover, wrap me in sheets and stuff and law a ghastly great green phart! What I do for filial love and devotion!
- Happy Birthday, Bro! Be well and buss your two best girls!)