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Last night at a family dinner at one of those nation chain "country cookin" restaurants, I greeted my brother by taking his cigarette away from him and smoking on it. No hello.

Now I've often written about what a, well, A-hole my brother can be. But I remembered I was really mean to him as a kid. I used to beat him up until suddenly when he was 13 or so, he was bigger than me. Somehow I hadn't foreseen this event and it came as a real surprise. Then there was the matter with his GI Joes.

I never could figure out why he always left them all over the counter in the bathroom. Then a drunk friend confessed to me that HE as a small child used to play make-believe with his action figures while sitting on the toilet. Sometimes he would be in the middle of a good made-up story and stay in there so long his mom would be like, "Are you OK?" So I realized Eureka! that's why my brother's GI Joes were always in the bathroom. A little toilet-time roleplaying instead of reading. I got really sick of them always being on the sink where I needed room to do my hair and makeup and stare into the mirror at myself. So I started leaving them in certain, ahem, positions together for him to find. He would be all crying and shit, "Not GI Joe!" I was mean to him, no wonder he's an affront to all women.

Laugh, its supposed to be funny.

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