Prophet of the Sam

Prophet of the Sam
Georgia, USA
December 31
Head Priest
The Cult of Sam
I kind of figured out how to make my own religion. I think you can make yours too... If you need that. If you don't, I might make you laugh. And we could all use that.


Prophet of the Sam's Links

JUNE 1, 2010 2:09PM

The Tapestry Series: My Bro

Rate: 3 Flag
Munger Cheese
This, ladies and gentlemen, is Munger Cheese.
Munger cheese is nearly impossible to get unless you have access to at least one Munger, however, the cheese is much more potent with two. 
My Bro:
Preston and I are the two weird siblings who always stay together at family events.  Like ducklings, we take turns following each others' lead, and it just seems normal to us.   But we were always like that.
Preston was only born a little under two years after I was.  Being that close in age made becoming best buds really easy.  He is the person who's seen me bawl like a little girl at Charlotte's Web because I was a little girl loosing my shit over Charlotte's Web.  He's the hero (or the sidekick) that went on all of my fantastical adventures with me.  
He is the Riggs to my Murtaugh.
The Luigi to my Mario:
 Mario Luigi Standing
The Leonardo to my Donatello:
I'm fairly certain it was the cool Christmas toys he always got that brought us together in the beginning.  I always got baby dolls and stuff like that (though he totally fed a cabbage patch doll and changed a kewpie diaper back in the day), Preston got fake guns and knives.  
Playing cops and robbers was probably one of the main forms of entertainment for us kids.  Honestly, when I look back on it, we were so obsessed that we probably should have just went out for the force and become douche bag traffic cops who never seem to make detective.  At least we'd be in better employment situations.

But even without all the extra toys we had a strong bond.  We hardly ever played alone when we were kids.  Even when we got our first video game system.  Preston would watch me play whatever game I wanted to play, then I would watch him.  
We just seemed to complicate each other.  I talked too much, and he was really shy.  I had book-smarts and he had common sense.  That whole deal.  And no matter how made we ever got at each other, we always knew it wouldn't carry over into the next day.
But things weren't always cap guns and video games.  We also had our fair share of hard times.  And those were the times that brought us closer even more.  
We watched our grandmother die slowly as our innocent belief in the innate goodness of the world slipped away with her.  We made the best out of what little money we had and shared it to make each other happy.  Then we made the incredibly hard decision to leave our mom and live with our dad.
"I'll go wherever you go."  He said to me.
And so the little ducklings waddled away from their childhood; together as always.
But there were more good times to be had.  I was there the first time he got wasted.  The boy puked on three people before he made it to the bathroom.  I was there when he got caught with a girl in the house and was grounded for what seemed like forever at the time.  And I was there when he got drunk on a razor scooter and broke the hell out of his arm.
"Oy!"  He said to me at three o'clock in the morning.
"Dude, you've got to stop drunk dialing me."  I replied.
"Well, I am drunk, but I need you to come to the hospital.  I broke my arm."
"If I get my ass out of this bed and haul it all the way to the hospital and you're not there you are so gonna be in trouble."
He was there and so was his arm... kinda.
And then, drunk as a skunk, he tells me that I have to be the one to call Dad... and tell him about the penis ring that the doctors were going to have to take out before surgery. (They were having trouble finding the pliers)
Sometimes my brother can make me laugh harder than anyone on the planet.  He can turn a story about a bowel movement into a thirty minute tirade.  I have the distinct privilege of knowing that one of the things he hates most in the world is lotion infused toilet paper.  
He'll watch chick flicks with me and we'll hold each other while we cry (yes, we're that gay).
I've watched him break some hearts, have his heart broken, and every now and then find a place in his heart for someone special.
He's watched me figure out that I was gay, then revel in the fact that we can look at hot chicks together.
I plan on having a lot more good times with my bro.  And I know we'll be there for each other for the bad ones that will surely come.  
In the meantime, we'll just continue to cheese it up. 
And the little ducklings continued to get into lots of trouble as they waddled through a mucky world. 

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Great tribute. I am really glad you're writing again.
It's so good to see you, Mung! Great story of sibling love....! xoxoxoxx
Aww . . . everyone should have a brother like that! Seriously, excellent tribute.
Charming end to end. My two youngest daughters are less than 2 years apart and have hilarious closeness so i take that comment as literally true: be close enough in age and you have a magic relationship.