Celebrating Festivus

In the spirit of Festivus, it's time for the Airing of Grievences.

First up is my mother. She is a miserable driver. She has borderline Turrets Syndrome when it comes to giving me inane compliments. She treats me like I'm 4 years old. I'm a grown ass man! Listen ma, I don't need you to change me. Do you know how embarrassing it is to shit your pants when you're a grown ass man? I don't need my mommy changing me on top of that.

Next, and last, is my brother. Last week, he gave me a text at 9:13am with the words, "I just saw Andrew Sullivan." I asked him why he texted me that at 9:13am when he knows I don't wake up until at least noon and we were going to talk on the phone that night for our football pool. He said it was text-worthy, but not worth sitting on until that night, and that I was the only person he knows who would have been familiar with the bearded British conservative blogger who voted for Obama. I told him that Andrew Sullivan would be embarrassed if he ever heard this story. He knows he's not worth waking me up over. My brother disagreed; he said Andrew Sullivan was big time. I asked my brother, "Then how come I'm the only person you know who has ever heard of him?" At which point he told me to go fuck myself.

Also, my brother has a Jew face that's more stereotypical than Bernie Madoff's greed. Neo-nazi cartoonists have looked at his face and thought it was too offensive to depict as an "average Jew."

Family. It's all we got.