A.D.D - Useless Information From A Credible SourceSubmitted by Replen at 2011-04-16 12:09:28 EDT
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Some of the lies my brother told me as a child and some of the advice he gave me as a teenager.
We were in the back of the car in the 80s and 'Papa Don't Preach' by Madonna was playing with bad reception on the radio. I asked him what the words were and he told me "puppy dog bridge". I sang that for the rest of journey and only discovered much later why everyone was laughing.
He told me that a girls private part was called a 'wim wam' and boys was a 'winkle'. I took some heavy ridicule for days after passing this information on at school to more grown up kids. In fact it was level with the ridicule I got after he convinced me that the sticky stuff on the back of envelopes was horse sperm.
On another car journey I asked him what the reflective panels on the car in front were for and he told me to shut up. I asked the same question on the return journey that night and he told me that when they lit up it meant there was a dog being sick in the car in front. After a few reflections from our headlights I told my mother that I hoped the dog in front was okay. She leant back and gave my brother a brutal slap.
On my first day of secondary school he told me to start a fight with the biggest kid I could find. So I did. I went up to this massive black kid who could have passed for 18 and clocked him right in the face with a cheap shot. He composed himself and then proceeded to absolutely beat the shit out of me for minutes before the teachers broke it up. I never had another fight and no-one ever fucked with me for the remaining 5 years of school. The black kid did break my leg playing football later that year though.
My brother told me to buy a ticket to Reading Festival 2000 with my birthday money. I went and it was awesome, one the best weekends of my life still to this day. However there will now always be photographic evidence of me in a limp bizkit t-shirt and a backwards facing baseball cap throwing a nu-metal pose. Printouts of this typically surface EVERY year around my birthday and are left in public places (like the lifts at work).
When I was preparing to go the college (the English kind) my brother told me not to be picky with girls. He told me it may not be the popular choice at the time and I would take some shit, but it would be better in the long run if I concentrated on banging a load of easy ugly/fat chicks rather than hold out and kid myself with the pretty ones. My nickname was 'Sledge' (as in, pulled by dogs) for 5 fucking years. However a decade later and a beer with my college mates whilst pondering our formative years proved that time respects quantity over quality.