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Twin Bothers

I was thinking to myself the other day, “I’m really glad I’m not a twin, because I would probably annoy myself all the time.”  I mean, I had to seriously think about it.  There’s really only room enough in this world for one of me.  I’d get on my nerves constantly, what with all the manic behavior, insane conspiracy theories, and flatulence.  My parents were wise to stop at one.

Honestly, I can say I don’t really know how people put up with me.  I’m all over the place, as evidenced by everything on this blog.  My wife is actually due for a vote into sainthood.  I recommend that you get your ballot in before the Cardinals vote.  I’m hoping Pujols doesn’t snub her again this year.  On the other hand, she’s living the exciting life every woman dreams of.  Lord knows every day is an adventure.  She never knows for sure if today is going to be the day I set fire to the curtains again.

Just now, I’m wondering what my twin brother’s name would be.  I think most people’s first instinct would be to say “Patrick”, thinking my parents would go with another “P” name.  I disagree.

I just do, and it’s my right.

When I was a child, every day after school, my siblings and I would play “school” (don’t ask me why).  Of course, my sister would be the teacher (turns out she is one now), and my next older brother and I would be the students.  I don’t remember if my oldest brother would also get involved.  He may have just been the Superintendent, checking in periodically to tell us that our budget was being slashed, and the children would all have to trade their textbooks for old newspapers that still had advertisements about how good smoking is for you.

Now you’re really going to think we were crazy, but when we were young, we also held elections for our stuffed animals to hold higher office.  Ted, my oldest brother’s stuffed bear, always won re-election as President.  But, if you ask me, he was running a very suspect smear campaign against Go-Go, my rainbow-colored bunny.  He got a few incriminating photos of Go-Go and ran some really negative ads painting him as a racist.  The Ethics Committee is still out on that one, some 18 years later, due to evidence tampering.

Still, Go-Go got in as the Treasurer most of the time, because my vote was bought.  Since I knew Ted would take the White House, I bargained with my brother to cast his vote for Go-Go to be Treasurer in exchange for a Presidential nod for Ted.  Also, I had to bury a story about Ted getting boozed up and hitting a hotel bellhop with an alarm clock.  It was much closer to real politics than I knew at the time.

I’ll bet you think I’m making this up.  I wish.

Back to the story at hand.  When we would play “school”, I always wanted my name to be Brandon.  To this day, I don’t know why.  Any theories?

  1. Josh (#1 Fan)
    August 4, 2009 at 11:06 pm

    You always want what you can’t have?

  2. Brandon
    August 5, 2009 at 12:36 am

    cuz Brandon is a sweet name.

  3. Phil
    August 5, 2009 at 9:05 pm

    Wow, I hadn’t thought about stuffed animal elections in forever. We were a goofy bunch. Of course, what else do you do when you live in the middle of nowhere without cable and it’s a billion degrees outside?

  4. Anne-Lise Jasinski
    August 7, 2009 at 10:22 pm

    My father, who is also a conspiracy theorist, believes we all had a twin in the womb, but most of the time the stronger one, like, absorbs the weaker one, or something. I might have a few of the scientific details a little mixed up, but I think I have the gist of it. Anyway, that’s why you hear news stories of guys with blinding migraines all their life, and then they do surgery and find a set of teeth in their frontal lobe. So my theory is that your mom subconsciously picked names for both of you in the womb, but only Paul made it…

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