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I am NOW a contributor!

I like how it says I am a contributor here yet I have not contributed anything. Well here is something I recently wrote. I'll try to contribute more...I guess.

The Blind Leading the Blind

I haven't ever really had to share a room with my brother. When I was younger I had bunk beds that my brother inherited from me at birth and, being the scaredy-cat kid that I was (just hearing the theme from Unsolved Mysteries would have me diving for the covers) I tended more often than not to occupy the top bunk, although I possessed my own separate room. I was so afraid, that for years I would take a running start for my bed and leap into it. This was of course to avoid having my ankles exposed to any attacks from under the bed. Since junior high school I've pretty much stuck to my own room, but for the last five weeks I've had to share not only my room but also my bed with my brother. Before you start getting any West Virginian thoughts let me note that my bed consists of three futon mattresses, so to "share" it I literally just divided it. We were however sleeping side by side because although my room is cozy for one it is cramped for two. So anyway we've been bunking together for five weeks now, it's more like camping. We'd talk about movies and video games in the dark, I'd blast ass towards my brother's side of the floor to no avail, my brother you see was born with no sense of smell. On our last morning together we woke up and watched Aliens from the semi-comfort of our floor beds making comments about how awesome Bill Paxton is as comic relief.

After pancakes we went to the local grocery store to pick up some food stuffs for my brother's long ass journey home. On the way from the United States we came to the conclusion that they weren't feeding us food but ass covered in papier-mâché and then painted to look like food. Before exiting we headed to the 4th floor arcade where I tried in vain to convince my brother to sit for just one more kita kuri picture taking session. While trying to decide between the "Silky Pretty" machine or the one covered in diamonds and j-pop girls I glanced a game machine shaped like a tiny u-haul truck which bore on it's side the words "Lost on the Island of Spice". I pulled back the curtain to reveal two mounted machine guns, and immediately ushered my brother inside. The story (in English!) is that you and your friend are on a shady tour through some exotic jungle, all the sudden shit goes crazy and the locals are screaming, giant spiders are chasing you! From the back of the cab you have to shoot the shit out of them, and those bitches can jump! Then there's some other stuff, mosquitoes, worms, a giant boss spider. It was pretty awesome.

On the way home from the grocery store we found a porno mag lying in the middle of the street. We collected it and began to inspect it. On the back cover there was an ad for some kind of hair tonic that showed a picture of a man who looked as if an animal had bitten random chunks off the top of his scalp. At home further inspection revealed some ridiculous comics of guys licking girls butts which my brother told me not to look at at the lunch table. I told him it was ok because on the opposite page was a full page color ad for a seafood ramen dish.

At last I escorted my brother to the station to wait for the airport bus. While waiting I was bumped into by a man and a woman walking together. As they passed me I noticed that the couple, who were arm in arm and holding matching red and white canes, were blind. As the man walked face first into a pole I looked at my brother and said, "Are you by any chance familiar with the expression-", he cut me off there with deep laugher and said, "Yes, I was about to say that to you." We acknowledged that there had been a vulcan mind meld between us.

Finally the bus arrived and after a few hugs and some motherly, "Take care of yourself"s and "Be carefull"s he boarded. Of course, as is always the case in this country, you have to sit on the unmoving bus waving at the other person for another three to four minutes. There was much waving. At one point a high school kid ducked in front of me, although my brother's seat on the bus was a good five feet above me, because he didn't want to disrupt our waving, allowing for one final laugh between siblings who were now separated by a sheet of glass.

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