10:19 p.m. - 2001-11-29
The "P" stands for Poo.
Well it's official. My little punk brother Matty P. (the "P" stands for Poo) has started a diary. As the oldest of five I'm used to having the younger siblings trying their damnedest to follow in my footsteps, clamoring to be just like their older, wiser, fresher big bro. Fucking copy catters.

Matty P. wasted his whole second entry on what a great man I am, so sweet. I don't say wasted because he is wrong or misinformed, but because everyone already knows this.

Ah well, young M.P. is a bright one. He is the smarter, younger, non-miniature version of heckafresh who is not lying when he talks of running the world. I wish he'd hurry up and give me a cushy cabinet job already though.

I have been truly blessed with a passel of great siblings. I'm not just saying that because they laugh at all my stupid jokes and lend me money either. They are all good folks, and as much friends as they are blood relatives.

My Sis is an incredible photographer and is smart and funny and way better looking than any of us boys (which is no easy task).

My brother Pookin Pantyhose is a big huge sweetheart of a galoot who lives in rural Canada and races downhill mountain bikes. I've seen him ride up a fallen tree on his bike that was well over fifteen feet in the air at it's highest point. He's got no fear, (except for missing out on my mom's pumpkin pie).

My littlest brother Bubba could be the smartest of us all. He was holding up his end of religious discussions at age four, and I'm not talking about just repeating things he had heard, truly philosophical.

And of course heeeybooocha/Matty, who was corrupted by yours truly but quickly surpassed me in vices, education and size.

All my little brothers are bigger than me by height and weight, but they will always be my little brothers. They know who's the boss of them.

Yes I am.

Yes I am infinity.

Yes I am infinity plus one. Checkmate.

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