'Fuck no. I'll be knee deep in ho's and well-earned success.'
Marvin and I, in conversation
Hello! This is Marvin's repressed elder sibling. (obligatory link to my website) I'm here because having one blog is not enough, and in a phenomenon known as guest blogging, I've decided that the frogspawn I live with needs some wit and sophistication inserted into his space.
By now if you have met my brother in person, you would know that physically speaking he is as a god among men. Observe.
One simply has to glance upon his chiseled countenace and dapper demeanor to understand that his method of 'getting girls' simply involves him walking into a room. It would not be exaggeration by any stretch of the imagination to say that he exudes an aura of confidence and virility that proves to be far too much match for the average estrogen-burdened teenager. Common it is to see him poised in the middle of conversation with a flock of nubile females literally hanging from his every word. The general impression is that if he only smiled, their clothes would fall off.
This phenomenon is far more common than you might think. One merely has to look at his facebook profile, or in fact, his telephone address book to see a list of female monikers as long as your leg. (longer, if you're under 5'7") He befriends them like other men breathe air (that is to say, raggedly, and in short bursts). He knows dozens of them by their first name, whilst other lesser men struggle to be seen in the same room as one. In the midst of all this sexual prowess, of manly conquest, lies one tiny insignificant anomaly:
Me.
Example 1: Oh hello random gorgeous stranger I have never met before, why yes I will gladly autograph your bosom and lick strawberry jam from your forehead, oh by the way this is my brother. Say hi Calvin.
Example 2: Sorry I'm so late Calvin, I was merely rearranging my disheveled appearance with the help of a capricious little minx from my tuition center; you wouldn't believe the things you can get into while trying to sort out a perfectly honest misunderstanding, ha ha.
Or my personal favorite:
Me: (as he stumbles into our room at 3 in the morning) Alright, what's her name?
Him: Who? Oh... right. Er... Susan. I think.
Snarky jealousy aside, it is actually quite perplexing (on a purely intellectual level) for him to have received all the charm and dastardly good looks, while I'm left with all the 'important' things, i.e. an education, considerable capacity for creative expression, and an unjaded optimistic worldview.
Some cosmic force might refer to this as balance, or yin-yang perhaps; a celestial separation of male and unmale. Of chicked and chickless. Sexed and depressed.
But I know the truth; it's simply a test, a grand experiment. One day character and inner beauty will triumph over surface appearance and pheremones.
...right?
