Lately, my brother has suddenly turned into a fabulous musician, and as we all know, this can only mean one thing in college: attention from the opposite gender. He posts his songs on Facebook and hordes of hormonal young ladies vie for his attention with comments like
"Name this one after me, Trev."
"This sounds like a chorus of angels conversing about you, Trevor."
"Omgsh, this is lyk teh best thing ever lolol!"
Now, normally adolescents cyber-flirting wouldn't bother me, but for some reason, when I see those coy little misspellings, those subtle pleas for late-night hand-holding, something in my sweet little personality snaps and an angry, sisterly bear is unleashed.
"A CHORUS of ANGELS?!!??!?!!111?! Oh my GOSH. Jordan. Jordaaaan! These girls can't talk to my brother like that! He's a, a, a kid. Not a piece of meat!"
"Exactly! These little hussies will give him nothing but trouble. I know! I've done it before! He has a tender heart!...probably...."
The point I'm getting at is if you're a woman and if you're trying to love my brother, you have to go through me first. Good luck.