BRO: Remember when I told you last week that I was driving over the bridge on my way to poker and a bird shat right through my sunroof onto my head?
ME: Oh, yes! That was classic.
BRO: Well --
ME: (interrupting) IT HAPPENED AGAIN!
BRO: Nope. (pause) So, I'm driving along and I see this jogger.
ME: And a bird shat on him?
BRO: Well, maybe, but that's not it. Guess how the jogger was dressed?
ME: Uhhhhhh... (That's me without any clue whatsoever.)
BRO: NINJA! The jogger was dressed like a ninja, complete with a sword.
ME: Uhhhhhh...
BRO: A NINJA! A MOTHERF*****G NINJA!!!!!!!
ME: A ninja was jogging over the bridge?
BRO: With a sword! I had to call the police. I told them that I'm not drunk and they might not believe me, but they should probably have someone check it out. It's not every day you see a ninja with a sword jogging on a bridge.
ME: True. I can't even remember the last time I saw a ninja (never), let alone a jogging ninja, and especially not a jogging ninja on a bridge. A jogging ninja with a sword, though -- that's a new one.
This is how most of the conversations go between my brother and me. Seriously, if it isn't Alfred Hitchcock's birds shitting all over one of us, it's damn ninjas, who, by the way, are supposed to be invisible, so this sword-carrying jogging ninja is a major fail to his tribe.
Go ahead and be jealous. I'm not going to lie -- it's good to be us.
