I gotta say, there's nothing better than your brother with the pimped-out mini-van calling about protein drinks on a Friday night when you're drunk. The brother that loves NASCAR and has named his kid after a WWF wrestler has called to ask if protein drinks are what fills you up.
Clearly, he thinks I'm the pinnacle of healthy living.
He must not know that I'm currently eating seasoned french fries drenched in Ranch, and that I had gummy bears and a diet Pepsi for lunch.
Even funnier, he has no idea I'm three sheets to the wind and giving him advice.
But he's chatting (yes, we're on the phone right now) about my mother's fish tank, the dispute with her drunk husband over fish babies, and how hot it is in the factory he spends his days in. He reports there's a tornado watch in Michigan, the trees are blowing over, and his WWF namesake is really good at sliding in to the bases in t-ball.
So, if you're in Michigan, get your ass in the basement.
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