Thankfully him and his ego live in a different city to me so I only really see him and our mother (and his dance partner and her mother) when there is a dancing competition on. They come with all their sequins and lycra, flaunt their stuff for a few days and then leave again.
The whole dance scene freaks me out a bit to be honest. I don’t know if it’s the fake tan glow which makes their skin more orange than an actual orange, the extremely tight and high waisted pants or the diamantes on their eyelashes – guys included – but they are scary people. The intensity and nastiness is worse than any corporate game playing I have ever encountered.
And shallow. My god. They are so shallow.
In preparation for them coming to stay I’d done some baking. (Secretly I was craving something sweet and I wanted to lick the egg beaters but I let them think the spread was in their honour).
Anyway, back to the shallowness. Over morning tea today I learned that apparently this girl, a former Miss New Zealand Universe, is FAT! With HUGE thighs!
Seriously, how fucked up is that?
At this point I wanted to get my brother, sit on him with my HUGE arse and stick said egg beaters up his nostrils.
But I didn’t.
Instead I just ate his brownie.
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