Brothers and pictures

A lot of people don't know I have a brother and when I happen to bring him up in conversation they say oh, I didn't know you had a brother.

He's not a secret or anything. I just don't mention him very often. They're funny things, siblings. My brother's been part of my life since I was born and has seen me through various stages of my life. In some ways he knows me better than most people. In others, not at all.

In books and films, big brothers are ace. They look out for you, they help you out, they have fit friends. Not my brother. Well, I did have a crush on a couple of his mates (what was I thinking), but aside from that, most of my childhood memories are less than pleasant.

Once, when I was quite small and innocent, he made me shout "CONDOMS" at the top of my voice in our back garden. I sort of knew it was a naughty word, but I didn't have a clue what it meant. On my first day of secondary school, he gave me some helpful brotherly advice. I was quite nervous, having read lots of school books of the type where you risk getting your head flushed down the toilet if you don't do the right thing. He told me that while all the boys wear their blazers undone, girls always did them up - it just wasn't cool the other way. After some careful observation on the school bus, I realised this was clearly a lie. More dangerously, he told me that you could wave your hand through the blue part of bunsen burners, it wasn't hot at all, but the red flame would scorch you. Sheer evilness if you ask me. We used to physically fight quite a lot too - we were quite matched, as while he was physically weaker in many ways back then, he had very bony arms and packed a mean punch.

My favourite memory of my big bro, who had quite a temper on him, was the time, shortly before we were due to go on holiday, that I refused to watch him play Mario on his NES. He was so angry, he punched through a window. My parents were not best pleased. Neither was I - it was my bedroom window.

He still knows how to get on my nerves like no-one else, talks for a maximum of ten seconds on the telephone, and constantly tries to turn me to his point of view. But actually, he's rather good company. I rarely see him upwards of two or three times a year, and it's usually a kind of fly-by night visit and on some of these occasions he deliberately winds me up. He's very funny, witty and his opinions, while sometimes rather forcefully stated are always...interesting.

Anyway, we had a wicked cool time together when I visited him a couple of weeks ago. We even had our picture taken together. I can't remember when that last happened.



And here's a lovely pic of me and HF at the top of St Paul's Cathedral being tourists in London (terribly good fun, I highly recommend it). It was very pretty, bit chilly mind.



More on that story later.