As I sit here at 11pm at night eating my bacon, eggs, fried tomato on toast (the perfect artery-aerobics), the unmistakable drones of Celine Dion come through the floor from my brothers room above.

My brother. The big tough one who never cries when the simpsons ends, who uses swear words in front of mum and dad...MUM AND DAD!!! The one who blasts this quiet little neighborhood with Eminem during the daylight hours, is now listening to the soothing *cough* strains of Celine Dion.

Your secrets out bro.

PS.
Sam. We are now even for the time that you beat me up and dislocated my spine simply because I hid a decaying Blue Tongue Lizard under your bed for a day, the smell of which was so bad that you were forced into sleeping in the loungeroom for the next two days.

"Blah... Prick!! blah blah... it smells... blah blah... i vomited when i smelt it... blah blah whine whine." - Sam

We are even I say.

PSS.
Celine Dion is on repeat.