Didi’s and Tin’s columns

I.E. my brother and cousins.  Here they are, and their wonderful collection of grossly morbid thoughts.

DIDI SAYS::

A rainy day passed, letting us suffer and fight for our lives. [Tin says, "O que la."]

Walking down the streets of Barcelona, stepping on old gum, sharing three tiny umbrellas with 7 people.  It was a fight for our lives.  We knew we had to kill each other in order to survive [Martin says, "Or my dad."]

I knew who we were going to choose who eat first, and that meant it was Martin, and now since I said that, he’s drooling on my pillow and farting on my pillow and pooping on my pillow.  I tell Martin scary stories about a person sleeping so close to him that they’re touching saying “I love you; you are Squishy and you are mine.” The end. >:(

TIN SAYS::

I don’t want to write anymore; I don’t need to.

And those are my cousin and brother, respectively.  It was full of nonsense and I laughed a lot. Yeah…you can see how hanging out with them atrophies my grammar to nil.