Fuck the boat!

I've heard people complain about having to watch photos of other people's vacations.

I'm quite the contrary.

I fucking love it.

I was ecstatic on Tuesday when my brother finally got to showing us photos from his trip.

I was so elated, that I was stupid enough to allow my mom to watch along with us.

Everything was fine... except for the fact that my brother steered the ship. I was a little weary over this because he was on my computer... which is automatically logged in to the pages that require a password... like, say... my blog.

Not that I would mind if he knew of the existence of it... no, who am I kidding? I would care, A LOT.

Back in 4th grade he discovered my "journal" and he'd recite some of my entries out of the blue-- for example, doing something as mundane as tossing the football around:

Ruffles: Izzzzzzzzak!

Me: WTF?

Ruffles: Are you going to see Izzzzzzak today?

Me:... uh... it's Tuesday... no, I'm not.

(This was when I had this intense crush on one of the altar boys. I didn't know how to spell his name back then, so I'd just fluctuate in the spelling each time he made it in my journal. We all can guess what the name was)

Anyway, aside from the thought of my brother going through my shit the moment I'd leave his sight, I was cool... we all were.

We saw his safari shit, 

"This was the oldest elephant in the reserve. His wrinkly ass was all like 'this is MY house!'"- Ruffles

His visits to historic mosques,

That chandelier in the Aya Sofia? Mom wants it.

His I'm-a-drunk-tourist-at-the-World-Cup shots

He met the love of my life... CryBaby DosSantos

Set aside our love/hate relationship with Donovan

Even the HDT shots he got for me (this one deserves its own entry some time later).
Then we saw a photo where he was... bustin' some Blue Steel or some shit:

Too sexy for his shirt? Calm down, Zoolander.

He tried to explain his pose.

Bro: It's 'cause I have this friend... Mark. He like... has all these fucking poses on Facebook... they're all serious and shit... but so fucking hilarious. So we were imitating him... here, I'll show you what I'm talking about.

Ruffles proceeds to get on FB, page I was still logged in, and seeing that, he just went to the guy's page anyway.

Bro: A shit... you're not his friend... so... let's see if we can see any photos.

He clicks on the Photos tab... and Mark has three albums I can look at.

The very first album?

"Hossfest: The Many Faces of King Rafa."

Album cover?

I knew that fucking boat would get us in trouble some day!

Jesus Christ...

Anyway, who was over Rafa's shoulder at that very moment?

Mom.

Oh, hermanito... you fucked yourself real nice with this one...

Bro and I sat quietly, back turned to Mom... and using our peripherals to toss "OH FUCK!" looks at each other.

Ruffles acted as if everything was normal, and he clicked on Mark's profile pictures tab.

Mom was silent.

Does she know about the tattoo now? Oh yeah... she knows.
Did she rip Rafa's skin off like she had once sworn she would if she caught any one of us with a tattoo on our body? No.

Needless to say, we are all living in fear right now... ready for a surprise attack.
Will she blind-fold us one night and drive us out to the middle of the desert... only to put a bullet in our head then catch the car on fire?
Will she handcuff us to our bed, rip our tongue out, and proceed with the skin-ripping promise?
Will she feed us GHB, then drive our unconscious bodies to Lake Mead and throw us into the water?
Who knows.
All thanks to Rafa for being the dumbfuck with the boat on his chest... and Sister and I for being dumbshit accomplices.

Thank you, Facebook!