What IS up?

Sister has been going out every night since Thursday.
I'd be cool with it if she would return home sober.
Actually, I'd be cool with her drunkenness if she 1) had someone else drive her home, and 2) stopped thinking she was such a badass.

She's having some sort of issue with her ex. He's still going around asking about her, and then proceeds to proclaim her the stalker... so she is going out and getting drunk to prove... she's fine without him? I don't know... she thinks like a girl... I don't know much about that, since I only think like an idiot.

Anyway, I've bumped into her a couple of times after she returns home. It's easy to tell when she's had one too many vodka tonics (such a pussy drink! But whatever) because (besides her fucking incessant "I'm good," "Deuces buddy," and the overload of Rihanna/Kanye/Jay-Z-lyric-related tweets. She then acts surprised when I call her out on it. WE FOLLOW EACH OTHER ON TWITTER, GENIUS!) she becomes hellbent on talking to me. And she turns into a chola.

Sister: So I called out ArgentinianFriend for talking to ExBoyfriend about me.
Me: Oh yeah? What happened? (rolling my eyes. Like I want to hear this at three in the morning)
Sister's tone changes. It gets... scratchy... deeper.
Sister: I told her she better not fucking have my name drop out of her mouth whenever she's dealing with him.
Me: How'd she react? What did she do?
Sister: Nothing, 'cause she knows what's up.
(^ Like, seriously? You only say that when you're a street-fighter with a winning record)
Me: Knows what's up? Calm down, hoodrat. What IS up? What would you do?
Sister half-closes her eyes, raises her chin, and winks at me.
Me: I'm not going to fight her for you, dude. You fucking little chola. "Knows what's up"... who the hell are you talking to, blood?
(back in elementary... actually, for her entire life, she has relied on me to fight her fights. She starts them, and since she's such a horrible fighter, she tags me in to take over the battle. Which I usually DO... but  it doesn't mean I like it. I just hate seeing a bruised Sister a lot more)

She said that last night.
Then she updated her status this morning:
Keep my name out of your mouth, mind your own business, and just please stop obsessing over things that don't matter or concern you. Thanks!
Her friend then commented:
I suppose you want me to take the hidden cameras out of your bedroom and to stop peeking in the window at night as well huh? So demanding.

So it looks like we now know who is responsible for this:

OF COURSE this would be outside of MY window.

Me: Tell that motherfucker he has the wrong fucking window.

I live with a chola suspected of being a stalker... who has a misinformed stalker herself. Nice.
(I'm totally joking, obviously. But that random handprint really IS there. I don't know what the fuck is up with that)