This weekend I received a text message from an unknown phone number. The following is a transcription of the textation that followed.
The Unknown, (571) xxx-xxxx: This is your brother’s new number FYI
KristyWes, (617) xxx-xxxx: How do I know that you are who you say you are?
(571) xxx-xxxx: Considering I never said who this is you can’t.
(617) xxx-xxxx: Uncle Stan?
(571) xxx-xxxx: You have no Uncle Stan
(617) xxx-xxxx: Aha! You called my bluff! It is Honkey Chateau!
(571) xxx-xxxx: It is I, the most honkey of all chateaus
[Editor's Note: A few Christmases before the Honkey Chateau incident, my bro visited me in Boston and while making our rounds to several holiday parties, he somehow came by the alias "Reggie."]
(617) xxx-xxxx: No way!! Funny that you should say that b/c I JUST got a card in the mail from Jolene, my Boston friend who called you Reggie. JUST now.
(571) xxx-xxxx: Me and her talk all the time.
(617) xxx-xxxx: Stop messing with me.
(571) xxx-xxxx: Never! Me and Jolene are b.f.f.
(617) xxx-xxxx: Did she tell you about James?
(571) xxx-xxxx: That ruffian
(617) xxx-xxxx: Aha! There is no James! I’ve caught you in a lie and exposed the true ruffian. (You)
(571) xxx-xxxx: I thought we were talking about James Buchanan, our worst president. Me and Jolene speak often of his administration
(617) xxx-xxxx: Dammit. Thought I had you. I guess you speak the truth. Although in my opinion, Polk was the worst prez by far.
(571) xxx-xxxx: James K. Polk was an American hero.
(617) xxx-xxxx: Agree to disagree.
(571) xxx-xxxx: No. You are wrong.
(617) xxx-xxxx: DID YOU JUST CALL ME FAT?!?
(571) xxx-xxxx: No, just ignorant of presidential legacies.
(617) xxx-xxxx: I can name all the presidents in order. Ignorant? I think not.
My brother (aka Honkey Chateau, aka Reggie) then proceeded to switch technologies and up the ante by joining a James K. Polk fan club on Facebook. Not to be outdone, I swiftly found a James Buchanan FB group to join.
Things are getting ugly, folks. Our sibling bickering could quickly escalate into an all-out civil war.
OR - we could succumb to our shared genetic wiring and not finish things that we start. Like wars. Books. Careers. Blog entries. Police Academy movie marathons. Etcetera.
It's anyone's guess what happens next. One thing I do know, for certain: James Buchanan rules all.