Dear Little Brother,
You obviously didn't get my first post, so I thought that, since we spent all those years under the same roof and look pretty much like twins, I could give this a second shot.
On second thought, fuck that. Sly B and I plan to care about mom and dad and enjoy them while we all still have time for things like enjoying each other. Keep on pretending like I don't exist. When your girls are grown and run away from the Bible thump, we've got spare beds and their tattoo funds grow monthly with interest.
Also, if you sent the evangelists over to our house, don't ever do anything like that again. I don't need them knowing my name, and I especially don't need them knowing my address.
What I said last week still stands: I love you. When you yank your bald head out of your ass, you know how to find me. Until then, leave us alone okay?