Au contraire, mon frère

My little brother, le moyen Yssef, is universally acknowledged as the black sheep of my family (pay attention, all you casual friends & penpals ignorant about my life!).

But at his age, he's not only more successful than me in his career - youngest Hotel Director in the country - he's always been a hit with the ladies. He's engaged to a girl my mommy called a "monster." (My dad thinks both of us date cafards- cockroaches- because we're afraid of pretty girls. Maybe. See previous posts.)

He never listened to our advice and warnings; he would get insulted. He followed his own path. He's crazy, sexy, wild (like I always write in my profiles about myself). Insouciant charm. Garrulous and ebullient. He's not even as good-looking as me- he's a brunet! The bad Yssef.

But unlike me, he's happy. His fiancee is wildly imperfect but spunky (unlike my ideal dull-witted, big boobed "hot" dates). She cares about him and he accepts her as she is- modest background, troubled teeth, lack of height, career and sophistication, etc. He's touched by her. On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux. And he sees that. I can't see past big boobs or bad teeth.

He's so wrong! In a few years, he'll really regret not being married to a perfect girl. I'm gonna find my perfect girl, no matter what it takes. It's my destiny. in the meantime, I'll still take the Philippina hobbits and trolls, Vegas trailer trash, lame teenyboppers and big-boobed no-personality girls who throw themselves at me (gotta have sex at least twice a year, right?). I won't get serious with them but I'll annoy them with talk about my perfect girl. My destiny.

Back to the beginnng.