The Saga of the Selfish Brother

The title kind of gives it away, doesn’t it? Well, Master Berserker has returned home after his ridiculous three month hopping around friends’ houses. You may think that this is because he is hard done by and that he perhaps does not deserve the words in the title of this entry…

But if you have read any of my previous entries concerning Master Berserker, then you will understand exactly why it thus called.

Here you can see evidence of a less stressed me shortly before Master Berserker returned home. Why, you may ask, would I be stressed and agitated by the return of my younger brother? Well, I’m just getting to that…
Firstly, Master Berserker only decided that he wanted to come home shortly after he found out that it would cost £80 to repair his moped. Now, there’s only so much money you can scam off your friends and your friends’ parents and I don’t think he could have managed £80 with his ‘I’m so hard done by and nobody loves me but look at my swishy hair, expensive ipod and phone, and the contact lenses still paid for by my parents’.

If you remember, he has also told everyone that he was thrown out and told not to come back.

I’m pretty sure that if he was thrown out etc then he wouldn’t be here right now stressing me out and clogging up the house.

So, the day after he finds out the charge for his moped he comes back home (the moped is unfixable btw so there was no charge in the end, but the principle is still the same). You may say I’m being uncharitable as he has no money… Well, he started working and he has a better wage than me, so there you go. Shortly before this he’d also called R something that I find unforgivable and I’m pretty sure everyone else does too. I won’t type the word, but if you know the phrase ‘see you next Tuesday’, then you will understand my further irritation.
Master Berserker moved his stuff in, anyway. He’s in my old room because there is no way I am giving up this room.

I set out a list of rules in the bathroom because I knew that that would be the first place to be destroyed. These rules are not ridiculous… but already he has broken most of them. This is what has happened to the bathroom:

  • Blood on my white towel from squeezing his spots – [He has been instructed to wash this towel and it has been left over three days and the blood has now dried on it. I refuse to wash it out of principle.]
  • Toilet has been left with seat up and not flushed so that his urine ferments in it – [Totally disgusting and it makes me feel ill every time I find it like that.]
  • He continues to spray enough deodorant to singlehandedly destroy the ozone layer – [Not an exaggeration and no he has no BO problems. He just has a vanity problem that causes him to spray so much deodorant that it seeps into my room through the cracks in my door frame and is still so thick that it burns my throat because I have no choice but to breathe it in.]
  • Water all over the floor, bathroom surfaces and the toilet seat from him having a shower – [All thoroughly unnecessary.]
  • Using products bought by me for me with my limited amount of money – [Speaks for itself.]
  • Dirty boxer shorts lying across the floor.
  • Used tissues lying across the floor.

But it’s not just the bathroom stuff that is stressing me out. Here’s a list of a couple more things that make me want to destroy him:

  • Making my stressed mum late for work because he hadn’t finished doing his hair.
  • Teasing the dogs with items and therefore making them want to steal and chew these items.
  • Trying to scam money my mother doesn’t have off her.
  • Leaving hair straighteners turned on and plugged in with the wire trailing across the floor right next to where the dogs were.
  • Yelling at me because my opinion doesn’t count and it was supposedly the reason why he left, when I told him to wear his glasses instead of doing an all-nighter just because he didn’t have another pair of contact lenses to wear the next day – [Because he’s vain, he refused to wear his glasses at work in a call centre where nobody will see him.]
  • Playing music extremely loudly in a morning so that you can’t hear yourself think.
  • And basically coming back and treating everybody with the same sh*tty attitude he did before and expecting that the world revolves around him.

So if you can’t see why the first picture has now been replaced by this one, then either you’re a far more tolerant person than I am or you just have no idea how stressful he is making my life. Typically, I carry all my stress in my shoulders and back. You have no idea how much they are burning and hurting right now just because all of the muscles are tense with stress.

Other than that, I’ve had nightmares this past week and started up again with dreams of being chased. I hadn’t had any dreams of being chased since he left home three months ago. Now they’re back. I even had a dream, the other night, that I was trying to disarm a bomb and I couldn’t so I was crying down my ear piece to the bomb squad people, who couldn’t help, telling them to tell certain people how much I cared because I only had about six seconds to live.

Anyway, I hope those of you reading this are having a much less stressful time than I am.

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