Hurricane Andrew

So it's 3am and I just got home from an awesome evening with Casey, Charli and Chris. Was a bit of a slow start to the night, but a couple of drinks in and things got much more fun. It's probably a little sad that the 3 of us ended up spending a Saturday night at home playing Monopoly at our age, but it's honestly been the best night I've had in quite a while.

And then I got home...
It would appear Hurricane Andrew has taken up temporary residence in the house once more. This time with a guest... his drug fucked 'girlfriend' who's initial conversation with me today after I pointed out how tired she looked was to explain that she hadn't slept for the last two days, but that it wasn't her fault because her friends dragged her out clubbing. She then went on to explain about the awesome gay club she'd been to and how good the drugs were that she'd had (I've met this girl all of 3 times now) -one of which, she was trying to pick me up!

I come home to all the lights on in the house, DVDs spread from one side of the lounge room to the other, empty bottles all over the place inside and a trashed bathroom (complete with one bath full of water that has turned a rather odd shade of grey). Not to mention the mess he's made of the kitchen.
What pisses me off most about this? The fact that he'll leave it all for Mum to clean up when she gets home (she's in Melb visiting my sister tonight).
Oh that and the fact that he helped himself to the $100 bottle of Scotch that I bought for Mum at Christmas last year.

He's such a selfish and ignorant little turd! Every week Mum busts her arse to make a shitload of food for him to take home to Melbourne. She feeds his dog and pays for it all out of her own pocket, she gives him money whenever he wants and puts up with the torrent of abuse that follows if he doesn't get his own way.
The boy respects only himself and it infuriates me to no end.

Take last night for example, he knows I work on Fridays and Saturdays and if he needs me to just send me a text unless its urgent. So right in the middle of service (I was plating up food at the time) he rings me, so I answer thinking the worst. His emergency? To make sure I knew I was sleeping on the couch tonight because he was coming home. Had I not have been so busy at the time (and balancing a phone on my shoulder while dealing with food service) I would've gone off my nut at him. Instead I hung up after snapping at him, soon after I receive a rather abusive text message from him for hanging up on him.

I apologise dear readers for this rant, but I was so furious when I got home that I needed to get it out. I've already had a partial screaming match with him that ended with him threatening to kick the shit out of me (he's not good with words and prefers his fists to do the talking) -I'm almost tempted to take up Martial Arts again for that inevitable moment where he finally takes a swing. God I'd love to see his face when he was dropped to the ground by me. The pathetic weakling fag of a brother who chooses to be a pacifist.
-Yeah, I'm that angry right now... I'd honestly throw aside everything I believe in just to throw one punch to knock him clear off his feet.

Normally, I'd even try to turn this into a positive. To find something good about him that I like. But other than the fact that we share the same parents, there is not a single redeeming attribute about him.
I can't even say he'd be there for me when I needed him most...

This was supposed to be a happy post. There's so much I need to say about moving, Mr J and everything else thats happened of late. Maybe I'll get time tomorrow after work!