Apparently My Little Brother has Never Seen “Point Break”. How Do You Address a Situation Like That?

He is too old and too big to challenge to a fight over it.  I guess I could attack him with a baseball bat or a wrench or a sock filled with marbles or something.  Mostly I’m just sick to my stomach.  Obviously I failed as an older brother and mentor.  How did a kid who grew up in Central Ohio as, and remains so, a huge Ohio State Buckeyes fan…not know that former OSU quarterback Johnny Utah joined the FBI and broke up a surfing brotherhood who also robbed banks?  I mean the fucking guy beat SC in the Rose Bowl for Christ’s sake.  Where the fuck you been bro?!?!?!?!  I’d almost rather he was a 27 year old virgin than a 27 year old who has never even heard of Point Break.  Don’t say that shit out loud dude, fucking embarrassing.  If anyone talks about it, just memorize a line and pretend you know what you are talking about.  Someone says, “When was the last time you saw Point Break?”, just respond, “If you want the ultimate, you’ve got to be willing to pay the ultimate price”.  No one will question you.   

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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5 Responses to Apparently My Little Brother has Never Seen “Point Break”. How Do You Address a Situation Like That?

  1. Anonymous says:

    Your brother is clearly a freedom hating fucking commie. This angers me in ways I cannot express over the Internet.
    -JP

  2. Zachary Giles says:

    Right there with you JP. Need to code red that fucker, stat. The audacity. May as well try out for second horn in Ambassadors of Funk.

  3. Anonymous says:

    He is lucky he does not live in one of the countries where custom demands you “restore the family's honor”.

    NP

  4. I considered that possibility NP. Like a drive out into the desert with a couple of AK47s and one shovel.

  5. Anonymous says:

    I bet that little fucker has never seen Red Dawn either. After reading this he strikes me as the kind of guy who would cheer for the Ruskies. Or play second horn in The Ambassadors…
    -JP

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