When I was very young – maybe four or five – my parents bought me a drum set. The barrels were a shiny powder blue. There was a cymbal and a kick drum and in the center a perfectly pristine snare that snapped like a gunshot when I’d hit it. I spent hours pounding on those drums, oblivious to the fact that the skins were made of paper because I was lost in my imagination, pretending that the cacophonous beats I was hammering out were in perfect rhythm with Van Halen or The J. Geils Band or AC-Motherfuckin’-DC.
I liked to believe that the fact that I owned drums had propelled my life onto a certain trajectory – a path that would ultimately land me in a rock and roll band, playing shows in packed sports arenas and drinking Jack Daniels straight from the bottle and signing my autograph on chicks’ chests with a Sharpie. In my mind, I was destined to be a Rock Star, capital R, capital S. That little powder blue drum kit would take me to glory and fame and unfathomable riches.
My big sister didn’t share my enthusiasm for drumming. To her, it was noise. When I was playing, all she knew was that she couldn’t hear the television. She wished, I suppose, that I would simply go back to my quieter hobbies, like playing with my Lite Brite or taking the pants off of my Six Million Dollar Man doll to see if Steve Austin had a bionic ballsack to match that cool keypad in his forearm and the hole in the back of his head through which you could peer into his bionic eye. But I persevered. I was going to be a Rock Star, remember? And rock stars have to practice.
One night our parents went out with some friends and left Sparklesis and me with our favorite babysitter, Theresa. I had a major crush on Theresa and I thought I’d impress her by escorting her to the garage and serenading her on my drums. She accepted my invitation, and invited Sparklesis to follow us.
I banged-out an improvisational love song on the skins, looking up every now and then to see if Theresa was melting from the romantic lyrics I was making-up on the fly – “Oh, Thereeeeesa, you are so rad. When you babysit us, I am so glaaaaaad. Sometimes you make me want to screeeeeeam. Especially when you let us have ice creeeeeam.” And so forth.
When I was finished, I stood up, walked over to Theresa and gave her a big hug. I was smitten, and I had to assume that after my little love song, she was too. As I stood there rubbing my little parts against her leg, Sparklesis took it upon herself to sit down at the drums and begin pounding out her own song – about what a stupid little weenie her brother was and how Theresa would totally divorce me if she knew I still sucked my thumb. Whatever, I thought. She’s just jealous.
Suddenly, an odd sound came from the drums. Sounded like maybe the cymbal had fallen out of tune. I wheeled to look at the kit and saw evil in its purest form – Sparklesis has pierced the paper snare drum with a drum stick. She’d stabbed it. Killed it. Dead.
I was crestfallen. My future as a rock star evaporated into thin air, damning me to a career as a cubicle jockey. To this day, my eyes well-up when I think about what might have been.
Many years later, Sparklesis became a band geek. She started playing the flute, and when she wasn’t blaring shitty-ass Joni Mitchell tunes, she was tooting out poorly-rendered versions of typical high school marching band tunes – the school fight song, 25 or 6 to 4, and that one song about the halls of Montezuma and the shores of Tripoli. Whatever the selection, the sound was horrendous to me, much like my drumming had been for her I presume.
One day when she was at Clayton’s house, I decided to get a little payback. I snuck into her room, opened her flute case and took out the mouthpiece. I held it, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then I rubbed the smooth, cold, metallic finish up and down my bare right buttcheek like three or four times. Then I put it back into the case and left.
I never told Sparklesis about that.
(I presume this story is going to need to be countered by some serious love from y’all, so I now call to order this inaugural meeting of The Sparklesis Fan Club. All those who wish to be members, please say “aye.”) (Obviously, if you have something more interesting to say than “aye,” you can say that instead.) (But if you’re going to tell me that I should teach my butt to have more respect for flutes, if not the entire brass and woodwind sections, please just say “aye.”)
i can hear sparklesis' screams from here. i cannot wait to see the horrid things she says now that she knows this truth. after, of course, she finishes barfing.
Teehee. Better than what someone did At Band Camp.
Billygean
Somehow, I didn't guess butt cheek. I would have guessed ballsack.
Oh, and "Aye" by the way.
Well considering that germs persist and exist everywhere other than one's ass (any idea what lives on your hands?) - somehow perhaps she'll survive. Otherwise, Sparklesis will figure out as usual that her little bitty brother is bullshitting yet again (big surprise) and will ignore the issue altogether.
I have three words: Rock On Sparklesis!
DGM - this is totally your fault. You created a hero outta her and we all now bow at her feet. Talk about your irony here.
....a bionic ballsack? My jaw is still sitting on my desk.
Aye! I, too, have suffered the PITA called a little brother. I got your back Sparklesis!
"Aye!"
And I am anxious to hear what Sparklesis has to say.
of course DGM was (is) the Platonic ideal of the PITA little brother. Are you shocked? Yeah, I had the same crush on the babysitter. Yeah, he was always hogging all the attention. Again, shocked?
bro, I'm glad you're working all these issues out. I hope you can come to some closure and fuckin' GROW UP a little!
groupies, Maker's on the rocks and lots of snacks ready to go. we can talk about sparkletits and bionic ballsacks of anyone not related to us and ROCK ON!
And yet she said nothing about her mouthpiece touching a piece of something else. I'm so disappointed.
I was hoping for a cyber-chokehold or fiberoptic bitch slap. Alas, nothing.
No "aye" from me.
Having grown up with a sister that also played the flute, I would just like to say:
OMG I WISH I'D THOUGHT OF THAT!!!!!
Of course, if I'd ever been caught, I'd have been pummeled mercilessly, but it would have been worth it, I think.
Rock on, Dude!
WOW! Sparklesis is out of control...If I were you I would have rubbed my but hole on her flute not the cheek!!! I don't know Sparklesis that well but "AYE" - I have two older brothers and as far as I am concerned if I would have been smart enough to do the stuff she did I would have - Sparklesis is my HERO!
I can only guess that she is gargling with mouthwash for the third time today. AYE!!
AWESOME! All I have to say is: "For those about to rock...we salute you!"
I would have killed my little brother if I found out he ever did anything like that. Sparklesis, you have my sympathy! AYE!
Hi SparkleSis,
Just a few questions:
Did you ever act upon your lebian fantasies with the babysitter or anyone else? Did you like Clayton mainly because his multiple foreskins looked remarkably similar to the labias majora and/or minora? Was then angry penetration of DGM's drum skin some angry, repressed young lesbian's symbolic form of sexual expression? Have you ever seen Hot Wife naked? (If so, please discuss slowly, and in great detail.) Did you ever walk in on DGM pleasuring himself -- and, if so, was it the beginning of a really "special" type of love that dare not speak its name? Can you please get DGM to post a SparklePic - even if fully clothed? Are you familiar with the show Six Feet Under? Did the sexual tension between Brenda and Billy ever hit just a little too close to home?
P.S. Did you ever spank DGM?
It was the Marines Hymn...
oh yea "AYE"
Oh that is BAD! Bad as in just wrong!
The Karma on that one must have been far reaching...
Ok, I think SparkleGroupie is a little SparkleCreepy. Maybe you should go back to being Wondersis? This sparkle business is weirding me out!
I had/have a PITA of a little brother, too. I don't think I even want to know what kinds of stunts he pulled on me when we were kids(glad he doesn't have a blog!)
Ummm, aye, and I miss my lite bright. And fuck, now I'm wondering just what the hell my brother rubbed on my flute all those years.... Must now go us sterilizing mouthwash repeatedly and gag a bit. Gah.
You realize that you have to play the flute by placing the mouthpiece up to the "pucker" right?
To prior blogger:
I am NOT creepy! I am a HUMAN BEING!
PS... She rubs the lotion on her skin, or else she gets the flute again! Put the f_cking lotion in the basket! WonderSis!
Making note: tell daughters to lock up their flutes.
RUIT - define "pucker". ;)
I've heard of weirder things, but I'd been in band long enough to not be bothered anymore.
That said, aye. Wondersis, keep on keepin' on...
Just the buttcheek? Wow, you showed more retraint than I would have. I. am. Impressed.
ok, Uncle Mortie (aka sparklegroupie). We KNOW it's you. We told you not to answer the "male enhancement" spam you get on the WebTV we got you for Chanukah, last year. Now go take a cold shower and we'll see you in shul on Yom Kippur.
Dear WonderPottyMouth:
I've asked you several questions that remain unanswered. All you have done is falsely label me a blood relative of yours, thereby suggesting I'm some genuine incest-loving perv rather than a red-blooded-American-Blog-reader who simply likes to creep out others with silly incest fantasy humor.
Please answer my questions.
Quid pro quo, Clarice?
Do you still hear the lambs?
P.S. Cut the SuperJew guilt trips. My platter is already too full on Yom Kippur to add blogging sins to my list.
P.P.S. If you won't post a picture, just tell us what porn star you look like. You must be hot if you married a genius cancer doc.
P.P.S.S. DGM is a pig. He never would give you the time of day, let alone blog about you with loving nicknames, if you were a big fat beast.
Oh my. It was funnier when we thought Sparklegroupie was Uncle Mortie. I imagine Wondersis to look like Amber from Spiketv.com. SparkleGroupie, are you referencing Silence of the Lambs or Joe Dirt? How come you aren't a WondersisGroupie? Wondersis, Sparlklesis, what did you mean by having a crush on the babysitter?????????????
My little sister had a Care Bears drum set that my parents thought was a lovely way to say "Merry Christmas."
I've hated that holiday ever since.
Aye. Keep twinklin', Sparklesis. Even though it was a while ago, you still have permission to pummel the ever-loving crap out of DGM. It's in the Rules of Being a Big Sister. Right here in b&W.
Aye.
Amen.
Dude...that one song, about the Halls of Montezuma and the Shores of Tripoli? It's the Marine's Hymn. Sorry...I can't help it. I'm a dumb Jarhead. But the Marine has Band Geeks too...and some of them play the drums like nothing else!
Jenna
A note to Hannibal Lector/NotUncleMortie: Get a life.
(hmm. wonder if thats how you spell his last name)
Does it remotely disturb anyone that most of the readers here are women? As in, probably *very normal* women in real life - yet we all come here for some delicious insanity? Remarkable I say. Aye!
I like wondersis better than sparklesis..for what it's worth.
Was it just your ass cheek or dingleberries too?
You are brave. Not many a man would admit to having a flute in such close proximity to his bare ass.
Also, I didn't know that lightning bolt in the AC/DC logo stood for "motherfuckin'". Thanks for that, you lightning bolt.
Yeah, I think everyone kinda has a crush on their babysitter, if the babysitter is sweet and nice. I also think we crushingly normal/boring folks come here and get wacky and blow off some steam.
I think I learned the Marine Corps Hymn in second grade from my music teacher playing it on autoharp. I might even know all the verses!
Did anyone see the Penn and Teller Bullshit episode where they claimed that there are fewer germs on your butt cheeks then there are on your hands?
Oh, and "Aye" just because being your sister must have been... well... trying at times.
I think I'm in love with wondersis.
Hey, at least it was just the cheek. It could have been much worse.
I'm with Angie and S.J.: Just the butt cheek? I'm amazed that it was that tame. I have a PITA little brother too. I think all little brothers are meant to be like that. Even now that he's bigger than me, he's still a PITA, although now he's not allowed to beat me up so I can pick on him without the fear of retribution. Oh, and he lives like 400 miles away so I'd have lots of time to run even if he could beat me up.
A green bugger might have been a more effective and devastating move. As a fellow PITA, my battle plans were based on shock and awe factor 10.
Glitter/Wondersis -> be glad for your kinder, gentler bagel launcher bro. It could be way, way worse.
"Aye" - merely for the Jingle bell recording that you posted.
as of the original Pita little brothers, i can guarantee you that was lame compared to what little brothers can and have do/done. you have the original finger in warm water while they are sleeping(for over a year). you have the pinning down and giving noogies mercilessly. cutting their ponytail off and setting it on fire in front of them. having a dog stick it's rear to the face of the older sibling while they are sleeping... need i go on? little bros are like that becasue the get picked on just as mercilessly as if not worse than their older siblings ever did. btw, aye, and go sparklesis.
Is this one of those Urban Legends I've heard about? (Remember the Tahiti toothbrush tale? If not, be glad...)
Butt cheek? I SO thought you were going to say you pissed on it or swirled it in the toilet.
Pretty new reader, but I just have to say 'aye' to this one. I HAD a brother, and I still bear the emotional scars ;)
*hangs her bandgeek head*
I knew I loved sparklesis for a reason! I also played the flute, and I'm sure my PITA little brother also rubbed his genitals all over its mouthpiece. To this day, he will still lick the food on my plate while I'm not looking.
Oh and um, I only want to be a member of the Sparklesis Fan Club if that creepy incest guy is elected as our President.
I can't say Aye because I'm a little sister. I'm so with you DGM, being the youngest was the worst! And I don't want to hear it from any of ya!
I think Wondersis should be glad DGM didn't play the flute with his arse.
There was a guy on TV over here who could play all manner of musical instruments using extreme fart control.
Who knows DGM, if you had tried it that may have become you ticket to rock stardom...The arseblowing flute player...can't you just see that up in lights?
New to your site. I have an older brother whom I adore but continue to do things to him like stated above. When I was younger, my brother went to our grandmother's house in Michigan (we are in AZ). While he was away, i slowly flushed all of his prized GIJoes down the toilet. I also did the same to all the little Monopoly pieces. It's a running joke in my family now. Wondersis kicks ass!