Associated Press

Eli says he’s going to move out. He says I’m mean to him and I fart too much. High five! But that homo won’t move out. I might be a Momma’s boy, but he’s a Big Brother’s Boy. I’ve seen him smile when I smack him; he likes pain, the little nerdbomb. He likes it when I shove his face in fresh goat piss.

He says he needs to move out because he needs to get away from my shadow so he can become a championship quarterback, just like me. He says his coaches are telling him that if he wants to keep on winning this year he needs to get far away from me and even from Momma and Daddy and just be himself. He needs to be his own person – haha! – so he can face me in the Super Bowl – hahahaha!

He told me this at bedtime. I had come in to check on him like I always do, and when he said it, I listened, and then I sat on his face and farted. We were cracking up because it really stunk. At least I was laughing, and when I left I thought I heard him laughing under his pillow, but he might have been crying. The little doo-doo head.

That kid isn’t going to the Super Bowl, unless he’s carrying my bags for me. And if he tells Cooper any of this, I’m going to frog his throwing arm.