Let’s get one thing straight: you better be careful when talking about my cunt of a sister, Lindsay.
Sure, Lindsay might be annoying most of the time and I will never stop incessantly complaining about her, but she’s my sister, so you better respect that. No matter how many times she steals my clothes or eats my Ben and Jerry’s or pukes in your shower, Lindsay will always be my big sister, so back off.
I love Lindsay. Sure, that alcoholic bitch may have hit my dog driving home from that party last year and then lied to the police about seeing a black guy do it, but that doesn’t mean you can treat that piece of garbage like trash.
Who cares if that skank blamed me when my parents found her cocaine stash and then helped them plan an intervention for me: Just because she deserves to rot in Hell for eternity doesn’t mean you can say that about her. She’s still my sister.
In your defense, yes, sleeping with my ex-boyfriend Josh on New Years Eve after she found out he was planning to propose to me was the slimiest whore-move imaginable and it created an irreparable chasm of despair in my heart, but step off. Lindsay is my sister and I’ll have her back forever.
Cutting off chunks of my hair while I was sleeping may have been childish, immature, and physically scarring (since she stabbed my ear in the process), but where do you get off calling people names, huh? Blood is thicker than water.
And while saving those pictures of naked little boys on my computer and then reporting me to the police, thus dashing my dreams of being a schoolteacher, all because I borrowed her hairdryer, may have been inexcusable even for my crusty tampon of a sister, I still get offended when you call her a melodramatic sociopath cunt, because if I don’t look out for her, how can I expect her to look out for me?
I didn’t get to choose my herpy-mouthed sister, but dammit if I’m still not proud of her for who she is. Maybe calling in bomb threats to random airports for laughs is terrorism, but she’s my terrorist, so watch your mouth.
So the next time you have something to say Lindsay, just remember:
Back. The. Fuck. Up.
Or you’ll have to deal with me, because that arsonist cunt is my sister.
