Today I am going to tell the story of how I thought maybe a man with unicorns was my brother.
The story ends with us being completely not related, so don’t get scared.
There is a happy ending, I promise.
But ewwwww . . . not that kind of happy ending. With a unicorn man? I am all creeped out that your minds would even go there.
Once upon a time, there was a giantly talented and famous blogger who was perhaps a tiny bit insane.
No, this part is not about me (although I am a giantly talented blogger who may be a tiny bit insane). This is a true story. With unicorns. And people, you can tell that this “Once upon a time” is not going to be a true story about me, because . . . hello? . . . I am so not fucking famous yet. Did I not tell you to focus?
OK, so once upon a time there was a giantly talented and famous blogger who was perhaps a tiny bit insane. She wrote a story about going fishing with her father that made me laugh so hard I actually fell out of my chair and rolled on the floor crying and laughing and snorting. And that? Just never happens to me. So I fell all swoony in love with this blogger, who I will give the alias of Allie.
And then, not long after I fell in love with Allie, she got all sad and depressed and posted about how she might need to take a mental health break from our relationship.
OK, why do people always say that to me? If they loved me? They would not need to take a mental health break from me.
But Allie needed a break. And because I loved her, I left a comment on her blog telling her that I loved her and that she should come check out the post where I mentioned her and expressed my undying love for her.
OK, and people? If you go back and check that post? You will see that I didn’t actually name Allie, because she is so gifted I figured everyone would stop reading my blog and head over to hers. And I wanted to keep my audience for myself and also keep Allie my special secret love.
Sometimes love works that way – all chokey and selfish.
OK, here is the good part!
A man named Ben saw my comment on Allie’s blog and came to visit mine. And he left a comment! I was all happy! A new reader!
And then I read his comment, which agreed that Allie was talented and suggested that I should do more to share her genius with the world.
What the fuck?
So I commented back, full of hatred and bitterness:
BEN — Ok, I have approved your comment, but you are pissing me off. Proper etiquette would suggest that you say at least one thing nice about me before you go all gaga over Allie. Geez.
And then? Even after I was all hateful? Ben came back!
This is when I first began to suspect that we were related. My family is filled with people who mistake abuse for candy.
And then I visited Ben’s blog, and I became convinced that he was one of my brothers.
Ben’s blog is like nothing I have ever seen. There is a meadow and there are unicorns. And there is a whiteboard. It is all fucking kinds of genius.
Other animals stop by to visit, and sometimes there are vacations to other lands . . . but basically? Ben’s blog is a meadow filled with unicorns. And there is a whiteboard.
My brothers are all fucked-up twisted geniuses, so obviously Ben was one of my brothers. (I got an A in my college Logic class, can you believe it?). Plus? My brothers are not so much about the use of regular methods of communication. They would so start a blog in order to have unicorns tell me to fuck off.
So I approached the unicorns with caution, in case they decided to use their pointy horns for evil.
I visited the Whiteboard Unicorns often, because they are adorable and delightful and sassy and innocent and incredibly addictive. Each time I visited? I was a teeny bit scared that this time would be the time that my brother Ben had the Unicorns re-enact pieces of my childhood that I wasn’t yet ready to share. Each time, I was a teeny bit afraid that this would be the time that one of the Unicorns turned from the white board and told me to fuck off for writing stuff about our family in Pretty All True.
But that never happened! Each time there were unicorns in a meadow. On a whiteboard.
Seriously, people? All kinds of fucking genius.
So I relaxed. I allowed myself to love Ben and his unicorns without fear.
And then Ben told me that he was going to give me an award.
I was immediately alert and terrified . . . Ben was going to rip his unicorn face off and reveal himself! People? I was all kinds of scared.
I went back to check the unicorns in case they were preparing a bonfire for the joyful sister sacrifice. But there were just happy innocent unicorns in a meadow. On a whiteboard. Genius, I tell you.
I was still worried. Those blogger awards generally come with strings, and I couldn’t even imagine what sort of crazy marionette dance of craziness my brother had devised to make me squirm.
It was hard to hold my bated breath for the next several days until the award arrived, but that’s what I did. I waited with bated breath to see what would happen next.
And then I got the award!
And it is the best award I have ever seen! Check it out:
And in the accompanying note? Ben said this:
You have received the Unicorn Rainbow award :) There are no catches. I just enjoy reading your blog!
Wait? No catches?
I just get an award? Because he likes me?
People? Ben is not family.
Which I am sure he will be relieved to hear.
And Ben’s blog? Unicorns in a meadow. On a whiteboard.
I am so proud to have gotten this award, I cannot even tell you. Especially now that it turns out to be all innocent and pure and lovely. Unicorns are like that.
See? A happy ending!
But not that sort – why must your minds always go to the unicorn porn?
This award is just a pure and heartfelt gesture of love and admiration.
Unless it contains a virus that crashes my blog and ruins the internet for all of you.
In which case?