My Blood Brother & Tobacco Products

   
   "My Blood Brother & Tobacco Products"
   
   I had a dream last night that smoking organic tobacco was killing me, so I woke up, and I lit another lung dart.  Good for me, you schmucks.  
   And cease with getting into my brother's ear.  He's my damn brother!  We're blood--you are not!  He doesn't give a damn about your accomplishments and pseudo-accolades.  His family of foreign cars is worth more than all of your confederate money combined--you Bush League Barney Fifes.  He's a crooked officer of the court, and your son couldn't get laid in a morgue with his pumpkin head.  Carve it out and put a candle in there; next, the drunk may have some brains.
   How dare you come into my mother's house and drink JACK DANIELS @ 21 years of stupidity; then, tell me you're educated.  You're a shyster--you don't even know Yiddish, you freaking redskin, and I love the American Indian--he'll shove an angry arrow up your pretentious pre-pubescent ass.
   My brother is my adversary.  Only I can kick his ass--nobody else.  He's my blood.  Don't mess around where you are not wanted.  You think he gives a damn about you?  He wants to smack me, and I want to smack him--stay out of it.  It's our business.  We're Rh mutants, and you're monkey-blooded simians, sinister to boot.
   He's my brother, not your husband.  He's got a Yankee heritage.  Grant kicked your Daddy's ass, and Sherman burned it to hell and back.  Remember Southern Man, and I respect your statues and flag, but when you look up--you're looking to the North.