Jul 05, 2006 21:57
This is going to be a real goober cheesey entry, so if you barf at cheeseyness, stop reading.
I'm not like particularly close with my family. Well, me and mom are kind of close but not really, you know? Anyway, tonight my brother Luke called me from camp. He's at that insane music camp Interlocken in Michigan, which is apparently a Nazi concentration camp where they torture children until they become brilliant musician/painter/dancers. Luke thought it was going to be really cool, but it's actually run by several clones of Hitler. Anyway, when I saw him in june, I told him if all the weirdos were really obnoxious and he needed an escape, to call me cause I'm only a few hours away. So he called and now I'm devising a plan to rescue him if only for a day or two. Poor kid. He does't ever complain about anything like ever. It must be bad. But anyway, I felt all warm and fuzzy that he actually called. We don't really talk all that often, so I'm totally going to bust him out of nazi band camp. Now to wrangle up vehicles... we'll see. I assured him we would show up in cammo and probably a tank.