BRO: Ahhh! The backyard of my formative years.
We are originally from a country that borders Brazil and shares a minute portion of the Amazon, but we lived nowhere near it.
ME: Ummmmm...So you grew up in the Amazon basin? Where the fuck was I?
BRO: I don't want to get caught up in the adoption drama. Ask mom of your whereabouts.
ME: Oh, I will! So you lived off the land with the Amerindians? Do you even know how to start a fire?
BRO: I would rather not get into it. I could start a fire with my bare hands. My native name is "Redda fire".
ME: It's probably because your hands are dry and ashy. It's as if turds are flying out of your mouth.
BRO: My hands convey manliness, while at the same time, worthy of a dove.
ME: Words escape me... So, you were a fire starting hunter as a toddler? Perhaps we should go back to the Amazon basin and relive your formative years. There is another one at 10 if you're interested in watching.
BRO: I was a prodigy of sorts. I would love to retrace my formative years. What channel?
ME: It's quite easy to return to a vivid imagination. Channel 250.
BRO: Nice jaguar.
ME: Yes indeed. We are kindred spirits.
BRO: Yeah, OK.
ME: Actually I think I maybe closer to the sloth. Slow moving, they hide in the trees and come down once a week to defecate.
BRO: Really, once a week? You defecate 3 times daily. Are we really going to see sloths shagging?
ME: Ewwwwwwwww. That must take like 12 hrs.
BRO: It must. I have some fond memories of the Amazon delta.
ME: Wow. Do those include shooting poisonous blow darts at howler monkeys and then eating their brains?
BRO: I never partook in the eating of monkey meat.
ME: Because you were never there!