Like much of my family’s communication, the way my brother and I talk is largely fucked-up. In this instance, and many of the interactions with my brother, it’s more comical than anything else. I’m talking about when he was trying to explain the name of this car to me. Originally I think he said it was a Malibu, but then he switched jokingly to the ‘Malibooty’ so that’s what I’m calling it. It’s the same old nonsensical gab we have from time to time, like when we text about football. Anyway, here it is – the Malibooty – in all its green glory – with a backdrop of butter.
