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The Special Issue

Hell Is for Sisters

This one goes out to all the sisters who grew up with brothers.

Photo by Tobin Yelland.

This one goes out to all the sisters who grew up with brothers. Wait, I don’t mean black women who grew up with black men. I mean women who grew up with male siblings. No offense: only-children and girls with just sisters, but y’all are soft. You don’t get guys. Wait, I don’t mean you’re lonely and can’t attract a man. I mean “don’t get” as in “don’t understand.” Ha!

Within the “girls with brothers” category, the best bitches are the ones with older brothers. We are the queens. We rent pornos and eat in front of the TV and are basically over all the bullshit most women worry about. Can you imagine us buying the People magazine special on weddings? Do we give a shit when Cosmo tries to tell us what men really want? Fuck, no. We know what men want. They want to go do stuff and then come back and sit around. They want to listen to the Minutemen and say things in burp. So do we. We like to fight, too. Not like a butch lesbian with a double dong of politics up her ass, but like a real lady. You should see me fight. It’s more feminine than Audrey Hepburn. Some fist comes at me and I move my head away like Pat Benatar in the video for “Love Is a Battlefield.” Swoosh! (Hair goes across my face from the momentum). My whole fighting stance is based on that video. A knife comes at me and I force it to the floor while snapping my fingers in the guy’s face. Then I’ll fuckin’ throw my drink at him and wiggle my shoulders so my boobies are all up in his shit sarcastically. Then my girls will back me up with the same move, and we’ll dance our way out the bar going, “WE ARE YOUNG!!!” Then we’ll all shake hands outside in that “bro” way even though we’re in tight dresses and heels.

Sister girls can’t fuck with that (no offense).