Outbursts From My Sister.
But I also know when to sit back.
Sister is in a foul temper. She is given to irrational rages at the slightest incident. I don't know where she gets it from.
We are in her van. She grinds the gears as much as her teeth.
Sister: FUCKS SAKE. I need some cocking petrol now.
Me: Em. Diesel?
Sister: Shit. SHIT. That would have been spot-on. Petrol in a diesel van. That would have been perfect. That would have been just fucking right if I'd done that. That would've been great. It would've been perfect. It would've fucking fucked fucking everything.
Me: It hasn't actually happened.
My sister appears to be hyper-ventilating.
Sister: It could have.
It seems she is furious at the very possibility.
We pull into a petrol station. My sister jumps out of the van, forgetting that her bag is on her lap and is wide open.
Bag and unusual contents (secateurs, lip-gloss, twine, nail polish, a screwdriver and insect-repellant) spill dramatically across the forecourt.
I am entranced by the bulging arteries and veins that appear about to burst.
There comes a strange roaring noise from my sister. I think it is directed at her bag but I can't be sure.
Sister: Oh you fucking SHITWHORE.
Re-fuelling completed, we continue on our way.
Me: Really though. 'Shitwhore'?
Sister: I know. It just came out of nowhere.
Me: It was very good.
Sister: Thanks bro.