RANT!!! MY "BABY" BROTHER IS HOME, I'M NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS.

Flyboy

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please excuse yourself, it's the scots that can't hold their drink and get themselves into a tizzy about things. us irish would bear it all with good grace and humour, probably get a decent song out of it too.
as for the OP's problem, i can heartily recommend rohypnol for your problematic little brother.
/s/
Not wise to brag about anything, especially about holding yer drink, but you go right ahead.
 

Fiesta Red

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My older brother and I don’t get on well.
I’ve cured our conflict(s) by politely but firmly staying away from—and refusing to associate with—him, much to my parents dismay.
I told my mother and father, “Just because of some weird quirk of genetics and poor timing on your part, I’m kin to him. That doesn’t mean I owe him a single thing, other than being polite and not arguing with him…but since he and his cow bruja wife refuse to allow me to be polite and not argue with him, I will keep my distance…you raised him, he’s your problem. I’ll be there for you when you need me.”

He’s a well-noted expert on everything (just ask him! Or don’t ask him and he’ll tell you anyway!) and knows how everyone should think, act, speak, dress, eat, walk and fart. He probably perfected the proper way that everyone should urinate, but somehow it hasn’t come up in the 50+ years I’ve known him.

His malicious, mendacious wife stirs things up and makes it even worse.

His abuse of alcohol severely aggravates the situation…I know he’s been using and abusing alcohol for 45 or so years. The last two times I spoke to him, I wondered if he was ok. He wasn’t making sense—and I don’t mean “drunk nonsense”; I mean, “early onset dementia related to alcohol abuse” nonsense. Several of our mutual friends and acquaintances have noticed, too…they’ve politely broached the subject by saying, “Hey, is ___ ok? He seemed a little, umm, confused the last time I spoke to him…and he doesn’t look good…” I usually tell them to ask him directly, which closes the subject immediately. He’s always been extremely handsome, but the last couple of years, he looks bad…not, “well, he’s getting older” bad, but rather, “are you sick and what can I do to help you?” bad…a lot of that seems to be related to alcohol abuse.

For the past eight years or so, the main issue he focuses on is our parents estate, and making sure he gets what he wants…(mind you, my parents are still active, alive and in fairly good health—mild dementia in my father and rheumatoid arthritis in my mother not withstanding), but when I’ve taken the chance and spoken to my brother, he keeps telling me how much he is owed and how he is owed more because he has three children and I only have one…and how he’s lost a lot of money “trying to help the family” (read: “get rich quick schemes that you [Fiesta Red] refuse to invest in and that’s why they didn’t succeed”) and how I’m a tightwad (I’m not, I am just blessed with a financially smart wife and a less-risky attitude toward money—he’s probably made and lost five times what I’ve made in our lives, but I never lost homes or had multiple cars repossessed or declared bankruptcy [at least twice] because I live within my means…plus, he has no idea what volunteer work I do or how much I give to charity, directly or indirectly—because I don’t let my right hand know what my left hand is doing—unlike him, who stands atop a barn and crows it to the world how wonderful and generous he is).

The last conversation we had—over two years ago—quickly devolved into a list of all the things that have gone wrong in his life since the spring of 1970 (when I was born)…and it seemed that most of those things were related to me not following his instructions. I sat and listened for about 10 minutes, and finally drained my Topo Chico, stood up and walked away. He started railing and screaming at me that I “owe him” and our parents “owe him even more” for something or other. I went home and sat in the back yard for an hour or two, playing my acoustic and petting my dog (who was over 17 years old and in his last days). I didn’t know what else to do.

What a sad, sad man.
 
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Kandinskyesque

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please excuse yourself, it's the scots that can't hold their drink and get themselves into a tizzy about things. us irish would bear it all with good grace and humour, probably get a decent song out of it too.
as for the OP's problem, i can heartily recommend rohypnol for your problematic little brother.
/s/
Technically we're "Plastics"; my siblings and I jumped at the Foreign Birth Register opportunity in 2016 when the EU vote happened.
My auld fella had been nagging us all to get that done for years beforehand.

I believe my brother has access to the three passports now, maybe once the roofies kick in I could drive him down to Holyhead.;)
 

57joonya

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That usually won't help, they're all very sorry, very ashamed, very repentant and surprisingly often actually very sincere.

Then they get drunk again..
This is true , I know because that’s how I was . U feel terrible for bad behavior etc, then u go right back . You think You can just have a few drinks and be fine , and then get carried away again. It all goes out the window . I finally got it right and gave up the drinking a year and a half ago at 46. Wish I had ten yrs sooner . Hopefully your brother will want to show people a better side to him this time . Maybe pull him aside and have a chat about it. But then again if he was already tanked the first night there , it doesn’t sound like he’s looking to change
 

Kandinskyesque

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I finally got it right and gave up the drinking a year and a half ago at 46.
Well done man.
I gave up a few months short of my 46th birthday, I'll be 10 years this November (God willing).

Turning 50 sober was so much better and with less trepidation about getting older than turning 30 or 40.
I was thrown out of the spa at Gleneagles on the morning of my 40th birthday because the stench of the previous night's drinking was coming out of my pores.

It's great to be free of the tyrant no matter what else happens, I just wish my younger brother could see that before it's too late. He's already one kidney down.
 

Flaneur

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1660141349134.png


I believe the preferred nomenclature is....

bleezin' :D
 

Flyboy

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Technically we're "Plastics"; my siblings and I jumped at the Foreign Birth Register opportunity in 2016 when the EU vote happened.
My auld fella had been nagging us all to get that done for years beforehand.

I believe my brother has access to the three passports now, maybe once the roofies kick in I could drive him down to Holyhead.;)
Dump him at Cairnryan.
 

ChazFromCali

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I really have nothing to add..... except that its always amazed me how in the UK situations can go from seemingly pleasant to throwing punches in what seems like mere seconds.

In particular I'll always remember a wedding I went to in Corby, Northhamptonshire while I was in the U.S.A.F. in 1980. An buddy of mine (American) was marrying an Irish girl with four brothers. One of them said something an Englishman present didn't like, the bloke replied, the bro' threw a haymaker and bedlam ensued. It was like something out of a movie, chairs flying, glass breaking, paddy-wagon, etc. Myself and another buddy I went with avoided jail but it was a cultural lesson to me. Hmm, that deteriorated quickly, lol.
 

Kandinskyesque

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I really have nothing to add..... except that its always amazed me how in the UK situations can go from seemingly pleasant to throwing punches in what seems like mere seconds.

In particular I'll always remember a wedding I went to in Corby, Northhamptonshire while I was in the U.S.A.F. in 1980. An buddy of mine (American) was marrying an Irish girl with four brothers. One of them said something an Englishman present didn't like, the bloke replied, the bro' threw a haymaker and bedlam ensued. It was like something out of a movie, chairs flying, glass breaking, paddy-wagon, etc. Myself and another buddy I went with avoided jail but it was a cultural lesson to me. Hmm, that deteriorated quickly, lol.
Corby aka "Little Glasgow" is a place I've never been to.
Apparently full of the descendants of Glasgow steelworkers from Scotland who migrated there to work in the steel mills.

That might explain the source the Irish/English altercation if it was back in 1980.

I'm merely speculating as to what might have started the altercation but at that time in Glasgow and the west of Scotland (and for decades prior) there were pretty nasty divides between fans of the two football (soccer) teams. There's a lot of opposing cultural and Irish political views woven into the identities of both sets of fans but that's mainly a thing of the past.

Sadly there are still a few dinosaurs determined to keep that horrible nonsense alive.

I've saw quite a few weddings end up like that from the other side of the mic stand.
A function band I played in played "The Eye of the Tiger" a few times after it had all calmed down as a humorous attempt to break the residual tension in the atmosphere.

Usually it worked.
 

tubedude

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All 6' 5" 280lbs of my brother arrived on Saturday. He's here for a month.

He flew in from Sydney to Edinburgh the long way because it was cheaper (Sydney-Arizona-NYC-Edinburgh). He got delayed for 36 hours in NYC so he was properly 'pickled' when he arrived and I'll be surprised to see him anything less than 'paralytic' while he's here.
(Background: in Scotland we have more words for drunk than the Innuit have for snow).

The last time he was here 3 years ago for my auld fella's 80th he left utter chaos. A major fisticuffs at my auld fella's party after my brother dropped my eldest grand-daughter on her head.
Miraculously I didn't get involved; I was too busy making sure my daughter and grand kid were all right; however, the incident lit the touch paper for all the other siblings and partners to air their frustrations with him and each other, resulting in the church hall became like a scene from "The Quiet Man".

I'm as angry (still) with certain people for using that situation for their own ends.

I'll do my best to avoid him while he's here but there are some unavoidable situations where I'll have to see him.

My daughter has decided to have all 4 of her kids Baptised in the Catholic Church in few weeks time. We have organised a party afterwards in the church hall and had no idea at the time that my brother was going to be in Scotland.

Not inviting him isn't possible; there are certain people in our very large family who find my loud, opinionated. obnoxious, 24/7 drunk brother endearing and this will cause major rifts that my daughter can do without because she lives next to the majority of the family.

No doubt having a talk with my brother before the event will be something I'll have to do. However, on the evidence of me already repeatedly telling him to no avail that phoning me when he's 'three sheets' is unacceptable, I have no doubt whatsoever any talk I have with him will not be well received.
It's highly possible, I'll have to convey my message in a language he understands.

I'm getting too old for this man child sibling.

Rant over.
The ferry option is attractive. That or assign a distant family member to keep the peace with authority to use a taser.
 

MickM

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My older brother and I don’t get on well.
I’ve cured our conflict(s) by politely but firmly staying away from—and refusing to associate with—him, much to my parents dismay.
I told my mother and father, “Just because of some weird quirk of genetics and poor timing on your part, I’m kin to him. That doesn’t mean I owe him a single thing, other than being polite and not arguing with him…but since he and his cow bruja wife refuse to allow me to be polite and not argue with him, I will keep my distance…you raised him, he’s your problem. I’ll be there for you when you need me.”

He’s a well-noted expert on everything (just ask him! Or don’t ask him and he’ll tell you anyway!) and knows how everyone should think, act, speak, dress, eat, walk and fart. He probably perfected the proper way that everyone should urinate, but somehow it hasn’t come up in the 50+ years I’ve known him.

His malicious, mendacious wife stirs things up and makes it even worse.

His abuse of alcohol severely aggravates the situation…I know he’s been using and abusing alcohol for 45 or so years. The last two times I spoke to him, I wondered if he was ok. He wasn’t making sense—and I don’t mean “drunk nonsense”; I mean, “early onset dementia related to alcohol abuse” nonsense. Several of our mutual friends and acquaintances have noticed, too…they’ve politely broached the subject by saying, “Hey, is ___ ok? He seemed a little, umm, confused the last time I spoke to him…and he doesn’t look good…” I usually tell them to ask him directly, which closes the subject immediately. He’s always been extremely handsome, but the last couple of years, he looks bad…not, “well, he’s getting older” bad, but rather, “are you sick and what can I do to help you?” bad…a lot of that seems to be related to alcohol abuse.

For the past eight years or so, the main issue he focuses on is our parents estate, and making sure he gets what he wants…(mind you, my parents are still active, alive and in fairly good health—mild dementia in my father and rheumatoid arthritis in my mother not withstanding), but when I’ve taken the chance and spoken to my brother, he keeps telling me how much he is owed and how he is owed more because he has three children and I only have one…and how he’s lost a lot of money “trying to help the family” (read: “get rich quick schemes that you [Fiesta Red] refuse to invest in and that’s why they didn’t succeed”) and how I’m a tightwad (I’m not, I am just blessed with a financially smart wife and a less-risky attitude toward money—he’s probably made and lost five times what I’ve made in our lives, but I never lost homes or had multiple cars repossessed or declared bankruptcy [at least twice] because I live within my means…plus, he has no idea what volunteer work I do or how much I give to charity, directly or indirectly—because I don’t let my right hand know what my left hand is doing—unlike him, who stands atop a barn and crows it to the world how wonderful and generous he is).

The last conversation we had—over two years ago—quickly devolved into a list of all the things that have gone wrong in his life since the spring of 1970 (when I was born)…and it seemed that most of those things were related to me not following his instructions. I sat and listened for about 10 minutes, and finally drained my Topo Chico, stood up and walked away. He started railing and screaming at me that I “owe him” and our parents “owe him even more” for something or other. I went home and sat in the back yard for an hour or two, playing my acoustic and petting my dog (who was over 17 years old and in his last days). I didn’t know what else to do.

What a sad, sad man.
Sorry about you having a brother like you describe. It sounds like he looks at your parents more like a bank account that he's waiting to drain than the loving people that raised him.
 

Flyboy

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The ferry option is attractive. That or assign a distant family member to keep the peace with authority to use a taser.
Tasers are illegal here. Scots use the nut.

Anyway, I am an only child but have many cousins. The older generations harbour grievances and they often come out at the next generation's celebrations.

I had one uncle hijack my speech when I was married for a second time. The same family member who had it in for an Ex of mine cause a scene with me at a cousin's wedding, saying that my Ex had come on to him that night. My then GF left, my cousin trying to get her to stay at his own celebration.

I went home to my family home, rather than to my GF, which I deeply regret to this day.
Said uncle apologised to me iin the morning, saying that he was adamant that ex-GF came onto him but that he shouldn't have contacted caused a scene.

When I was up in Lewis to interr my mum, years later, he ridiculed me for breaking down in tears during the Gaelic service. I had just laid my mum to rest and one of her many siblings is castigating me for breaking down in tears at the service and also at the congregation at the family home later. I was also castigated for not being at my Mother's wake.

I had found my mother, dead, in our hone. She had a bad flu that laid her low, like flu dows on my maternal side. She had developed pneumonia, and the GP who had attended her when she called said that it waa nothing worse than he has seen my mum undergo.

According to his testimony when I called him up.

Extended families create so much love. But all it takes is one
 

Cheap Trills

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My brother is an *******, but I'll still always be there for him and his kids. Life sucks in that way, because it would't be the same the other way around. He's always been a kick-you-while-you-are-down-tyoe brother. It is what it is.

Regarding your brother-- dropping a kid from 6'5 sounds terrible. Sometimes parents are completely justified in yelling at family.
 
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