Introducing: Shani, my skank whore

Sound the trumpets! Perr per perrrrrrr! Ding dong ding! I thought it would be polite to use some instrumental music to introduce to you the girl who is my best friend in the wizzorld. My mini me. My skank whore. My hamburger. The crackers to my cheese . . . SHANI ASHLEY! Whoooo! Yaaaah!

(-_-)

"Cynthia, who the EFF is this?"

Well, glad you were nice enough to think about asking that question, because I will answer before you get the chance.

This, my dear bloggers, is my little sister. She's not little anymore. She's a big girl! No more pampers. But she's still my little sister..

I used to despise this little girl. Very much. VERY MUCH! I'm the middle sister, OK? I've got an older sister who is four years older than me, and then, just when I thought I was the baby in the family, at the age of four, I got a surprise: Shani! I was excited of course. And she was one cute baby! I would go crazy! You know, beg my mom to change her diaper or beg my mom to push the stroller and all that jazz(hands).

But then, Shani started to grow up.

But the time she was 3 and I was 7, we were sworn enemies. We would pick fights, beat each other up, yell at each other, try to get each other in trouble . . . oh man. It was bad. And Shani was the biggest cry baby known to mankind! My GOD! No one could take it! NO ONE!

But you know how they say keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer? Thats just it. Though me and Shani fought like hyenas over a juicy ass steak?

We were the best of friends.

We played dolls, we played Camp (We tied our comforters on our bed posts and made it look like a tent and brought all of our stuffed animals in and pretended they were at a day camp), we played pool (We filled the bathtub and swished around as if we were in a pool), we played house, we played movie stars . . . we did everything! And it didn't matter that she was so much younger than me. She was my companion! If we weren't fighting, we were playing. And if we fought, it only took us a few hours to become friends again.

And as we got older, the fighting stopped . . . not all together. It decreased.

But now . . . she seriously is the one person in the household I can tell ANYTHING to. She is my beeyotch. My right hand Sam. I love this whore.

TIDBIT: I'm gonna be mega sad when I study aborad for a year and leave her. Sigh . . .