|Me and my big brother circa 1967. I'm the good looking one.|
Warren's a good guy, and the best big brother I could ever hope for. He gave me one of his kidneys, one of the reasons I can still eat French fries, hell, he's one of the reasons I am still walking around breathing. Over and above that, I love the guy, hey, he's my brother. And I do talk about him frequently on my other blogs. Regarding my comic book review work, he's the main reason I still love The Flash and Justice League so much, and over at my pop culture blog, Welcome to Hell, I just recently mentioned his "On the Radio" 8-track in my Donna Summer obit more than a few months ago.
Bottom line, Warren could go to McDonald's any time he wanted. And he rarely forgot his little brother when he would bring home a snack. He would always share his fries with me, or more accurately, give them to me when he was done with them. Hey, I never said he was a saint. I still remember that. Like I said, he's a good guy. Maybe when he's living at the old folks home, in a rocking chair, with an afghan on his lap, I'll let him have the rest of my fries.
Just kidding, Warren, they're my fries. Lol.