you need to give it up, because i've had about enough. okay you little assholes, court is in session. i have reviewed all of the documents submitted into evidence; read all of the texts, carefully studied every screenshot, scrolled past all of the instagrams, and sat through 137 tutorials on how to understand snapchat because listen i don't have room for another fucking thing on my phone what with my heartwise blood pressure tracker and all of my large print books, and i have come to this decision: you guys have to kiss and make up because this is dumb and group texting you is much more convenient for me than trying to maintain two separate conversation threads so please get over this silly nonsense: I'M OLD. *bangs gavel*
i was only 6 when you were born niece 1 and i was incredibly skeptical of the dubious reasons for your existence. they didn't need another baby, i was already alive! and amazing! you grew on me though, like mold on the most exquisite french cheese, and eventually became almost tolerable. by the time niece 2 came along a couple years later i was a cool and confident miniature adult, fully prepared to take on the responsibilities of irregular feedings and pee-only diaper changes provided that they exclusively occurred during the daytime and when i wasn't 1 halfheartedly doing my homework 2 napping fully clothed in the bathtub to hide from my chores 3 eating little debbie oatmeal pies or 4 reenacting scenes from the television show hunter with my barbies. now that i am 142 i can fully appreciate your collective worth, especially since you're both old enough to do useful things like drive me to the airport and introduce me to drug dealers who might get me some celebrex.
i have never been embroiled in emotional combat with one of my homegirls over a dude because LOL WHAT IS THE PRIZE. have you dated a man before!? that's like arguing over who gets to fistfight a possum inside a dumpster or who gets to sleep with a dude so heartless that he actively pursued two cousins at the same time. what is even the point? THERE CLEARLY IS NO WINNER. besides, you queens are both shining beams of light, women who are bright and capable and have an encyclopedic knowledge of drake's back catalog. you are better than this.
some okay things the niece who bagged ol' boy got from this brief courtship:
1 someone to shower for.
2 lots of time to think about her choices and the consequences of her actions during the hours spent in her car driving back and forth from his house.
3 a perfectly steady instagram-stalking trigger finger.
and some pretty nifty things the other one missed out on:
1 thinking about leg hair.
2 not getting enough sleep and/or keeping a change of clothes on hand at all times.
3 ACCIDENTAL DOUBLE TAPS.
listen, i don't get disappointed in things because life is trash and happiness is for people with higher credit scores than i have, but i am something resembling disappointed in you both. how are you still not speaking even though that relationship ran its course and homeboy has moved on to the girl he never stopped seeing in the first place!? i know i'm oversimplifying it (um am i really tho) but this cold war has gone on for, like, three months longer than even the most petty among us (ie: me) deem acceptable. which is also three months longer than this courtship even lasted. and fine, one of you got breakfast in bed and the other one didn't but so what? say the word and i'll come over and make you a pancake before ignoring you to play video games in the other room with my friends. see!? it's just like i'm your almost-boyfriend, except you ain't gotta act all weird at the pharmacy when you go in to pick up your plan b after i kick you out. feeling lonely? don't call that dead-behind-the-eyes placeholder with the curly hair! i am always available to red box and chill, if you understand "chill" to mean falling asleep upright at the dinner table and returning the dvd so late it overdrafts your bank account. i'm sorry not sorry that this is over but neither of you was going to marry a dude who spells something "summ'n" anyway.
remember that time i stopped talking to my oldest sister for two years because she made a joke about the back of my black-ass neck and everyone said i was ~immature~ but listen hoe hyperpigmentation is a real thing that is totally not my fault? well this is kind of like that, except i put my foot down and demanded an apology and hey! i eventually got one! and we don't really talk all that much now but at least i can die knowing my refusal to acknowledge her birthdays prompted 160 penitent characters.
SO MAYBE ONE OF YOU COULD JUST APOLOGIZE. can we talk about how lucky we are that neither of you is pregnant? and that you kids these days fight with tweets instead of fists!? one time i kicked jane in the stomach during one of our many inexplicable altercations and she went flying off the bed into a wall, taking down several of my new kids on the block posters with her, then played like she was dead for sixty real seconds and i was too scared to tell mom i'd killed her so i just put on my shoes and walked out the fucking door for two days? BE GLAD FOR A COUPLE SHITTY FACEBOOK MEMES, YOU ANIMALS. back in 1987, omg why am i still alive, this could've been over for you. (also my sister is a demon i mean who tf does that to someone!?)
remember when the three of us used to hang out? that was so much fun! i can picture it like it was yesterday: your eyes dancing mischievously as we accidentally tugged at the same greasy strand of bloomin' onion, steaks as tough as elephant bacon shimmering with gristle on the dishwasher-spotted plates below us, our soundtrack the sweet sweet serenade of several 2007 honda odysseys stuck in traffic on the nearby expressway, their horns a lively staccato tapped out by roadraged north suburban soccer moms. oh, the halcyon days of our fading youth! what i wouldn't give to transport us all back to that place, to that dimly-lit too-small booth at outback steakhouse, where we created so many happy memories. how can i continue living in this misery? without you two i wouldn't know how to hit the dab or correctly use the word "sus" in a sentence. WE COULD CAPTURE THAT MAGIC AGAIN, GUYS. and we should. especially since hanging out with you separately is both time-consuming and incredibly expensive.
if you jerks don't talk soon then the terrorists win. we are for real about to have donald trump as president and you clowns are subtweeting at each other!? WHAT HAPPENS WHEN HE TRIES TO SHIP US BACK TO AFRICA, LADIES. you are going to need every ally you can scrounge up, especially since i know for a fact you bitches can't swim. explain to me why this young man, whom neither of you is with at the moment and never will be again, was worth the loss of your relationship. better yet, please make me understand why despite his noticeable absence you guys still aren't talking. oh, i know: complicated feelings fleek disrespectful low-key turnt selfish lit basic apology squad or however you young people talk to each other. and i get it. KIND OF. but like i said, i've never fought with any of my friends over a boy. and yeah okay they're all pretty and kind and talented and i'm mean and look like someone shoved a bag of wet gym towels in a trash bag so i would never stand a chance anyway, but even if i did i'd never go there bc feminism. anyway let's not stray too far from my point: sisters before misters.