I'm sick of very white teeth and lots of gymnasium practice. I'm bored, you know, send in the next one. I wanted a real man that I could believe was my brother, my father, you know, my next-door neighbor - a real person.
My mom was a hairdresser. My aunt was a hairdresser. My brother was a hairdresser. My sisters are hairdressers.
I have an older brother and younger sister and for the first few years I was quite a tomboy. We lived in a small village in Hampshire and my brother and I would climb trees and make dens.
Writing is a side hustle that had previously enabled me to pay for rehab for my brother, purchase a car for my parents, and help friends out when they fell on hard times.
I definitely think that females have a harder time. It's a lot harder to be a girl because you're always in your head. I've heard my brother go and take it out on the football as he says. Whereas girls would rather sit down and over think things.
My brother Art was a doo-wopper. He had a group that sat out on a park bench in New Orleans and sang harmonies at night, and they'd go around and win all the talent shows and get all the girls, you know.
My brother Carl taught me how to play bass. I'm a self-taught keyboard player, though - I figured out our harmonies at the piano.
I came up not understanding that a lot of people didn't start to hear music until they went to college or were turned on by an older brother or sister.
When I was a kid, I loved a heavy metal band called Motley Crue. I was thirteen when they came to my city, and I called every hotel in the Yellow Pages asking for a room by the name of their manager in hopes of meeting the band. After two or three hours of calling hotels, I got through, and the manager's brother answered the phone.
Me and my brother are players that spend three to four hours in the gym every day doing running, lifting heavy weights, and doing treadmill stuff.
My other brother, the Lord Lucas, who was heir to my father's estate, and as it were the father to take care of us all, is not less valiant than they were, although his skill in the discipline of war was not so much, not being bred therein.
Well, my brother says Hello. So, hooray for speech therapy.
I've been around a lot of great coaches in college and the NBA, and I knew Erik Spoelstra three months, and I told my wife, father, and brother that this guy is going to be a helluva coach.
I get facials. I get a manicure and pedicure every week. I get my hair cut, and I oil myself down from head to toe. I got that from my brother. I was so impressed with how high maintenance he was. When he left the room, you could still smell him for an hour.
The highlight of my childhood was making my brother laugh so hard that food came out of his nose.
Phil Niekro and his brother were pitching against each other in Atlanta. Their parents were sitting right behind home plate. I saw their folks more that day than they did the whole weekend.
I think that's something that we as black people in this country have been robbed of. I compare it to my brother's wife, who is Hispanic. She was born in America but her parents are from Honduras. She speaks Spanish. She knows the culture. But most black people, we were robbed of that. We don't know our heritage.
When I was 12, my brother and I moved back to Honolulu to live with our mother. Hawaii felt like another universe, and reflecting on it, I am struck by how much more open and accepting it was.
It was more my uncle - my mom's brother - and my aunt who turned me on to hoops. He was more into basketball and he'd take me to Raptors games. And then my dad started taking me with him. And I started falling in love with the game.
Living in the 'Big Brother' house is a bit like living in hell. Only hotter.
