A chav in our midst?!

Today my brother decided to bring  his chavvy friend “Pez” back to our house.

I just played Wii tennis with him. (!)

It is literally like trying to hold a conversation with Soulja Boy.

He actually said “ho”, and not even in an ironic way.

I am not even joking.

He’s gone out now, thank the lord.

He’s taken m brother BMX-ing (or some such rubbish).

Pez lent my brother some trackies and a baseball cap, because apparently, black skinny jeans and a Bullet For My Valentine t-shirt, coupled with an eye-covering fringe, is not seen as appropriate attire in BMX-ing circles.

Now, the question is how do I restore my brother to his usual state before he undergoes memorphosis into a… (gulp)… ch-emo.

Lexy (or Dr Smith, professor of Emo-ology) recommends:

1. Find brother and force him to abandon BMX by the wayside, returning home instead by skatebord.
2. Set iPod on to Bullet For my Valentine/My Chemical Romance/Paramore/Bring Me The Horizon (or anything else hat would be appropriate). urn the volume up LOUD and force it into brother’s ears.
3. Force him to watch a least an hour of Kerrang! TV (or more if he comes out with phrases such as “safe” and “geez”.
4. Force him  into his skinniest skinnies, and tem those with a Lost Prophets t-shirt and some Converses.
5. Finally, lend him my eyeliner and let him get on with it.

Thank you, Dr Smith. You have truly saved my brother’s life.

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