The War Of The Brothers Narkiewicz!

Yes ladies and gentlemen, the sun is beaming down and my cacti are wriggling in slow motion on the windowsill. Winter is dead! And so is Jesus! Who is also risen! Unlike Winter! Which isn't dead at all really, and is getting ready to trouble Australians! Ha!

I hope you all had a lovely Pasg/Easter, Pagan Festival, or just a nice weekend. I did. I went to see my Mum, who got the pork pies and applewood smoked cheddar in, and we taught her how to play Shithead. She enjoyed the game very much, but the name not so much - she is insisting on calling the game loser, which takes half the fun out of it, as far as I am concerned.

We went to see Kick Ass also, so you can look forward to her review of that over the coming days.

Rah then. I am glad you are enjoying that Superhero Music. I'll be focusing in on some tracks from that over the next week or so. And sussing out who won the T Shirt. I shall also have a go at reading the comments you've been leaving over the past week. And some websites (if anything monumental or otherwise happened this last week, I don't know about it). And my emails. My inbox is in the worst state it has ever been.  My client shows 100 messages per page, and I have pages and pages, all black. Terrifying. Souch a state of affairs can lead to all manner of trouble, so I am going to do my best to clear the bugger today, although I also have a comic strip to draw for The Stool Pigeon, and a deadline of, well, today. So I shan't be going outside much. Maybe a quick jaunt up the park for a late lunch or something, eh? Life is as kind as you let it be, after all.

Speaking of which, my little brother Alexander Velky, formerly The Svenhunter, is getting married. Amazing news indeed, the first of our clan to sign on the dotted line, and therefore a likely candidate for First Spawn, lord help us all. Anyway, he emailed me and my other brothers the following this morning:

I have long admired the wisdom of Shakespeare's fictional hero King Lear, and as such will be borrowing from his repertoire to help me with the onerous task of choosing my best man for my wedding in Summer/Autumn 2010.
You each have until Saturday 17th April to prove your love for me - the one who I deem most worthy at the end of this interim period will be announced as the winner on the aforementioned date.
Good luck!

This is typical of my brother, and typically foolish. One should not choose a best man based on who is nicest to you. One should choose one's best man based on his abilities, and likelihood to do all his best man duties properly and well.

Now, obviously, I'd be a pretty good choice. I'd bring a touch of glamour to the proceedings, and I would deliver a fantastic speech... but I would likely lose the ring, or something equally clumsy and idiotic. Zef, meanwhile, would deliver an entirely weird and psychedelic speech, and most likelysell the ring to pay for his train fare from Falmouth... whereas my brother Marek, a sensible, reliable sort would never lose anything at all. He'd probably deliver a pretty good speech as well. And organise an amazing stag party. Perhaps in a stately home somewhere. With a theme. And tuxedos. And rivers of whiskey. And guns. If I was Ali I'd choose Marek (who has, in typically sensible fashion, suggested a Voltron-styled best-of-all-brothers super-combo type situation).

How about you?