I was chatting with my little brother the other day about what he would like for Christmas and what he planned on getting the rest of the family. My family is an interesting bunch. We’re all very close, but we’re also, in our own rights, extremely difficult to shop for. My mom buys anything she wants, as does my older brother, and Lord knows my little sister doesn’t need another toy. My dad is complacent with what he already has, and my little brother doesn’t really lead on as to what he would like. That was until our recent conversation to which I already referred. When I asked him, flat out, what he’d like, he responded with minimal hesitation: Hulk Hands. Done. He will undoubtedly read this, utterly ruining the surprise come Christmas morning, but that’s okay. At least I know he’ll be pumped.
Him wanting Hulk Hands, though, is very apropos, as they are the last things he actually needs. When I call him my “little” brother, I have to clarify said moniker with the fact that he is anything but. The kid is a 6’2″, 210lbs wall of muscle, cut from wood, and strong as an ox. His hands, compared to mine, already are hulkish. Adding to his already stunning physique would be like putting a lift kit on Gravedigger. If a sudden influx of funds comes my way between now and the First Noel, I would rather see him opening my gift and tearing the Muhammad Ali robe from the box, but we will have to see how I am doing financially first. If I had my way really, I would just go with both gifts. Hulk Hands and an Ali robe. Messin’ up any sucka that steps to him…though, as a seasoned and wicked awesome lacrosse player, he is already more than capable of doing just that. Float like a butterfly, etc., etc.