The Sibling Below Me...

[Scriblerus the Philosophe]

A tri-corner stone found in Goatie's stomach.

TSBM wears a trichobezoar.

[Swatopluk]

Sounds more like a bezoar with trichinosis.
I do not wear jewelry.

The sibling below me wears enough (occult) jewlry to be practically bulletproof

[Bob in a quantum-state-of-faith]

Indeed.  But, because of it's occult nature, it's entirely imaginary.   So, as long as the bullets are imaginary, too, I'm in good shape.

the sibling below me thought South Park's latest episode was merely lame.

[Opsa]

It will be when I gets Mugsy ta cut the little paper legs off those guys.

The Sibling Below Me thinks that would be a shame.

[Swatopluk]

They are not worth the paper they are printed on!!!

The sibling below me rants and raves and spews bile

[Scriblerus the Philosophe]

But only when sick.

TSMB has a pea shooter.

[Sibling Chatty]

I only shoot English peas, not black eyed peas, though!!

TSBM has a fondness for split pea soup, but has not figured out pea fission yet.

[Pachyderm]

I have now. Bed of peas, place finny one on top.

TSBm owns a spud gun.

[Swatopluk]

No, just an air rifle twice my age (and not used for years)

the sibling below me can't see the reason in shooting air, since its nourishing value is low.

[beagle]

But on the few occasions he's gone clay pigeon shooting has proved quite good at it.  Shooting air that is.

The sibling below me has a recipe for clay pigeon in red wine.

[Bob in a quantum-state-of-faith]

Indeed I do, but only the bright orange clay pigeons.  The bright yellow ones are not ripe, and the green ones are just plain nasty.  I'm told the white ones are not bad, but I've never shot any.  Nor any of the rare red ones.

The secret of clay pigeon cooking, is to grind the clay pigeons up into a very find powder, using a mortar and pestle.  Then discard the powder.

The sibling below me often discards ingredients in recipes.

[beagle]

Actually the sibling below you often has to discard whole saucepans and even cookers after attempting recipes.

The sibling below me has a recipe for disaster.

[Swatopluk]

Simple: Take one shrub (non-alcoholic) and add a Chain-eye. Stir for 8 years.

The sibling below me promises a Pol in every Pot

[Opsa]

Legalize marijuana and we might get some pot in every politician. I don't know if we'd get better government out of it, but at least there'd be more giggling.

The Sibling Below Me suddenly wants something salty or chocolate.

[Bob in a quantum-state-of-faith]

Preferably both.  Maybe even at the same time.

The sibling below me is now thinking of giant, salty-dipped-in-chocolate pretzels.