When the cousins are just sitting around, start tossing them a football. Think about the guy a mile away, the dog, a stick, and a pile of leaves. A lot of anger swirling around. Shut down the vent. It’s not hard. Just don’t show your friends your garbage can.
Note: This is a cross-out poem, created from circling the phrases I like and crossing out everything else, in an article entitled "Malegram from Jimmy the Bartender."