Chistmas With The Family and A Mobster

I had the family over on Christmas Eve. It was fun I guess, but I find that I have so much trouble being around my famiy all at once, especially at my house. I love them all dearly, but there are some strong personalities there that tend to be a bit on the abrasive side. Here’s a great example; My brother has been trying to convince the world, especially the family, that he is some bad ass, criminal type who lives a life best depicted by the cast of the Sopranos or some type of show where guys from New Jersey wear Adidas jogging suits and leather gloves, where almost anyone will knock you off unless they are one of your "boys" and there is constantly merchandise that "fell off a truck" for sale. In my brother’s mind, people are constantly getting cut, shot, or run out of business due to the being involved in the massive amounts of criminal activity that goes on in this hotbed of gangland activity that is known as Puyallup. In his mind, he’s the loose cannon that everybody has to worry about and knows all the big players on the scene because most underworld transactions take place at "his" bar. He thinks being a bar tender is the greatest achievement ever and he is living the life that everyone dreams about. The truth is, he’s a fat guy who lives in a shitty apartment in the suburbs and works at a dive bar where he serves drinks to dedicated alcoholics who’s biggest crime is driving home drunk form the bar every night. Twice, he has had tubs of ice cream that a delivery driver brought into the bar, but of course it "fell off a truck." Naturally, our mother and father are very impressed with the perks they receive from their crime lord son and his bask in the light that shines from the ill-gotten creamy desserts. He’s never been in a fight since Junior Highschool. He drinks too much and gambles too much and he has the social skills of a 12 year abused kid. So on Christmas eve when he comes in and announces loud enough to be sure that our parents can hear, but quiet enough to where he figured it would appear unintentional. "I’m baked." And then when I didn’t respond, "I’m baked." My little brother is sitting right there (he’s 17, so he know pot exists and knows that Billy an I are both pretty dedicated stoners, but still...) and I’m sure that my folks heard him. I just don’t see the point. I’m honest with my Dad about my smoking, and I’ve never addressed it to my mother. I don’t need to feel like a rebel. I’m 27, not 17. As normal, the rest of the night, was him just trying to convince the family that he is loose cannon that should be feared and worried about, mostly by referencing his criminal lifestyle and saying how everything is stupid and how everything sucks. The only thing anyone needs to worry about him with is finding him dead of a heart attack or self inflicted gun shot.
The rest of the family wasn’t too bad. Everyone was in a good mood, I think in large part because they were all realizing that they weren’t my brother and well, that just feels good. But my dad can’t handle losing games and when we played Cranium, he was being a bit of an ass. He would throw his arms up and sigh whenever someone had to get him to guess a song by humming it. Then he would get this "you fuckin’ idiot" look on his face, while my little sister was very clearly humming every single note of "stand by me." When it was his turn to draw he wouldn’t let anyone see the picture as he was drawing it and then when he felt it was done, would uncover, with the timer half gone and sit there with that same look on his face. In the end they lost and he didn’t pout too bad, because they had a bit of a come back.
Everyone else behaved themselves alright. But I’m starting to hate having people in my house more and more. I don’t know what it is, but I feel like people are gang raping me by sitting on my couch. Mostly when more than one of them are over, but some people can make feel ass raped, just by walking in the door. I don’t get it.