eat crap and die epiphany

My brother used to say, "Eat crap and die."
Puh-lease. Like I'm gonna do that.
Jessie (my bro and not my writing bestie) was the world's biggest dork and so when my mom wasn't listening, I would tease him. Relentlessly.
He was the only boy in a house of wildly obnoxious girls and because of this he often felt picked on like my parents were truly assigning him more to do. Why do I have to mow the lawn? Pick up the dog poop? Take out the garbage? Etc. Etc. And so on.
Puh-lease.
"Jessarella, Jessarella, All I hear is Jessarella," I would sing in the perfect Cinderella mouse-squeak. He loved it. So much so, his favorite response was the aforementioned and very classy, "Eat crap and die."

For years I hated the phrase. Now I quite enjoy it. I've found myself using it when the situation seemed fitting. Like when a crit partner tells me to work on my MS instead of reading. Or when my hubby suggests I stop whining and actually start writing. Yeah, ya'll. You can Eat Crap and Die. That's what I'm thinking . . . and sometimes saying.

Obviously for all of Jessie's suggesting, it didn't add up to much because as of today I have yet to Eat Crap and Die. But today for some reason I got to really thinking about his tag line.

And then I had an epiphany. 
Instead of eating crap and dying (are you getting sick of that phrase yet?) what I need to do is sort through the crap and live. Translation: edit my crap and make it so awesome that my characters come to life. (Are you having an ah-ha moment too?)

Basically today's deep inner thoughts added up to this:

EDIT THE CRAP TILL ITS AWESOME. DONT EAT IT.

Does that even make sense to you? Or am I just having a really weird Monday morning? And if it doesn't make sense, give me your own epiphany and maybe I can run with that.