SO I go to Best Buy with my mom, as we were both looking for new phones. Niether of us found what we were wanting, so we started dabbling in the moovies section (we all know what happens here). She is looking for some kind of series to watch and ROME happens to be right in front of us.
I happen to think that ROME is the greatest thing in Moovie Series history, so I talk her into buying the first season. She's got it in her hands examining the front, which has a great ROMAN army, and Caesar, and the Great Golden Eagle splattered with the blood of weaker civilizations on it. We're walking up to the register and she stops me to ask something... "Now this is about Rome right?" Maybe this isn't that funny to you all, but my knees buckled. She was only trying to make sure that it wasn't some metaphor for some thematic/artsy parallel. Fair enough. It was still hilarious.
(Two hours pass. We are watching the first episode.)
Caesar and his army are DOMINATING Gaul. He strips the enemy chief down naked, makes him kiss the Golden Eagle and ransacks their territory. Caeser collects the riches, comes back to ROME, throws the spoils into the hordes of Roman citizens making them drool with appreciation for their wonderfully aggressive/generous leader. It all happens so quick, and so I explain it to my mom and she replies, "Wow. That's a lot like Oprah."
Does anyone know how to say genius mother in Italian?
I smell a scene.
-Anthony
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
The Ultimate Holiday Irony:
that the Salvation Army bell ringer and the homeless guy standing six feet away from him at the Walgreens across the street are competing for the same customers. I even heard the bell ringer getting competitive with the homeless guy by trying to out-pander him. Speaking louder, stealing his lines ("remember on the way out?").
People are much more generous to the sealed red bucket than the eyesore of a almsman. That racket is a gold mine. If I were the homeless guy, I would just accost one of the ringers and steal his bell and bucket.
Actually....
that's not a bad idea.....
-Brett
People are much more generous to the sealed red bucket than the eyesore of a almsman. That racket is a gold mine. If I were the homeless guy, I would just accost one of the ringers and steal his bell and bucket.
Actually....
that's not a bad idea.....
-Brett
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The Fire, My Life, ANd What Happened
Sunday 12/9/07: 4-4:30
Me: sitting in chair scoffing at the Patriots
Mark: sitting on couch scoffing at the Patriots
I looked at Mark, ready to ask if he smelled something, he was already going to ask me the same thing. We get up looking for the source, first checking the oven, (more smoke), behind the fridge (more smoke), in the bathroom (smoke poured out), behind the radiator (Kitchen was completely full of smoke).
The following is a serious note. Always have batteries in your smoke detectors! Our whole place fill up with smoke and the fire had become big enough to evacuate and call 911 in a matter of 2-3 minutes. (If you are asleep, you're screwed w/out detectors)
So anyway, I went down to the basement because that was the obvious source of the smoke , opened the door and immediately could not breathe. I could see flames, but not directly. I call 911, and went back in to tell Mark how serious it was, he had already grabbed my computer, George's computer, I grabbed my guitar and we went out to wait for the Fire Dept. They arrived in less than seven minutes.
The first of the firemen came up to us and asked, "You guys live here?"
"Yes", Mark and I answered in a simultaneous desperation.
"Where exactly is the fire?"
"In the basement"
By this time there were four trucks and hordes of manly dudes weaving around us in a controlled chaos. I felt so safe. I really did. Then I kinda followed the first of the guys that were going into the house telling them, "okay the fire is only in the basement"
"gotcha" He replied as he flew up the front steps and Axed in the front door (not the basement).
"The basement!" I yelled again, as the sound of shattering glass and broken walls poured out the window with the smoke.
It was at this point that i knew this was for real. Then they sleighed in a little boat of power tools and inside of a minute, they were sawing out the back wall of our basement/kitchen.
So, those types of things happened all the way up through the highest of our roof.
Then a cop came up to us and told us that our whole house was done and that all our stuff was going to be ruined. Note #2: Renter's insurance! Do it now!
Then an annoying group of vultching parasites started loitering around the scene trying relentlessly to acquire an "okay" from us to let them board up the house. They are right next to telemarketers in the chain of soulless professions. They wouldn't leave us alone and were trying to schmooze and persuade during this chaotic frenzy.
In the end, the cop was wrong, we didn't lose everything, our stuff was just severely smoke damaged and the fire stayed in the basement, but due to ventilation requirements by the CFD, they had to tear up the house pretty good, and it is no longer livable. George, Mark, and I have, as of 12:30 today, found a great apartment up at Lawrence/Hoyne and we are pumped to stop living on couches at friends' houses (THANK YOU SO MUCH SEAN!) and get into another place.
So that's what really happened. In the end, I learned that I have so many responsibilities that I need to confront. I also found out that I have the MOST SUPPORTIVE, GENEROUS friends in the WORLD! So many people offered up shelter for me and it made me feel so loved.
I LOVE YOU FRIENDS! FOREVER!
-anthony (sorry for the long post if you're not interested)
Me: sitting in chair scoffing at the Patriots
Mark: sitting on couch scoffing at the Patriots
I looked at Mark, ready to ask if he smelled something, he was already going to ask me the same thing. We get up looking for the source, first checking the oven, (more smoke), behind the fridge (more smoke), in the bathroom (smoke poured out), behind the radiator (Kitchen was completely full of smoke).
The following is a serious note. Always have batteries in your smoke detectors! Our whole place fill up with smoke and the fire had become big enough to evacuate and call 911 in a matter of 2-3 minutes. (If you are asleep, you're screwed w/out detectors)
So anyway, I went down to the basement because that was the obvious source of the smoke , opened the door and immediately could not breathe. I could see flames, but not directly. I call 911, and went back in to tell Mark how serious it was, he had already grabbed my computer, George's computer, I grabbed my guitar and we went out to wait for the Fire Dept. They arrived in less than seven minutes.
The first of the firemen came up to us and asked, "You guys live here?"
"Yes", Mark and I answered in a simultaneous desperation.
"Where exactly is the fire?"
"In the basement"
By this time there were four trucks and hordes of manly dudes weaving around us in a controlled chaos. I felt so safe. I really did. Then I kinda followed the first of the guys that were going into the house telling them, "okay the fire is only in the basement"
"gotcha" He replied as he flew up the front steps and Axed in the front door (not the basement).
"The basement!" I yelled again, as the sound of shattering glass and broken walls poured out the window with the smoke.
It was at this point that i knew this was for real. Then they sleighed in a little boat of power tools and inside of a minute, they were sawing out the back wall of our basement/kitchen.
So, those types of things happened all the way up through the highest of our roof.
Then a cop came up to us and told us that our whole house was done and that all our stuff was going to be ruined. Note #2: Renter's insurance! Do it now!
Then an annoying group of vultching parasites started loitering around the scene trying relentlessly to acquire an "okay" from us to let them board up the house. They are right next to telemarketers in the chain of soulless professions. They wouldn't leave us alone and were trying to schmooze and persuade during this chaotic frenzy.
In the end, the cop was wrong, we didn't lose everything, our stuff was just severely smoke damaged and the fire stayed in the basement, but due to ventilation requirements by the CFD, they had to tear up the house pretty good, and it is no longer livable. George, Mark, and I have, as of 12:30 today, found a great apartment up at Lawrence/Hoyne and we are pumped to stop living on couches at friends' houses (THANK YOU SO MUCH SEAN!) and get into another place.
So that's what really happened. In the end, I learned that I have so many responsibilities that I need to confront. I also found out that I have the MOST SUPPORTIVE, GENEROUS friends in the WORLD! So many people offered up shelter for me and it made me feel so loved.
I LOVE YOU FRIENDS! FOREVER!
-anthony (sorry for the long post if you're not interested)
Monday, December 10, 2007
So, Anthony's house burned down last night...
not really, but close enough. He slept on a friend's futon and came into work this morning wreaking of smoke. It smelled like he had been roasting marshmallows all night, but instead he was watching his life crumble in front of his eyes.
When he breached the door at 10:30, he had a thousand-yard stare and the look of a disillusioned vet. I spotted him going through the trash looking for lunch scraps, and when I asked him what was going on he actually barked at me.
It became apparent very soon that something was direly wrong. I passed a hat, to see if I couldn't help maybe get him back on his feet. When I offered him the 12 dollars and 18 cents, he looked all indignant and refused. It's such a bold move, to refuse charity, but hubris will be your downfall my friend.
Who knows where he will be spending his night tonight.
Anthony, wherever you are, I will sing you my fondest lullaby from the warm comfort of my bed tonight. Hopefully, the sweet notes will reach your dirt-caked ears and lull you to sleep on your bed of tear-smeared newspapers.
-Brett
PS - Okay, so maybe I don't understand the concept of sadness. And maybe, okay, yes, I've never been sad before. But looking up the word in the dictionary, I get a premonition that maybe it's worse than good. So, when you google search "huge sadness" it seems weird that this picture and this picture are two of the top ten choices.
PPS - This one's for you Anth:
When he breached the door at 10:30, he had a thousand-yard stare and the look of a disillusioned vet. I spotted him going through the trash looking for lunch scraps, and when I asked him what was going on he actually barked at me.
It became apparent very soon that something was direly wrong. I passed a hat, to see if I couldn't help maybe get him back on his feet. When I offered him the 12 dollars and 18 cents, he looked all indignant and refused. It's such a bold move, to refuse charity, but hubris will be your downfall my friend.
Who knows where he will be spending his night tonight.
Anthony, wherever you are, I will sing you my fondest lullaby from the warm comfort of my bed tonight. Hopefully, the sweet notes will reach your dirt-caked ears and lull you to sleep on your bed of tear-smeared newspapers.
-Brett
PS - Okay, so maybe I don't understand the concept of sadness. And maybe, okay, yes, I've never been sad before. But looking up the word in the dictionary, I get a premonition that maybe it's worse than good. So, when you google search "huge sadness" it seems weird that this picture and this picture are two of the top ten choices.
PPS - This one's for you Anth:
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
You Know What I'm gonna put In my diary Brett?
A little thing called WHY THE FUCK DO RESTAURANTS KEEP THE TAILS ON SHRIMP WHEN THEY PUT THEM IN FOOD! ESPECIALLY THAI PLACES. AND THEIR SOUPS. BUT NOT JUST THEM. IT'S EVERYWHERE, THEY JUST GET THE BAD REP. BECAUSE THEY USE SO MUCH SHRIMP. NOT AN EXCUSE THOUGH. CUT THE FUCKING TAILS OFF. IT'S SOUP!
AND OLIVES! I LOVE OLIVES. EVERYONE ELSE FIGURES OUT HOW TO TAKE SEEDS OUT. YOUR FANCY SEEDS DON'T MAKE THEM TASTE BETTER. IN FACT, IT FORCES FANCY PEOPLE TO HAVE TO SPIT OUT SEEDS IN THE MIDDLE OF A FANCY FINGER-FOODED PARTY. Unless fancy people are so fancy that they just bit the bullet and swallow the seeds so they don't have to spit. THINK ABOUT IT! HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A FANCY PANTS SPIT OUT A SEED? I HAVEN'T. AND THAT'S THE TYPE OF SHIT THAT I LOOK FOR WHEN I'M HANGING WITH FANCY PANTS'S. I HOPE THAT IF YOU TAKE A X-RAY OF ALL FANCY PANTS'S STOMACHS THAT WILL FIND A BIG PILE OF OLIVE SEEDS IN THERE. GOSH, I'D JUST LAUGH.....AND POINT.........RIGHT AT THE X-RAY X-RAY SLIDE....Then I'd say to the doctor (when I gained composure) "Hey Doc. DO you have one from the side? Let's see it! No wait, wait, my mouth hurts from laughing, hold on......Okay I'm ready". But then it would get awkward because we often forget that doctors are fancy pants's and they have olive seeds in their bellies, and he would reply "I'm glad you find this so funny."
Then I'd put my head down and feel ashamed....Until I thought of a reply and I started to laugh because I couldn't keep from laughing so I might as well say it......"It's better than having a tummy full of cummy!" Then I run out of the office as fast as I can.
Then I ask myself, "Why were I in the Doc's office looking at other people's X-rays?"
THAT'S ALL
-ANTHONY
AND OLIVES! I LOVE OLIVES. EVERYONE ELSE FIGURES OUT HOW TO TAKE SEEDS OUT. YOUR FANCY SEEDS DON'T MAKE THEM TASTE BETTER. IN FACT, IT FORCES FANCY PEOPLE TO HAVE TO SPIT OUT SEEDS IN THE MIDDLE OF A FANCY FINGER-FOODED PARTY. Unless fancy people are so fancy that they just bit the bullet and swallow the seeds so they don't have to spit. THINK ABOUT IT! HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A FANCY PANTS SPIT OUT A SEED? I HAVEN'T. AND THAT'S THE TYPE OF SHIT THAT I LOOK FOR WHEN I'M HANGING WITH FANCY PANTS'S. I HOPE THAT IF YOU TAKE A X-RAY OF ALL FANCY PANTS'S STOMACHS THAT WILL FIND A BIG PILE OF OLIVE SEEDS IN THERE. GOSH, I'D JUST LAUGH.....AND POINT.........RIGHT AT THE X-RAY X-RAY SLIDE....Then I'd say to the doctor (when I gained composure) "Hey Doc. DO you have one from the side? Let's see it! No wait, wait, my mouth hurts from laughing, hold on......Okay I'm ready". But then it would get awkward because we often forget that doctors are fancy pants's and they have olive seeds in their bellies, and he would reply "I'm glad you find this so funny."
Then I'd put my head down and feel ashamed....Until I thought of a reply and I started to laugh because I couldn't keep from laughing so I might as well say it......"It's better than having a tummy full of cummy!" Then I run out of the office as fast as I can.
Then I ask myself, "Why were I in the Doc's office looking at other people's X-rays?"
THAT'S ALL
-ANTHONY
It's been snowing for 24 hours now...
and I haven't fallen on my ass in a group of total strangers.
I'm going to file that in the "victory" column in my diary.
-Brett
I'm going to file that in the "victory" column in my diary.
-Brett
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Jewelry and Kisses Have Hijacked My Holidays...
Precursor: I don't hate Christmas/smiling/sweaters/children/warmth/love/lovers/the act of making love/kissing/good movies/the general sense of touch/ or anything else that Brett will put in my mouth after I make my case.
The holidays are among us! I always look forward to the veil of comfy red that underscores America in early December. There is a bit of a change in pace (everything speeds up), and I always talk to my family more. All of these things are total positives, and these alone are enough to make the "season" worth having.
However! The greedy hands of American marketing have certainly rubbed their sweaty palms all over the original intentions of the spirit.
I could rant about thousands of increases in advertising to sell any given product, but I am writing today to rant about Jewelry commercials. They suck. Not only are they the most frequent commercials to invade my TV watching experiences, they are also the worst.
1. They act like the only real way to love your wife is to buy them diamonds. They make women out to be greedy little gnomes that are bitter and insatiable until the moment a diamond is in the room. "Love" is rediscovered as soon as she finds out he spent money on overpriced diamonds for her.
2. The kisses. I can't stand to see people kissing passionately on TV. They kiss so romantically and slow, I can almost hear the strangers and their lips clinging for way too long. I must admit that this qualm of mine was discovered during movies where you can actually hear the mess going on between the actors. It's just so fake to me.
3. The slogans and lines:
- "Every kiss begins with Kay." - Really? Do you realize what you're saying? Every kiss? Every kiss in the world? Would you really even want that to be the truth? Imagine that. The only time anyone kisses is when they receive something from Kay Jewelers. Sooo pompous and overstated.
- "He went to Jared!?!?!?" - The next is the one where a boyfriend is coming up to a house and the completely red sweatered family sees him with a Jared box. They all start relaying to each other "He went to Jared!" "He went to Jared?" "Yep, he went to Jared." The daughter comes down as the whole extended (as if grandma hangs there daily) family is "Hiding" on the stairs to watch their little girl become initiated into the world of material dependency.
- "A Diamond is Forever" - Nope. Not at all. I've seen girls lose them. They don't care THAT much. They just go get it replaced. DeBeers? More like DaQueers. (no offense) <>
...And also, I hate John Mellencamp. So sue me.
-Anthony
PS - and apparently, this has something to do with diamonds. hmmm...
- Brett
The holidays are among us! I always look forward to the veil of comfy red that underscores America in early December. There is a bit of a change in pace (everything speeds up), and I always talk to my family more. All of these things are total positives, and these alone are enough to make the "season" worth having.
However! The greedy hands of American marketing have certainly rubbed their sweaty palms all over the original intentions of the spirit.
I could rant about thousands of increases in advertising to sell any given product, but I am writing today to rant about Jewelry commercials. They suck. Not only are they the most frequent commercials to invade my TV watching experiences, they are also the worst.
1. They act like the only real way to love your wife is to buy them diamonds. They make women out to be greedy little gnomes that are bitter and insatiable until the moment a diamond is in the room. "Love" is rediscovered as soon as she finds out he spent money on overpriced diamonds for her.
2. The kisses. I can't stand to see people kissing passionately on TV. They kiss so romantically and slow, I can almost hear the strangers and their lips clinging for way too long. I must admit that this qualm of mine was discovered during movies where you can actually hear the mess going on between the actors. It's just so fake to me.
3. The slogans and lines:
- "Every kiss begins with Kay." - Really? Do you realize what you're saying? Every kiss? Every kiss in the world? Would you really even want that to be the truth? Imagine that. The only time anyone kisses is when they receive something from Kay Jewelers. Sooo pompous and overstated.
- "He went to Jared!?!?!?" - The next is the one where a boyfriend is coming up to a house and the completely red sweatered family sees him with a Jared box. They all start relaying to each other "He went to Jared!" "He went to Jared?" "Yep, he went to Jared." The daughter comes down as the whole extended (as if grandma hangs there daily) family is "Hiding" on the stairs to watch their little girl become initiated into the world of material dependency.
- "A Diamond is Forever" - Nope. Not at all. I've seen girls lose them. They don't care THAT much. They just go get it replaced. DeBeers? More like DaQueers. (no offense) <
...And also, I hate John Mellencamp. So sue me.
-Anthony
PS - and apparently, this has something to do with diamonds. hmmm...
- Brett
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
TURDUCKEN!!
Holy shit! How come I've never heard of this before?
and I quote: "A Turducken is a partially de-boned turkey stuffed with a de-boned duck, which itself is stuffed with a small de-boned chicken." As if that weren't enough they get sausage involved: "The cavity of the chicken and the rest of the gaps are filled with, at the very least, a highly seasoned breadcrumb mixture or sausage meat."
I'm speechless.
It's like the first time you see a rabid unicorn fighting a robotic dolphin.
Just breathtaking.
-Brett
and I quote: "A Turducken is a partially de-boned turkey stuffed with a de-boned duck, which itself is stuffed with a small de-boned chicken." As if that weren't enough they get sausage involved: "The cavity of the chicken and the rest of the gaps are filled with, at the very least, a highly seasoned breadcrumb mixture or sausage meat."
I'm speechless.
It's like the first time you see a rabid unicorn fighting a robotic dolphin.
Just breathtaking.
-Brett
In which, we find our hero, discovering his inner child...
There are very few things in this world that make me giddy. I usually greet Friday's with ambivalence, ice cream with malaise, and Christmas morning with a shrug. I once fell asleep on a roller coaster.
That's not to say I am a total curmudgeon. The short list of things that make me happy enough to punch a nun goes something like this:
1. Eating - The more the better. I am into decadence.
2. Drinking - ummm, drinking.
3. Seeing my family - If I haven't seen my wife and son in a few days, let's just say, you probably want to keep your distance.
4. Flying on planes - I have been known to be so excited for a plane trip that I will get to the exit in time to watch two or three flights go out before mine.
5. Days off of work - this one pretty much speaks for itself.
In the next 24 hours all five of these things will be happening in spades.
Yay, Thanksgiving!
Just remember, if you feel like there is nothing to be thankful for, you always have one thing: the fact that you live in a country where it is not only normal, but encouraged to spend a random Thursday bumming around in your underwear, being entirely unproductive, engorging yourself with the fattiest foods you can find, watching football and drinking ungodly amounts of alcohol. If that doesn't make you tear up with pride for being an American, well, I might just water-board you myself.
I hope everyone (all 1 of you who read this) has a great holiday, whether with family or not.
-Brett
That's not to say I am a total curmudgeon. The short list of things that make me happy enough to punch a nun goes something like this:
1. Eating - The more the better. I am into decadence.
2. Drinking - ummm, drinking.
3. Seeing my family - If I haven't seen my wife and son in a few days, let's just say, you probably want to keep your distance.
4. Flying on planes - I have been known to be so excited for a plane trip that I will get to the exit in time to watch two or three flights go out before mine.
5. Days off of work - this one pretty much speaks for itself.
In the next 24 hours all five of these things will be happening in spades.
Yay, Thanksgiving!
Just remember, if you feel like there is nothing to be thankful for, you always have one thing: the fact that you live in a country where it is not only normal, but encouraged to spend a random Thursday bumming around in your underwear, being entirely unproductive, engorging yourself with the fattiest foods you can find, watching football and drinking ungodly amounts of alcohol. If that doesn't make you tear up with pride for being an American, well, I might just water-board you myself.
I hope everyone (all 1 of you who read this) has a great holiday, whether with family or not.
-Brett
Friday, November 16, 2007
First of All......
I don't like Brett's tone when he forces his opinions of fruit on me (Flav-O-Splosions). I love the term, it's cute and endearing, but we must remember that it is still an opinion.
I simply don't like the consistency of raspberries. They're seedy and they linger in your mouth all day. I explained that, and it's just not worth it. But he acts like my opinion is wrong, replying "Nope. You just can't handle these splosions", at every turn of my explanation. Things are just not that black and white.
I'm happy that he's happy (if only for the short duration of half a breakfast). But let me enjoy my Yogranana Revolution okay?
I think I'm gonna break a plate right in front of him and walk away from it.
I'll let you know how it goes.
-Anthony
I simply don't like the consistency of raspberries. They're seedy and they linger in your mouth all day. I explained that, and it's just not worth it. But he acts like my opinion is wrong, replying "Nope. You just can't handle these splosions", at every turn of my explanation. Things are just not that black and white.
I'm happy that he's happy (if only for the short duration of half a breakfast). But let me enjoy my Yogranana Revolution okay?
I think I'm gonna break a plate right in front of him and walk away from it.
I'll let you know how it goes.
-Anthony
It seems only natural....
I decided this morning at breakfast that I am going to just cut the crap, and start calling raspberries "Flav-O-Splosions". I mean, it seem like a natural step.
Of course, when I asked Anthony if he was going to eat his Flav-O-Splosions, or if I could have them, he just stared blankly at me.
Dumbly even.
Turns out Anton Elliboy don't like Flav-O-Splosions. I mean, at that point, one has to ask themselves...Is it the Flav or the Splosion that's bogging you down here? I found out soon thereafter, that he his also allergic to sunshine and puppies.
Sounds about right.
-Brett
Of course, when I asked Anthony if he was going to eat his Flav-O-Splosions, or if I could have them, he just stared blankly at me.
Dumbly even.
Turns out Anton Elliboy don't like Flav-O-Splosions. I mean, at that point, one has to ask themselves...Is it the Flav or the Splosion that's bogging you down here? I found out soon thereafter, that he his also allergic to sunshine and puppies.
Sounds about right.
-Brett
To The Dungeon With the Gum Chewer!
Two nights ago I was on my way to the coast (Lake Shore Drive) to visit a friend and she lives right off Addison at Lake Shore. I normally have no reason to take the Addison bus that far east so I was unfamiliar with the route and the stops, turnaround, etc.
So I get on the bus and it is packed. However, there is a seat open all the way up front closest to driver and that is perfect for me because I like to chat with the drivers sometimes, and considering I was unclear as to the route's stops, it was convenient.
Happiness ensues. Time to pull out my book and chuckle as I read the swift word massages of Gunter Grass and his Nobel prize winning novel, The Tin Drum. Things were good. It just feels right to read on the bus or train. This city's charm goes whistling by out the window and the bus reeks of random people and there lifestyles (Some much better than others of course).
We pull further away from my stop without stopping at two corners, which kinda disappointed me because I was feeling so metro educational (reading a book), and I didn't want it to end so quickly. Then, we stop at the next light, Lincoln/Ashland and a mother with her kid get up to leave. Evidently she was putting his coat on or something and sort of forgot to look where they were. The point is she got up and started make her way very urgently to the front, obviously trying to catch this stop and the driver started pulling away anyway. A second later when the lady had to ask the lady driver to stop, she stopped very suddenly with about ten feet of the bus in the intersection and made a huge scene.
Still grateful, the mother thanked the driver for stopping, even though the driver totally saw her coming to the front. While the two got off the bus, the driver popped her gum rapidly, slowly turned her head to her window, and said "You NEEEED to look where you goin' cause I ain't driv............(then the words just mumbled off into some karmic hell where wasted negative energy goes to be bottled up and manifest itself in the form of an abusive boyfriend somewhere).
I hadn't given up on the driver though. Like always you have to think to yourself "Maybe something terrible happened and she has no way of dealing with it right now."
Then we get up to Southport and 6-8 people get up to get off. They almost all look her way or say thank you, and she responds popping that damned gum of hers louder! It sounded like a machine gun sniping good vibes clean out of the air. It was killing me.
We pass Clark, people get off, but know by this point not to talk to her. We pass Halsted, same thing. By this point all but one person was off the bus and she had managed to inject just a drop of malice into every soul that came into contact with her. AND I STILL WANTED TO BE NICE!
As we approached Broadway, the last man got off the bus and I didn't see a bus stop between there and Lake Shore so I asked her if there was a stop before Lake Shore.
"I go to laggle wazzle Johnny Raggle.......(she turns torward the window popping that goddamned gum letting her answer trail off and give me absolutely nothing) She speeds up the bus, heading to Lake Shore. I ask again if there is a stop before Lake Shore. "BBDDDDDDD POP, POP, POP", Nothing. I'm done being nice.
We pass the stop that I obviously wanted and turn on to Lake Shore. It's only me and her at this point, so I decided I would stand as close to her as I could and pull the rope three times at the first Lake Shore stop. I do so proudly and loudly. It doesn't even break the skin of that salty exoskeleton of hers! She just Pops and slows to stop.
Me face gets red, I get shaky and nervous because I have to think of something to combat this negativity and teach her a lesson. "You're a writer and comedian Anthony, twist this into something she'll never forget." "Wait, no, don't think about thinking of something, go with what you feel, this isn't a stage." "But you do have the upper hand, cause you think on the spot all the time." (I bus is stopped and I am getting off) "It's too late to think Anthony, just say something shitty and take a pound of flesh......"
I accept that it is just going to have to be a very sarcastic "I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY." But by this time I am already off the bus, walking to the curb, so I half turn to drown her in kindness, my foot doesn't clear the curb and I fall all the way down to my hands and an old lady at the stop comes to my attention concerned. There I am being aided by the elderly in front of my sworn enemy. I felt so weak.
It was enough to hold the bus up for just a second, but that damned gum chewer saw everything. I couldn't even look at her. I may have even forgot to thank the old lady in my anger. O.K. I did forget.
The Gum Chewer won.
-Anthony
So I get on the bus and it is packed. However, there is a seat open all the way up front closest to driver and that is perfect for me because I like to chat with the drivers sometimes, and considering I was unclear as to the route's stops, it was convenient.
Happiness ensues. Time to pull out my book and chuckle as I read the swift word massages of Gunter Grass and his Nobel prize winning novel, The Tin Drum. Things were good. It just feels right to read on the bus or train. This city's charm goes whistling by out the window and the bus reeks of random people and there lifestyles (Some much better than others of course).
We pull further away from my stop without stopping at two corners, which kinda disappointed me because I was feeling so metro educational (reading a book), and I didn't want it to end so quickly. Then, we stop at the next light, Lincoln/Ashland and a mother with her kid get up to leave. Evidently she was putting his coat on or something and sort of forgot to look where they were. The point is she got up and started make her way very urgently to the front, obviously trying to catch this stop and the driver started pulling away anyway. A second later when the lady had to ask the lady driver to stop, she stopped very suddenly with about ten feet of the bus in the intersection and made a huge scene.
Still grateful, the mother thanked the driver for stopping, even though the driver totally saw her coming to the front. While the two got off the bus, the driver popped her gum rapidly, slowly turned her head to her window, and said "You NEEEED to look where you goin' cause I ain't driv............(then the words just mumbled off into some karmic hell where wasted negative energy goes to be bottled up and manifest itself in the form of an abusive boyfriend somewhere).
I hadn't given up on the driver though. Like always you have to think to yourself "Maybe something terrible happened and she has no way of dealing with it right now."
Then we get up to Southport and 6-8 people get up to get off. They almost all look her way or say thank you, and she responds popping that damned gum of hers louder! It sounded like a machine gun sniping good vibes clean out of the air. It was killing me.
We pass Clark, people get off, but know by this point not to talk to her. We pass Halsted, same thing. By this point all but one person was off the bus and she had managed to inject just a drop of malice into every soul that came into contact with her. AND I STILL WANTED TO BE NICE!
As we approached Broadway, the last man got off the bus and I didn't see a bus stop between there and Lake Shore so I asked her if there was a stop before Lake Shore.
"I go to laggle wazzle Johnny Raggle.......(she turns torward the window popping that goddamned gum letting her answer trail off and give me absolutely nothing) She speeds up the bus, heading to Lake Shore. I ask again if there is a stop before Lake Shore. "BBDDDDDDD POP, POP, POP", Nothing. I'm done being nice.
We pass the stop that I obviously wanted and turn on to Lake Shore. It's only me and her at this point, so I decided I would stand as close to her as I could and pull the rope three times at the first Lake Shore stop. I do so proudly and loudly. It doesn't even break the skin of that salty exoskeleton of hers! She just Pops and slows to stop.
Me face gets red, I get shaky and nervous because I have to think of something to combat this negativity and teach her a lesson. "You're a writer and comedian Anthony, twist this into something she'll never forget." "Wait, no, don't think about thinking of something, go with what you feel, this isn't a stage." "But you do have the upper hand, cause you think on the spot all the time." (I bus is stopped and I am getting off) "It's too late to think Anthony, just say something shitty and take a pound of flesh......"
I accept that it is just going to have to be a very sarcastic "I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY." But by this time I am already off the bus, walking to the curb, so I half turn to drown her in kindness, my foot doesn't clear the curb and I fall all the way down to my hands and an old lady at the stop comes to my attention concerned. There I am being aided by the elderly in front of my sworn enemy. I felt so weak.
It was enough to hold the bus up for just a second, but that damned gum chewer saw everything. I couldn't even look at her. I may have even forgot to thank the old lady in my anger. O.K. I did forget.
The Gum Chewer won.
-Anthony
Monday, November 5, 2007
Punk is not a fashion choice....
Three things I would like to tell the three kids sitting across from me on the train tonight:
1. A skateboard is not an accessory.
2. It is a common fact that, there is a direct correlation between the number of facial piercings and the degree to which the yuppies on the train think you are just cute as a button.
3. DING DING DING! CONGRATULATIONS! You are the 10,000th girl in Chicago to highlight your hair in bright pink.
Other than that, ya know, keep rockin'.
-Brett
1. A skateboard is not an accessory.
2. It is a common fact that, there is a direct correlation between the number of facial piercings and the degree to which the yuppies on the train think you are just cute as a button.
3. DING DING DING! CONGRATULATIONS! You are the 10,000th girl in Chicago to highlight your hair in bright pink.
Other than that, ya know, keep rockin'.
-Brett
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Wow! Can this be real?
Brett is, as I speak, eating a salad. Not "eating it" as you would imagine, but individually picking pieces of lettuce up with his fingers and dipping them in ranch. No one is that particular/eccentric/high class, are they?
If "they" is you, you need to not take yourself so seriously cause *life's too short*. (copyright, Anthony Ellison, 2007)
See you guys later, I got some peeps to motivate.
Anthony
If "they" is you, you need to not take yourself so seriously cause *life's too short*. (copyright, Anthony Ellison, 2007)
See you guys later, I got some peeps to motivate.
Anthony
Friday, October 12, 2007
Brett's missed connection...
Friday, 6:45 AM: m4w
Hey girl on the el. Yeah you. The blond with the bangin' bod. You were the one in the charcoal pantsuit, I was the one in the fire engine red zip-up hoodie. You are my destiny, I am your dream dove.
Do you think I didn't notice the sparks flying when we came so close to eye contact that one time? Your staring out the window "ignoring" me was a classic lovers' game, but you don't need to act coy. It's okay, I am here to release your wild heart and subsequently tame it, like a majestic stallion.
From the moment our eyes almost caught each others, I cannot think of anything but our inevitable life as the royal family of a private island in the South Pacific. Every moment of every second of every minute, I pine for your black hose and faux leather brief tote. Please pencil me in to your soul.
If you ever want to stop playing games and get down to business you know where to find me. We can restart our life right where it started this morning. I'll be on the third to last car on the Brown Line between 7:30 and 8:00 every morning until you come to your senses.
-Brett
Hey girl on the el. Yeah you. The blond with the bangin' bod. You were the one in the charcoal pantsuit, I was the one in the fire engine red zip-up hoodie. You are my destiny, I am your dream dove.
Do you think I didn't notice the sparks flying when we came so close to eye contact that one time? Your staring out the window "ignoring" me was a classic lovers' game, but you don't need to act coy. It's okay, I am here to release your wild heart and subsequently tame it, like a majestic stallion.
From the moment our eyes almost caught each others, I cannot think of anything but our inevitable life as the royal family of a private island in the South Pacific. Every moment of every second of every minute, I pine for your black hose and faux leather brief tote. Please pencil me in to your soul.
If you ever want to stop playing games and get down to business you know where to find me. We can restart our life right where it started this morning. I'll be on the third to last car on the Brown Line between 7:30 and 8:00 every morning until you come to your senses.
-Brett
Anthony's Missed Connection
Friday, 12:30pm: m4w
I was digging through the trash on Lasalle Street behind Taco Bell, and ironically I found a Hot Dog still bunned. You were driving a sparkling clean silver Lexus. There was a man in the passenger seat who seemed to be your boyfriend by the way he was biting your earlobes. You looked up in pleasure and lost sight of where you were driving. Your car swerved and clipped my knee.
You stopped. And so did time.
You courteously rolled down your window a third of the way and asked if I was okay. I think I saw a tear roll down your cheek, but then again, it was hard to tell much as your boyfriend threw my head off the concrete wall and screamed for me to not look at your license plate or tell any officers about what had happened.
As he forced me to limp away from the scene, I looked back at you. Our eyes briefly made contact as you licked your hand, and lowered it below public view.
Was it just me or did we have something spiritual in that moment? Anyway, I still have that hot dog and I was wondering if you wanted to come over and share it?
-anthony
I was digging through the trash on Lasalle Street behind Taco Bell, and ironically I found a Hot Dog still bunned. You were driving a sparkling clean silver Lexus. There was a man in the passenger seat who seemed to be your boyfriend by the way he was biting your earlobes. You looked up in pleasure and lost sight of where you were driving. Your car swerved and clipped my knee.
You stopped. And so did time.
You courteously rolled down your window a third of the way and asked if I was okay. I think I saw a tear roll down your cheek, but then again, it was hard to tell much as your boyfriend threw my head off the concrete wall and screamed for me to not look at your license plate or tell any officers about what had happened.
As he forced me to limp away from the scene, I looked back at you. Our eyes briefly made contact as you licked your hand, and lowered it below public view.
Was it just me or did we have something spiritual in that moment? Anyway, I still have that hot dog and I was wondering if you wanted to come over and share it?
-anthony
Thursday, September 27, 2007
If you run into Brett on the street...
Smile, wink at him, give him a hard slap on the shoulder and say "tsup' chief", then when he is so pissed he can hardly think of the words to reply, just walk by and leave him (second wink optional).
-anthony
-anthony
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Together again...
Starbucks and I made up this morning. She took me back gracefully and lovingly and cooked me up one of her oh-so-delicious cinnamon bagels (toasted, half butter, half plain lite cream cheese). I was strong, but the moment I left her warm embrace, I will admit, I shed a single tear into my grande soy latte Kenyan blend.
-Brett
PS - when you type "majestic mermaid" into google image search, this is what you get:
Majestic, indeed, m'lady.
-Brett
PS - when you type "majestic mermaid" into google image search, this is what you get:
Majestic, indeed, m'lady.
First Year English...
I've noticed that the majority of interactions between coworkers sound more like the practice conversations from first year language courses. I remember thinking in my beginning Spanish class how worthless, stoic and unfeeling our translated interactions were and how noone would ever talk like that in real life. It seems however, now that I have graduated to life in a worthless, stoic and unfeeling office, I find myself having this conversation over and over again:
CoWorker: Hi.
Brett: Hi.
CoW: How are you doing?
Brett: I am fine, and you?
Cow: I am fine. Thank you.
Brett: It is cold today.
CoW: It is. I agree. I am wearing a sweater.
Brett: I am wearing a jacket.
CoW: There are 3 days until Friday.
Brett: Yes. Have a good day.
CoW: Thank you. You as well.
I will talk to you on another day. Thank you.
-Brett
CoWorker: Hi.
Brett: Hi.
CoW: How are you doing?
Brett: I am fine, and you?
Cow: I am fine. Thank you.
Brett: It is cold today.
CoW: It is. I agree. I am wearing a sweater.
Brett: I am wearing a jacket.
CoW: There are 3 days until Friday.
Brett: Yes. Have a good day.
CoW: Thank you. You as well.
I will talk to you on another day. Thank you.
-Brett
Monday, September 24, 2007
Chicago's Hate
I watched the Bears game last night, and if you're in Chicago, you know that it is not a good time to be a Bears fan. However, the city is in a standoff of sorts with the coach (who is, by the way, one of the most respected coaches in the NFL). The downfall is on the shoulders of one man. "Wrecks" Grossman.
I understand Bears fans' frustration, because I have been a fan of a losing team for years at a time, too. What is not helpful is chastising one player into a fragile little shell that he'll never recover from. For this, the fans suck. I don't care if he is a professional athlete, no man can perform with sixty thousand fans screaming in unison for the backup QB and (miraculously) booing with the momentum of eighty thousand at the same time. He looked so tiny and lost.
On the other hand, Lovie's spite against the fans is only perpetuating the problem. He has stayed with Rex just to simply show that HE is the decision maker, and to protect Rex from the inevitable fate that the city's hate is justified. Now we have a cycle that is good for no one. Rex gets worse and so do the fans. We all know he should've been benched last year, but now, the more he plays and the more Lovie has to protect him, the harsher it's going to be to let him go. And by that time Rex's worth in the NFL is completely shot, even as a back up.
Some of this problem though is just a product of the Chicago sports scene. Brett told me about a Cub's game he went to where a fan was heartily booed for five minutes for bobbling a foul ball catch. This is a fan we're talking about here, not an outfielder.
So that's what sports are all about in this city? So juvenile that home fans are booing home fans?
They don't understand that this is going to ruin Rex's life. His confidence is so far gone that he'll never play football again after he is cut. And outside of the NFL, he will always be known as the worst QB in NFL history, or at least the worst to play that long.
I just feel really bad for the guy and it would be in the best interest of both parties if everyone just laid off the guy. The sound of those sneers will haunt him horribly for the rest of his life. Lest we forget, WE are not in the NFL because we are not good enough to play.
-Anthony
I understand Bears fans' frustration, because I have been a fan of a losing team for years at a time, too. What is not helpful is chastising one player into a fragile little shell that he'll never recover from. For this, the fans suck. I don't care if he is a professional athlete, no man can perform with sixty thousand fans screaming in unison for the backup QB and (miraculously) booing with the momentum of eighty thousand at the same time. He looked so tiny and lost.
On the other hand, Lovie's spite against the fans is only perpetuating the problem. He has stayed with Rex just to simply show that HE is the decision maker, and to protect Rex from the inevitable fate that the city's hate is justified. Now we have a cycle that is good for no one. Rex gets worse and so do the fans. We all know he should've been benched last year, but now, the more he plays and the more Lovie has to protect him, the harsher it's going to be to let him go. And by that time Rex's worth in the NFL is completely shot, even as a back up.
Some of this problem though is just a product of the Chicago sports scene. Brett told me about a Cub's game he went to where a fan was heartily booed for five minutes for bobbling a foul ball catch. This is a fan we're talking about here, not an outfielder.
So that's what sports are all about in this city? So juvenile that home fans are booing home fans?
They don't understand that this is going to ruin Rex's life. His confidence is so far gone that he'll never play football again after he is cut. And outside of the NFL, he will always be known as the worst QB in NFL history, or at least the worst to play that long.
I just feel really bad for the guy and it would be in the best interest of both parties if everyone just laid off the guy. The sound of those sneers will haunt him horribly for the rest of his life. Lest we forget, WE are not in the NFL because we are not good enough to play.
-Anthony
Friday, September 21, 2007
Ummm....
So, Anthony just told me that they have been giving stuff away at Starbucks all day.
...
Well, not all day, just between 11 and 2. huh, only three hours? What the fuck is that all about? Right?
And then they want to try to make up for their slight by donating all of the tips to the American Cancer Society?
Whatever, StarJerks. I know what you're all about.
-Brett
Whoops, I'm just out of the frame on the left...
...
Well, not all day, just between 11 and 2. huh, only three hours? What the fuck is that all about? Right?
And then they want to try to make up for their slight by donating all of the tips to the American Cancer Society?
Whatever, StarJerks. I know what you're all about.
-Brett
Whoops, I'm just out of the frame on the left...
T.G.I. TODAY!
So guess what happened today.
Guess.
Seriously.
Fuck off, just guess.
nope.
nope.
Close, but no.
Here, I'll give you a hint: Green Mermaid.
Ew, gross. No.
Alright, It starts with S and ends in RBUCKS.
Yep, that's right folks, the green lady herself moved in downstairs at our building today. Anthony has already dropped the best 4 bucks he's ever spent on a grande iced chai and I, well, I'm just pissed they haven't been giving free shit away all day. I'm holding out for my double shot Americana on the house or a sweet hoodie or something.
Sure, Intelligentsia makes the best coffee around, but I give you my $50 a week because I am too lazy to walk the 4 blocks to get the good stuff. Don't piss me off too much or I might try to stage a coup.
Come on, Starbucks, you're a corporate giant. You can foot the celebratory $3 on opening day to ensure my patronage. Don't be a prude.
Dick.
-Brett
Guess.
Seriously.
Fuck off, just guess.
nope.
nope.
Close, but no.
Here, I'll give you a hint: Green Mermaid.
Ew, gross. No.
Alright, It starts with S and ends in RBUCKS.
Yep, that's right folks, the green lady herself moved in downstairs at our building today. Anthony has already dropped the best 4 bucks he's ever spent on a grande iced chai and I, well, I'm just pissed they haven't been giving free shit away all day. I'm holding out for my double shot Americana on the house or a sweet hoodie or something.
Sure, Intelligentsia makes the best coffee around, but I give you my $50 a week because I am too lazy to walk the 4 blocks to get the good stuff. Don't piss me off too much or I might try to stage a coup.
Come on, Starbucks, you're a corporate giant. You can foot the celebratory $3 on opening day to ensure my patronage. Don't be a prude.
Dick.
-Brett
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Holy Wars and Miniskirts
The news screen in the elevator told me today that Bin Laden is calling for Pakistan to start the Holy War by overthrowing there current leader Pervez Musharraf. Okay, Pervez is not complying with the immediate needs of the Pakistani people. Get him out of there, agreed. But do we need to call it a Holy War? Everything is Holy War worthy these days and frankly, Mr. Laden I think that you are working against yourself here. If you really want to start a Holy War, you should wait and spread the word secretly so that it is a huge surprise when the fury of Islamic prayers is thrust upon us all at once we will all collectively think, "Holy crap! It's the Holy War!"
Likewise, miniskirts are getting so short these days (Thought Brett never seems to notice). The shorter they get, the more we see. And obviously, I (and most other men)am attracted to nice legs and tight buns. It's purely sexual, and I get the feeling that's what they want, fine. However, when I know that short skirt-wearers don't care that during the course of a day, several men WILL see your undies (or lack thereof), it diminishes sexual suspense. And thus, the next time I see a woman in the bare, I'm thinking, "Oh, I saw one of those on the train this morning", instead of "Holy crap! It's the Apex of womanhood!"
-So Mr. Laden, quit being a drama queen.
-Ladies, you're ruining sex.
And also...Brett thinks that he's a better speller than 'spellcheck' and has been challenging the computer lately.
-Anthony
Likewise, miniskirts are getting so short these days (Thought Brett never seems to notice). The shorter they get, the more we see. And obviously, I (and most other men)am attracted to nice legs and tight buns. It's purely sexual, and I get the feeling that's what they want, fine. However, when I know that short skirt-wearers don't care that during the course of a day, several men WILL see your undies (or lack thereof), it diminishes sexual suspense. And thus, the next time I see a woman in the bare, I'm thinking, "Oh, I saw one of those on the train this morning", instead of "Holy crap! It's the Apex of womanhood!"
-So Mr. Laden, quit being a drama queen.
-Ladies, you're ruining sex.
And also...Brett thinks that he's a better speller than 'spellcheck' and has been challenging the computer lately.
-Anthony
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