I had the scariest dream.

I was in my house childhood home and I was doing a load of laundry, when this overwhelming feeling of anger and sadness took over my body.  It was the worst feeling that I have ever had in my entire life.  I said to myself out loud, "Oh God those chumps down the street murdered your sister!"

So I ran to the cabinet under the sink and got my gun, which I guess is where I would keep it if I had ever owned one.  

I ran down to the "Chumps" house (who I remembered vaguely as being some trouble makers I knew once upon a time).  I busted through the door, and saw that they were having a medium sized party.  There was a keg and about ten people standing around that failed to notice the sweaty ball of desperate rage that just rifled through their house.  I broke through the first door to the left and began shooting a guy in his bed screaming my sister's name.  I moved on quickly, to the kitchen where most of the party was hanging out and fired a few shots into the crowd, and scared myself, because of the look of terror on everyone's face.  It totally shocked me so I continued on through the house to seek out some answers and for some reason I knew that I could get them in the back room of the house.

I went in the room and it was my best friend laying on a bed asleep with a baby on his shoulder.  I freaked out because I had not known that he had had a baby.  Quietly I creeped up to him and put a gun to his head, and spoke in a normal tone "Why the fuck did you guys kill my sister?"

By this time, the other people at the party had caught up to me in the room and they had plenty of guns themselves.  They were screaming at me, my best friend was staring at me, I was screaming at him, it was complete chaos so I did what most people do in the movies when they have a gun and everyone is screaming.  I fired two rounds in the air and everyone shut up.  I realized that I only had one bullet left, so in front of a bunch of paranoid, pissed off gun bearing partiers, i said "Fuck, I only have one bullet left...Stupid!  Stupid to say that now!"

The other gunners realized their advantage and started to close in on me and I screamed "Why the fuck did you guys kill my sister?"  My best friend replied "We didn't kill your sister.  It was a joke.  Calm down.  You're in a lot of trouble."

This was too much for me to handle.  I thought for a moment.  I was still confused and desperate, so I sprinted for the window and dove out of it unscathed even though the gunners were shooting for me.  I flew gracefully into a dive roll and got up quickly.  There in front of me was a bike that my sister had gotten for me earlier in my life.  So I hopped on and rode as fast as I could.  I rode until I was sure that I had made enough turns and gone so fast that they would not be able to find me tonight.  

So, naturally I came up on a ghetto basketball pick-up game.  I got off my bike, picked up the losers and played the game of my life.  As we were finishing up and I was drying the sweat off my body, the gunners from the party caught up with me.  They got really close to me and they all had these disgusting smiles on their faces.  I asked why they were smiling and they told me that it was the best joke in the world and that I was going away for a long time.  I flipped out and tried to hit everyone in my face.

This short blond haired young guy put a gun to my face and instead of resorting to fear, I became overwhelmed with the guilty memory of having shot up their party.  I asked politely, the guy in front of me, "Did I kill anyone?"  

He answered with a giggle, "Yeah man, you killed my twin brother and you're going away for a long time."  His giggle increased.  The rest of the guys followed suit and laughed at me.  I siezed this moment and smacked the gun out of his hand and ran to my bike.  

I got on and started to ride away, the guys remembered and chased after yelling.

It was then that I had the epiphany and spoke out loud to myself.  "If you run now, you'll never stop runnin'."

The guys were close enough to hear me say it and buckled at the knees with laughter.  I was humiliated and defeated.  It took my breath away and then I woke up.

What does that mean guys?

-Anthony

The Oscars

I, for the first time ever, watched the Oscars all the way through, from start to finish.

John Stewart: You are everything i have ever wanted to be. Possibly the best hosting job I have ever seen. I have only one gripe and it is big. (read on)

Academy House Band: You are inappropriate and ruin the best moments in some peoples' lives. You cut everyone off. I realize that there are certain time restraints, but there are also some very unnecessary montages, as well as nominating 3 ridiculously high maintenance musical numbers from Enchanted. They each lasted like 10-12 minutes, complete with thirty-dancer cast and ironically cut way into the thank you speech of Marketa Irglova who, along with her musical partner Glan hansard, beat out the 3 Enchanted numbers nominated for best original song.

My Biggest Gripe: Why is it SO important that everyone mention the fact that screenplay writer Diablo Cody, used to be an "exotic dancer". Yes it is a little interesting tid bit of trivia, but it's not SOOO crazy that someone, somewhere, needed to pay bills and stripped for a while. What if she only did it for three months and the entire world has labeled her as "The EX-STRIPPER"? She wrote the most charming script of the year and everyone finds it so ironic that an ex-dancer had the perspective and intelligence to write a script. Give her that! She did it. Don't try to "understand" it, like it's some giant paradox. And John Stewart was the one who brought it up. He delivers perfect joke after perfect joke then mentions Her stripper past. Granted, it was a funny enough joke to be there, but so was everything else he said, I'm just sure that she is sick to death of that title. Anyway, Diablo Cody, I love you and your work. Keep writing and I'll keep watching. Maybe some day we'll all get over your "dark past" (B.S.).

-Anthony

Okay. I'm ready.

Well, in relation to my last post (a month ago), let me tell you that things turned out as well as they possibly could have. I know it's old news, but God! I am sooo glad that the Patriots lost to:

1) New York: The worst possible scenario for any Boston fan. Those pitiful Bostonians could practically hear the victory parade storming and screaming down the streets of New York. And they will be hearing about this for eternity. Just one more notch in the belt of those "poor, cursed losers". Well guess what....You fucking cheated! AND you got caught! And now we're finding out that you've been cheating since 2000!!!!! Your first fucking Superbowl! You're nothing, Pats! You're forgotten in the long line of cheaters and thieves that have risen in the past decade. And you're not even at the top of THAT list! So. Boston. Why don't you all just get divorces and try to integrate yourselves into some other regular, modest form of civilization. Try to lay off the pride and beefed up accent you all seem to turn up whenever you're out of town. Cause it was all for nothing.

2) Another Manning: I read an article online written by a clunky Boston sympathizer that was completely bland other than one comment he made something like : "...The bad news is that we have to go against the one of the best pass rushing lines in the league. The good news is that we are playing against a Manning." WHICH, by the way is comnplete bullshit, considering the fact that Peyton pulled off the best comeback in playoff history against them last year, then went on to win the Superbowl. That's two straight, heartbreaking losses to Mannings. Not only that, We'll be seeing you next year too, guys and we ain't getting weaker with our young defense and balanced offense. Dungy's back, so we'll see.

I saw a man today with a Patriot's hat, Jacket and jersey walking next to the bus I was on. I had my Colts hat on, I knocked on the window, he looked up, and I fingered the numbers "18-1". He flipped me off. Hehe, just like those unimaginative followers (Bostonians), to come up with "the bird". Life's a long song, right Jethro?

Anthony

The End of an Era...

Well, it happened again. The Colts defense, once again folded up and let the opposing team run all over their foreheads. I don't know what to think anymore. It's like the Colts have been SO good for so long, (the best for three of those years), and one superbowl just isn't enough. We had a window to create a dynasty, and we didn't capitalize. However, we have seen the trend for the franchise tendencies. SOFT. Yes our defense played well the whole year, Peyton was solid, we had a balanced attack on offense, but it never showed rebounding abilities. We've never put the knife in a twisted it to end a game that meant something. We're too professional and we lack the killer instincts it takes to dominate the league.

If we lose Dungy, it's over. For me, and everyone else.

Anthony :(

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year from all/both of us on the Brett and Anthony are ...... Workin' for the Weekend Team.

In the spirit of the Newest Year around, let's just go ahead and take 2008 to think back on 2007 as the best year yet. Life will resume in 2009, but in the meantime, I want you to just put your thinking caps on and imagine all of the joy and triumph we shared last year.

Sure our foreign policy continued to fold under the weight of supreme ignorance, and yes the housing market is feeling the pinch more than any time in recent memory, and of course I know that if you listen really hard you can actually hear the icecaps melting, and right I get it that Anthony's house burned to a pile of indiscernible ashes, but think about all of the good stuff that happened, too.

Are you thinking about it? Keep thinking about. That's it.

Awesome guys! Way to go. Now hold that for about 12 months.

See you in 2009.

-Brett

domestication

I was sitting here thinking of things to write and I wanted to make it positive, it being the new year and all. I asked myself "hey Anthony, what are you really excited about right now?" The answer:

1. My shower mit.

2. Crystal Light lemon Iced Tea.


Now. The shower mit.



It is exactly what it sounds like, and maybe i am late on this phenom, but i can't think of anything more practical than having a soapy mit on my hand when I am in the shower trying to get as clean as I can. George got it for me as a second option to a loofah and i feel a little guilty that it was a second option. It shoulda been first. Loofah? Yeah, right, more like Goofah.

2. Secondively* (Daflos's term), Crystal Light. Just had a little taste of that again, and boy did it shoot nostalgic jolts throughout my mind. Thoughts came back to me from tombs deep in the basement of my cerebelum inches awazy from being forgotten forever. Conversations/arguements started back up where I rejuvinated my point of veiw and even admitted I could have been more understanding. Then, when I was done pounding two full pints, I felt better, not bloated.

-Anthony

Happy New Year Everyone!

Mom And ME Watchin' Moovies

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