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

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

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)

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:

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

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