Yo,
Well it's been sometime since I rapped at you so I thought I'd shoot you a holler. If you don't remember me, my name's Tony and nothing much has changed since the last time I wrote you guys. Sure, Dave and Tom moved out, so that's one thing, but in my life, it seems like when one window shuts another door opens and that sure is what happened. My new roomate Steve is the best, or at least the best so far. Last week when the Festiva went down again (I know I'm still drivin' her, but the good times keep coming!) bam! there was Steve right there on I-80 picking me up in his Berreta so we could go get some another quart of oil. I'll tell you folks the Festiva keeps on ridin' but she's draining me dry!
But that's not the only thing that so great about Steve. Yeah sure, he likes to party as much as I do, but he isn't a guy who just crashes on your couch after a bash. Man, it was like every fucking time I was the one going around picking up the bottles after a party and Dave and Tom just slept on the couch and chair; watching the Two Girls a Guy and a Pizza Place re-runs. At least with Steve now he actually picks up his shit.
I know that isn't what you want to hear about though, and you know me, I'm always going to give you guys the skinny on whats happening to the T man. What happened with me and Arelene? Well that's though, if you guys remember I left you last time after I was on a stone cold chill with some RUSH playing co-pilot in the 'stiva. Well, shortly after I did that J on the side of the road I got a bit of a change of heart. I mean here I was 32, outside of town and freaked out because a girl wanted to be my girlfriend. I mean I asked myself, was the fucking good? and the answer was yes, yes it was. Then I asked myself, do i have to pay for shit? and the answer was no, no I didn't. So basically friends ol' Tony did a little bit of life math and noticed that T is up several good lays and down nada'. So I thought to myself "what the fuck"?
So once I get into town and get the electric tape to close up the hole in the fan belt, I drive straight over to Arlene's to sort this shit out. I get to her building and have to fight to get a parking spot, it's always like that ( I swear that someone swoops back for that spot by the truck before I get there every time),and once I finally find one I head on up to her floor. Now usually, when I go I call first but I'm about to formally attach myself to a woman so I just go the fuck up there.
I get to the door walk in and shes watching T.V., some shit about Egypt, wearing that Loony Tunes T-Shirt that she knows I think is hysterical. I tell her what I discovered during my cruise, at least what I discovered minus the poon-tang revelation, and then BANG before I know it we've screwed and she's asleep with me watching Night Court and sipping on a MGD. Maybe I'll get use to this.
With me life's been fairly okay and I'm sure it's been that way for you. It's taken me,the royal me, sometime to get back into blogging after a recent 'bout with the futility of communication, some bad reviews and an all to stocked mescaline/Nick Nolte buffet. Now though, with those things in the rear-view mirror, I have the ability to look forward and, let me tell you, the road is paved with kick ass blog entries soaked in the blood of my enemies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( I wish there was a way to write bullets shooting a things, maybe: t---------)
It is without a doubt interesting getting home for the holidays. It appears to be human nature not to accomplish things for self worth but perhaps accomplish things to bring them home with you for thanksgiving. Every Uncle and Cousin is rife with stories of competition bested and women won. The only truths that you really hear are shared by the older women over coffee discussing that "Brad really isn't doing all that well, in fact they think his wife is seeing somone else." A set of circumstances that never fail to amaze me, and sorry Brad, never catch me offguard.
It constantly seems the less important a thing is, the more important it would be to your grandmother. To test this theory (note, this experiment requires two sets of grandparents, if this isn't the case I'm sorry, but take solace in the reality that you could borrow most and they wouldn't know the difference) tell one set you've acheived Nirvana, tell them your soul is at peace and the universe makes perfect sense to you, you understand your presence.
Tell the other ones you got promoted at Goldman/Sachs.
See which one does what.
That being said, as I don't like to end posts on a sad note, I'm sure that most places grandparents are more cool than mine and less concerned with the material world. In fact I'm fairly sure grandparents like that live somewhere in the southwest. Family is an interesting construct.
I hope all you fans out there had an excellent Thanksgiving and truly settle on something better than cranberry sauce out of a can. At least mash that shit up before you serve it.
Savor the Day,
A.J.S.
Interesting Trivia-When was the first thanksgiving?---------------1621. Also the birthday of my grandparents. Funny how things work out.
