house drama
we name this place the magic theatre
it has three stages:
the spiritual womb, staring brian and myself
the brewry, staring joe and andrew
and the to be announced, featuring tiffany
(and all the boys who creep into her room)
i told tiffany when she moved in that we have an open door policy.
"if the door is open, i think i'm free to come in," i told her. "and if the door is closed. well, then you just trapped me in."
funny joke, eh? it's even funnier when you consider that tiffany's knobs and locks are busted so her door can't close.
tiffany was amused. tiffany's boyfriend in new mexico was not amused. he's worried that she's going to leave him for one of us.
"but i'm not going to leave him!" she protested. "sure, i fooled around with some of you guys but it was just fun. it didn't mean anything."
some? yeah. a couple, actualy.
someone posted on the whiteboard downstairs
someone is shitting all over the toilet seat. i am going to watch everybody go in and out of the bathroom so i will find out who is doing it. if you want privacy, you guys will stop living like barbarians and clean up after yourselves. i will find you and you will stop.
oh my. big brother is watching. i'm so afraid.
i considered writing on the board:
i shit on the toilet seat.
i shit in the sink.
i shit in your hat
and i don't care what you think!
okay. the temptation overwealmed me and i just did it.
sometimes i feel sorry for everybody else that lives in our house. they have to put up with us hoolagains in the attic. we drink every night. we play loud music. we write obscene things on the white board.
allen complains sometimes. but allen also loves us.
yesterday, he came up and talked to me for an extended period of time about the trials and tribulations of life. how he's marrying the puerto rican girl so that she can come to america and bring her family. how as soon as things start to get better, they always seem to get worse again. how you fight so hard to help the people who seem to work against you.
if it wasn't hard, it wouldn't be called life, friend.
andrew buys a lot of alcohol. we've been known to drain quarts and quarts of booze overnight. and it's about time that the rest of us start chipping in for alcohol because i think andrew is getting a slight bit frusterated.
but he's going to keep buying alcohol. and nobody likes to get drunk alone.
joe asked me to meet him for coffee.
yesterday, brian went with us. since we live together now, sometimes i take this whole situation for granted. it truly is amazing how close we are.
it makes me smile.
it has three stages:
the spiritual womb, staring brian and myself
the brewry, staring joe and andrew
and the to be announced, featuring tiffany
(and all the boys who creep into her room)
i told tiffany when she moved in that we have an open door policy.
"if the door is open, i think i'm free to come in," i told her. "and if the door is closed. well, then you just trapped me in."
funny joke, eh? it's even funnier when you consider that tiffany's knobs and locks are busted so her door can't close.
tiffany was amused. tiffany's boyfriend in new mexico was not amused. he's worried that she's going to leave him for one of us.
"but i'm not going to leave him!" she protested. "sure, i fooled around with some of you guys but it was just fun. it didn't mean anything."
some? yeah. a couple, actualy.
someone posted on the whiteboard downstairs
someone is shitting all over the toilet seat. i am going to watch everybody go in and out of the bathroom so i will find out who is doing it. if you want privacy, you guys will stop living like barbarians and clean up after yourselves. i will find you and you will stop.
oh my. big brother is watching. i'm so afraid.
i considered writing on the board:
i shit on the toilet seat.
i shit in the sink.
i shit in your hat
and i don't care what you think!
okay. the temptation overwealmed me and i just did it.
sometimes i feel sorry for everybody else that lives in our house. they have to put up with us hoolagains in the attic. we drink every night. we play loud music. we write obscene things on the white board.
allen complains sometimes. but allen also loves us.
yesterday, he came up and talked to me for an extended period of time about the trials and tribulations of life. how he's marrying the puerto rican girl so that she can come to america and bring her family. how as soon as things start to get better, they always seem to get worse again. how you fight so hard to help the people who seem to work against you.
if it wasn't hard, it wouldn't be called life, friend.
andrew buys a lot of alcohol. we've been known to drain quarts and quarts of booze overnight. and it's about time that the rest of us start chipping in for alcohol because i think andrew is getting a slight bit frusterated.
but he's going to keep buying alcohol. and nobody likes to get drunk alone.
joe asked me to meet him for coffee.
yesterday, brian went with us. since we live together now, sometimes i take this whole situation for granted. it truly is amazing how close we are.
it makes me smile.