Wednesday, January 15, 2003

two guys sit in a room. no lights are on, but the tv emits a soft light throughout the room. splashing light here and there. the two guys are on opposite sides of the room, both staring at the tv. Mama's Family is on. Both of them hate Mama's Family, but Beverly Hillbillies reruns stopped at 4 AM. All that is left besides Mama's Family is the Philipino guy with the get rich quick real estate program. That and bowflex. Bowflex is for pussies, they both know that. Neither of them would be caught dead on a bowflex, no matter what the circumstances.

Mama seems pretty damn irate about something or other. Her son Cletus or whatever his name is spilled some jelly on the kitchen floor and is pretty adamant that as the man of the house he should not be responsible for clean up duties. Mama is a little more adamant and Cletus ends up scrounging for paper towels, beginning the clean up, and then being booted from the kitchen in a swirl of obscenities appropriately altered and edited for ma and pa kettle america.

There is a large coffee table in the center of the room, filled to bursting with empty chip bags, books, ash trays, and an open pizza box with 2 slices of pepperoni & pineapple. A window is partially open on the far side of the room which boasts a 70's green carpet. The window looks out onto a courtyard with a small swimming pool. The guy closest to the window sometimes swims in the pool, but the other guy has so far successfully avoided its tempting waters. They are both happy with their respective decisions.

Although they are both exhausted, neither of them makes any indication of going to sleep any time soon. After Mama's Family, NBA Inside Stuff comes on, and soon after that, the nondescript truck will pull up in front of the apartment complex and drop off a bounty of newspapers, none of which are addressed to either of the two gentlemen in question, but that will not stop them from sneaking out there and kiping a pair of them so they can concurrently read the Sporting Green section. After which if they are feeling charitable they may return the papers to the lobby but said disposable literature will more likely take a place of honor on the steadily rising and marginally dangerous teetering stack to the left of the front door to the domicile.

The guy closest to the window has a class at 10 AM. The guy closest to the door has a class at 10:30. These concerns are far and away inconsequential in comparison with the debate as to who is making the jack in the box run. Cuz the sun will be up in a couple hours, and it's bad karma to go to bed on an empty stomach.

The latest Scarface CD - The Fix - is really good. Cop it.