Isolation Thought

In typical white trash action, my neighbors decide to load up a U-Haul (Are they all leaving? Stay tuned.) after 8:30 p.m. That means the associated noise, arguing and, of course, stupidity all night. Idiots don't know it'll rain on them shortly.

Anyhow, each time I think about my best friend on the planet, I can't help but think about the theme to the "Courtship of Eddie's Father". Of course, you have to sub female parts for the male parts. Regardless, she never fails to make me laugh. But I have to preface this next episode with a mea culpa. I am notorious for not using my cellphone to its fullest capabilities. Therefore, when anyone calls me via the celly, I typically do not have it on my person. More than likely, it is in my car, and I miss calls all the time. Then I have a failing of not checking voicemails and find out days later I was trying to be contacted. So, on Friday, she has already invited me to imbibe on an earlier message at 5:45 which I didn't get, which suggested she (BF), her husband (Male Co-conspirator = MCC) and another friend (Female Co-Conspirator = FCC) were going to Johnny Mango's for some drinks. When I arrived home after the Tribe game about 1:00, I had received at least 6 messages, between 8:40 and 9:00 wondering about my whereabouts.

Here are some of the safer examples of what I heard (I feel like I've just deciphered Nixon's tapes):

Call (amongst others) at 8:38 p.m.

BF (in a delightfully loud, drunken, slurring voice): "Ya goddamn bastard!! You don't pick up your cellphone. You don't pick up your home phone. God knows where ya are. You know what, your friends want to know where you are. Well, we wanna come party with you."

FCC: "Absolutely."

BF: "All right, I'm goin' to the bathroom. Buh-Bye."

Call (amongst others) at 9:00 p.m.

BF: "You know, this is why I can't get a hold of you. What the hell? All right, what time is it? Somebody tell me what time it is."

MCC: "It is right now..."

BF: "It is right now...at..."

FCC: "On standby."

BF: "Yeah, we're on standby. It is right now..."

FCC: "9:00!!"

BF: "It is 9:00 on Friday night and...you know, we don't know where you are. You could be at the game, you could be at Alesci's, but no. You won't answer your cellphone, do ya, ya bastard?

FCC: "Let him know (unintelligible)"

BF: "And we could be drinkin', uh..."

FCC: Tell him we're into (unintelligible)

BF: "Whatever...we're into...it doesn't matter. He knows he doesn't wanna drink with us."

FCC: (unintelligible)

BF: "NO. NO!!! YOU DON"T WANNA DRINK WITH US TONIGHT!!! NO!!!"

Whatever Johnny Mango's is serving, I'll take two. Maybe three.

Meal of Links

Some guy wants to change the key of "The Star-Spangled Banner" from B flat to G major. What's next? Della Reese singing "Seven Nation Army"?

AARP wants us to never retire. Can you imagine handling the present generation as a future worker at CVS? Please let me win Mega Millions.

Jools Holland laments the loss of Ray Charles. My favorite Ray Charles bit was on "SNL" when he took the Evelyn Woodhead Speed Reading course. He read so fast, his fingers were getting blisters.

Exercise Yard

My brother and I and a couple of friends went to Parnell's Pub for the France vs. England soccer match at Euro 2004. First of all, there was an unadvertised cover charge of $20, which is a pisser. The English were singing in the pub (at least until the end). Nothing like hearing a song with the tune of "Skip to my Lou": "Who put the ball in the Froggy's net? Who put the ball in the Froggy's net? Who put the ball in the Froggy's net? Super Frankie Lankard." But it allowed us to see what may have been one of the worst losses in soccer history. A loss so devastating you would think they had Cleveland on their jerseys, instead of England. Becks misses a penalty in the second half and the English blow a 1-0 lead in the 90th minute and lose, 2-1.

Visitor

None, it's Sunday.