boundcreature

i slept really late today, so its probably gonna be really fucking difficult for me to get to bed tonight. i did not manage to get a SINGLE thing done today (well, i got like half of the emails sent out for the Aging Punks Unanimous CD Swap I planned a few months ago)...

so, I woke up late and watched THE SANDLOT with my roommate, lindsay (she also joined me in my standard prison workout -- push-ups and crunches, but she only did one set, lightweight!). then after i showered by flashlight (because our bathroom light is burned out) we ate the worst chinese food on earth and started watching ROOKIE OF THE YEAR. i'll tell ya, we kept seeing previews for that fucking clownshoes RACING STRIPES movie and i'll i gotta say is that they made much better shitty movies fifteen years ago then they do now.

also, because i watched the first twenty minutes of ROOKIE OF THE YEAR (which, coincidentally enough, featured gary busey) i got to remember the classic line from that movie when henry moves his pitching arm forward and accidentally whacks the doctor (his arm healed tight, so now he is THE BEST PITCHER EVER!!! but still a kid... sounds like a brilliant idea for a movie... but i digress):

doctor: okay, now move your arm forward
WHACK!
doctor: oh my... funky-butt-lovin'
kids: did he just say funky butt lovin'?

oh my god what a pile of hilarious shit. i am soooo not gary busey for watching that movie all of the way through (even though gary busey is in it... now THERE is a paradox for you).

so then i fucked off from the tv room and called chris.

a little background:

there are two boys on the planet who are not my blood, but who i love like they were my brothers. i met each of them close to fourteen years ago. the three of us stopped being friends a very long time ago, we've just always been more like family (shit, sometimes i think our parents get confused over whose kid belongs sleeping in which house). its like a thing that is unquestionable at this point. one of the boys, as you might have guessed, is The Pants the other is a kid named chris.

chris and the pants go back quite a ways, chris moved across the street from the pants a few years before i moved into the neighborhood. at some point in junior high, the three of us became inseparable. the pants and i have grown close by constantly being around each other over the years (we would be like the love that starts with a spark of attraction and grows into something awesome over the years) whereas chris and i were immediate like different shades of the same person (we were like love at first sight, a volatile blend of two people so like each other that they couldn't help but be so caustic together).

chris and i were both raised by single mom's who worked as waitresses at night to support us. to make a long story short, he and i raised each other. which made us into these rebellious little kids who couldn't follow the rules (and... it also made us giant, sensitive mama's boys... seriously, chris actually tried to physically assault our vice principal for trying to fuck with his relationship with his mom... he got expelled, but that's another story).

at the beginning of our senior year, three minutes after we each entered the building, we got bitched out by separate teachers, it set the course for the WHOLE FUCKING YEAR. for a while, it was us vs the administration. we knew how it was gonna play out, so we made a pact: if one of us got suspended, the other had to skip those days to keep him company. we decided to fight, not by rebelling, but by studying the student handbook and purposefully catching them in their errors, etc.

they didn't like this.

by the end of the first week, we had both been sent to the inschool suspension room. by october, i had been suspended for ten days for walking out of the principals office when he was bitching at me for being late six times in a row (i used to stay up all night drawing and watching movies, so i very rarely made it on time).

the whole year sucked really. then chris got expelled and i had to finish it on my own. i did graduate. but i should've dropped out.

anyway, the point of my story, is that about six weeks ago chris finally left pennsylvania and moved to florida to live with his mom and work 7 days a week and save money until his life made more sense to him. i haven't talked to him since i was home for thanksgiving... but his ex-girlfriend found me online the other day and gave me his phone number (he ALWAYS loses mine, he's like a little fucking kid sometimes).

and i got to talk to him for about an hour. he is really sad about his relationship ending (they had been together for four years, his first and only love, etc). i was telling him about how i felt when my long-ass relationship ended so many years ago, and he just said this totally awesome thing to me:

chris: no, its not like that at all... it's more like how i felt when you went away to college, like a part of me was missing...

i love that kid. i felt the same way when i left, like i was leaving him behind, like we should've been tackling our lives together. he was one of the MANY reasons i quit school and moved back home. we lived together for a year and co-published the first issue of WE MUST BECOME OUR HEROES together. then it all fell apart (the girl kinda fucked a lot of stuff up, he fucked-up the rest of it...).

but, that's my chris story.

***

so i went out dancing at manray tonight and i learned something very, very important about myself and, if you don't mind, i'd like to share it with you.

well, here goes:

dancing to "goody two shoes" with a ridiculously cute girl is totally fucking rad!