The Adventures of Radar Reese
Current mood: dorky
Category: Life

Editor Note: I've decided to go ahead and abandon THE MANY LOVES series because I don't really feel like dwelling on the past, and to be frank, it was already starting to bore the hell out of me.  Ironically enough, many of my ex-girlfriends have accused me of bailing when things start to become difficult or mundane.  They might just be on to something. 

  DIG THIS!!!

Money has been kind of tight lately.  So when my friend "Ted" offered to give me a free haircut a few weeks ago, I was more than happy to take him up on it.  As free hair cuts go, I got exactly what I paid for, but that's another story entirely.  (According to a friend's two-year-old, my new hair cut makes me look like "a big baby.")  Being straight men without a hair salon between the two of us, we agreed to meet at my place to perform a shady, back alley haircut.

My apartment was a complete and utter disaster area, which is not uncommon for a Sunday afternoon.  So I decided to spend the hour before "Ted" arrived giving it a good once over. (I know an hour doesn't seem like a lot of time, but you have no idea how small my apartment is.  While I was picking up trash, vacuuming, dusting, and performing all the other tasks necessary to make my hovel seem less like a cave and more like a poorly maintained drunk tank, it occurred to me that this was as good a time as any to empty out Farley's litter box.  So I carefully picked up Farley's litter box, carried it outside, and emptied it directly into the dumpster.  I traditionally empty his box every other week while scooping it daily, but "Ted" was going to all the trouble of coming across town to give me a haircut reminiscent of Sluggo; so my sense of decorum dictated that he not be subjected to the rank odor of cat excrement lazily buried in synthetic sand.  Just call me Miss Manners.

After doing a little more light cleaning, I realized I still hadn't refilled Farley's litter box.   Farley attempted to bring it to my attention by meowing insistently, but he's usually so talkative that I paid him no heed.  (Farley has actually decided to designate nonstop meowing as his response to everything from "I could use a treat" to "You're watching Studio 60."  So I think I'm justified in taking his banter with a grain of salt.)  When the box's status finally came to my attention, I was shocked to discover that we were out of kitty litter. 

This put me in an awkward position.  I had approximately twenty minutes before "Ted" was scheduled to arrive, but I also had a cat with nervous bowels and no kitty litter.  I really only had two options: Either 1) Teach Farley how to use toilet paper, or 2) Make a mad dash to a store that carried Johnny Cat and hope I could make it back before renting The Rug Doctor became mandatory.  Lacking the patience to teach an animal who is still fascinated by dangling string the ins and outs of wiping, I decided to take option two. 

Driving like a man possessed, I arrived at the store in record time.  Panicking at the thought of Farley sitting at home trying to hold it by crossing all four of his legs, I sprinted into the store and ran right to the pet care section.  As I caught my breath I was horrified to see that there was NO LITTER on display!!!  This couldn't be happening!!!  What was I going to do?!?

Thinking quickly, I approached the first employee I saw, an older Hispanic woman who happened to be stoking shelves and asked her where the kitty litter was.  She smiled politely and responded "No hablo Ingles."  Shit, it'd been six years since I had taken Spanish in college, and even back then I had the verbal skills of a three-year-old.  I desperately pored through my limited Spanish vocabulary, trying to piece together anything that would help to express what I needed.  The fate of my very carpet laid in the balance  (A scenario like this had not occurred to me when I was slacking off in Spanish class, or I certainly would have played a little less Road Rash 3-D and taken my studies more seriously.)  The only applicable word that came to mind was "gato." For those of you that don't habla espanol, "gato" is Spanish for "cat." "Gatto… ummm…. Gattoo…. ummm," I stammered.  "Si," the old woman said while nodding her head slowly.  I just couldn't do it.  I couldn't for the life of me think of a Spanish word that in any way could relate to litter or bathroom. 

All I could envision was Farley soiling my couch and christening my HDTV.  THE HORROR!!!  THE HORROR!!!  I tried in vain to communicate with this woman, but whatever fragmented pieces of Spanish I still possessed had now escaped me completely.  I was desperate, and desperate times call for desperate measures.  Seeing few other options, I swallowed my pride and began to pantomime defecating on the floor and then burying my excrement with my "front paws." 

This ridiculous spectacle put the old woman into a compulsive fit of laughter.  The sight of a man in his late twenties pretending to squat and bury had her practically rolling around on the floor.  Five minutes later she calmly led me to the back room, where more kitty litter was sitting on a pallet, waiting to be restocked, but not before stopping and regaling several of her co-workers with a tale about the bizarre piece of performance art that she'd just witnessed.  This caused them all a great deal of amusement, conversely causing me a great deal of embarrassment.  I'm still actually too embarrassed to go back into that store.

Our story does end on a happy note.  I found Farley anxiously waiting for me at the front door when I arrived home.  He had been able to put nature's call on hold.  Now that's love.

Editors Note:  Please learn from my mistakes.  The proper terminology to use if God turns his back on you and puts you in a similar situation is GATO BANO.  They're two little words, but oh what a difference they make!!!   

Currently listening : How To Save A Life By The Fray Release date: 13 September, 2005

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The Many Loves of Radar Reese Part 1
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Romance and Relationships

"If you really wanted to screw me up, you should've gotten to me earlier."

                                                                              - Rob in High Fidelity

As some of you may know I recently rejoined the single scene after an eight or nine month (I get confused about when you're actually supposed to start counting) relationship came to an end.  It would be tempting to use this forum to show how I was right and she was wrong, but to be honest I wasn't entirely in the right, and she wasn't entirely in the wrong. 

While I was going through my traditional post breakup routine which mostly consists of drinking many $2 bottles of Charles Shaw and listening to the album Surfacing by Sarah McLachlan on a continuous loop (What can I say?  I'm part of the Dawson's Creek generation.) I began to contemplate many of my past relationships.  In a gesture reminiscent of High Fidelity I thought I'd put together a list of some of my more memorable past dabblings into couplehood to give you some insight into what has made me the cynic I am today.

**Please note the names below have been changed to prevent litigation.** 

You've Got...Male
Current mood: bouncy

Anyone that knows me at all will tell you that I'm a rabid NetFlix* junkie, but in my defense who wouldn't love receiving their favorite episodes of Dawson's Creek in the mail without the massive inconvenience of having to put on pants and go to BLOCKBUSTER.  Yesterday I had a NetFlix experience filled with such angst and social awkwardness it might as well have been torn from the script for an upcoming episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. 

When I got home from work last night I went through my usual routine: petting my kitten Farley, cracking open an Old Milwaukee, refilling Farleys food and water dishes, turning on the tube to catch the end of King of the Hill, and picking up and sorting through my mail. 

While I was sorting through my mail I was glad to see several NetFlix envelopes within the pile.  There were actually three NetFlix envelopes in my pile even though I'd received one of my three DVDs on Tuesday.  This would have seemed out of the ordinary to me if I'd really been paying attention, but the sight of those red envelopes filled me with such glee that I involuntarily dropped the rest of my mail and tore open my NetFlix like a little kid on Christmas morning. 

"What would the first disc be?" I asked myself.  "Another installment of Barry Levinson's gripping police procedural Homicide: Life on the Streets or Noah Baumbach's sublime and melancholy coming of age comedy Kicking and Screaming**?"  Nope it was a gay soft-core film with a correctional facility theme,*** and before you ask, yes I'm positive it wasn't an episode of Oz.

Before I continue with this story, I feel the need to take a moment to put forth a few disclaimers.  First of all, I want to state that I am in fact a firm supporter of the gay community, and while I myself an not a homosexual, I believe that no one should be denied their civil and/or constitutional rights based on their race, creed, or sexual orientation.  Secondly, on the off chance that this post could land me a lawsuit, let me clarify that NetFlix does not offer hard-core pornography to its members.  Any erotic materials made available by NetFlix are definitely within the realm of the soft-core fare made available on cable channels such as Cinemax after 1:30am.

Regardless of my socially conscious philosophies, I was understandably shocked and confused by the title and description that met my eye after opening the first envelope.  This was definitely not from my NetFlix queue!  Upon further scrutiny, I discovered that the envelope was in fact not addressed to me, and that it had been delivered to my apartment by accident****.  The envelope was actually addressed to "Kevin" an employee of the pet shop located two doors down from my building. 

This left me with a dilemma.  Having accidentally learned what film was on the "coming soon" marquee at "Kevin's" Home Theatre, could I really walk into his place of business and hand him an envelope that had clearly been opened without embarrassing the both of us?  It must be noted that I have a reasonably infantile sense of humor.  So an uncontrollable giggle fit was entirely within the realm of possibility.  I'm pretty sure this would have been hilarious to me regardless of the erotica's orientation.  Skinemax is just funny.  I didn't make the rules.

Still not entirely clear on my game plan, I walked slowly over to the pet shop fairly certain I would never be able to purchase Farley's IAMS there ever again.  Fortunately, or unfortunately, the pet shop was already closed.  I could have easily slipped it into the mail slot, but there was no way of knowing if one of "Kevin's" curious co-workers would find it before he did and expose a lifestyle choice he very well may have been keeping to himself.  There was no way I was going to be responsible for outing a complete stranger to his co-worker's regardless of the fact he was having skin flicks delivered to work.  So I sealed it up and sent it back to NetFlix.

I guess it could have been worse.  He could have ordered Gigli.    

* NetFlix is actually a great source for both art house and foreign films along with many intellectually stimulating television series produced by cable channels such as A&E and The History Channel.  I can't recommend NetFlix enough.  BTW- They also have American Ninja 1, 2, 3, 4, & 5.

**This film stared Eric Stoltz and was released in 1995.  It is not to be confused with Will Ferrell's cinematic meditation on children's organized soccer of the same name that was released in 2005.

***I swear to God if I could remember the film's title I would totally post it here, but apparently some less progressive portions of my mind have decided to begin blocking out these memories. 

****It's these kinds of sloppy mistakes that make me seriously doubt the possibility of any vast governmental conspiracies.  If the United States Government can't deliver the mail competently, I sincerely doubt they'd be able to keep an automotive engine that runs on water under wraps.            

Currently listening : Want One By Rufus Wainwright Release date: 23 September, 2003

2:42 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

My Dinner with Andre (the freakin'??? giant)
Current mood: amused

After rehearsal (Yes, you can actually rehearse improv without robbing it of its spontaneity) I went to a dinner party on Saturday Night.  Nothing too fancy (I was able to wear my "Earth Women are Delicious" T-Shirt) more or less just the gathering or 6 people to celebrate some friends moving into their new home. 

Anyone that really knows me will be aware of my tendency to collect strange folks, and this meal proved to be a gold mine.  One of the women at the party was a beast.  She was exactly ugly or fat, just really, really f-ing big.  She also had huge hairy forearms that put mine to shame.  While we sat around enjoying pre-dinner cocktails this giantess could not keep still.  She actually spent the majority of the early evening rearranging the host couples furniture, and re-hanging their drapes.  (Keep in mind this wasn't her home.  She just felt compelled to do it.)  I later found out that she used to be an interior decorator, but it still seamed extremely rude for her to be making unsolicited adjustments to someone else's home. 

During dinner things go even weirder when she decided to make negative comments about the Mexican Labor Force (I hate when people bash minorities, especially ones that seem to have a stronger work ethic that most of the North Americans I know.)  For that matter it just seemed rude that she felt that it was ok to talk that way in front of almost perfect strangers.  How does she know I'm not part Mexican?

Mark had prepared pork chops and apple sauce (feel free to insert your own Pete Brady impression here) and Giant-Woman actually ate 3 of them.  That's right 3, and these weren't little chops or anything I actually only had one.  By the time she began wolfing down the 3^rd she actually cast aside her silverware and chewed it directly off of the bone.  I swear to god she seemed to de-evolve before my very eyes.  When she finished gnawing on the chop she actually cracked the bone with her bare hands and sucked out the marrow.  It was like sitting across the table from the missing link. 

No experience is wasted there's got to be a sketch in here somewhere.

Currently listening : Miami Vice By Original Soundtrack Release date: 25 July, 2006

8:57 AM - 4 Comments - 3 Kudos - Add Comment

Back to Bloging
Current mood: anxious

Well here goes nothing, I've finally defected from blogster over to myspace.

I don't know where to begin so I'll just talk about last night.  I'm in an improv group out here, and we had a pretty good show last night.  We do a 20 minute montague based on only one suggestion.  It's full of funny people, and to be honest I'm kind of intimidated them.  I sometimes worry that I'm not good enough to be a part of the group.

 Last night I had a few good sceenes, but I let myself get steamrolled a few times.  By that I sometimes desolve into the background like the Predator when my teammates make strong choices.  The director wants me to howl at the moon and he told me all I did was coooo at it.  I need to be more aggresive which is really not my strong suit.  I guess that's the good part about being in a weekly show.  I'll have the chance to learn from my mistakes every week.    

Currently listening : Best of Bowie By David Bowie Release date: 22 October, 2002

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