Better still: talk loudly ^and carry a big stick.

I


  came across Matthew Hart as I pedaled back home from work this morning. He and I went to the Italian Villa Waffle House on Emmet Street for breakfast and were served by one of the unattractive and overly made-up senile waitresses that they have a propensity to hire there.

Who knows, the little spawn might be the sort that ends up riding on the short bus, if you know what I mean.

Wonderboy Neek had spent the night at our house, and neither of us were happy about that. We were tolerating him only because he is Zachary's friend and yesterday was Zachary's birthday.
Wonderboy Neek is not the sort of person one wants in ones house.
Matthew tells me that Raphæl, in a moment of weakness, let Neek use his calling card and then discovered 180 dollars in calls on his monthly bill. And of course there's no way Neek can pay Raphæl back.
Raphæl is Neek's friend; imagine what shit Wonderboy might pull on the likes of Matthew and me.
We then discussed the growing Peggy and Zach crisis. Both of us are sick of the fact that Peggy and Zach lie around our house all day watching teevee and using utilities (and, in Zach's case, getting drunk) while we bring home the bacon. We're both dismayed that with all this time on their hands they make no attempts whatever to look for real jobs or a place to raise their coming family. And neither of us are willing to tolerate living with Peggy's baby when it comes. Who knows, the little spawn might be the sort that ends up riding on the short bus, if you know what I mean.

---

Then I stormed upstairs and smashed a wooden pole on the banister a few times to emphasize my point while Guided by Voice's "Portable Men's Society" blared ominously in the background.

W


hen I woke up in the afternoon, I was disgusted to find Wonderboy still hanging out at my house. I stormed down the stairs and told him in a voice shaking with anger that it was time to go home and that I was tired of this shit. He gave me that bland numb look of his and asked why. I said the shit was going down if he didn't leave. I turned to Zach and asked him to back me up on this. Zach said agreeably that he could take Neek somewhere else if I liked. I told Zach that if Neek wasn't gone in ten minutes I'd throw his, Zach's, stuff out in the street. Then I stormed upstairs and smashed a wooden pole on the banister a few times to emphasize my point while Guided by Voice's "Portable Men's Society" blared ominously in the background.

After Neek had been removed from my world, I drank some coffee and read some of Monster Boy's fascinating and inspirational "REsearch Series" coffee table book about pranks. I treated Zach with magnamity when he returned.

Now I'm at UVA's Olssen Hall documenting this for history.




a Pleistocene-era slacker couple

But the folly of facilitating their grasshopper existence soon became apparent and Zach's mother wisely gave the slacker couple two weeks notice.

M


atthew tells me that Peggy has a novel theory about the role she and Zachary play in the world. She says they are hunter/gatherers: she stays back at the cave and births and raises the little one while mighty Zach goes out and harvests what he can for the family from the world at large. The only problem with this model is that it bears no resemblance to reality. The role Peggy and Zach play is strictly that of parasites, the people who have set up shop in the cave of another and benefit from their hunting and gathering while lying around burning the firewood and drinking the fermented berries, occasionally benefited by a sack of smoked mastodon meat from the cave of Mom and Dad.

It seems Peggy and Zach had been living at the cave belonging to Zach's mother before they started living in my cave. But the folly of facilitating their grasshopper existence soon became apparent and Zach's mother wisely gave the slacker couple two weeks notice. That's when they showed up like stray cats a'purring on the very day I moved into 129 Observatory.

Matthew also tells me Zachary only works two nights each week at the C&O and he's a terrible employee. He's drunk the whole time off of stolen C&O alcohol. Dave Simpson only gave Zach the job as charity for Peggy. What Zach should be doing, of course, is being a model employee so as to pick up more hours. As it stands now, he'll almost certainly be fired eventually.

It's time for some tough love. We who pay the rent in our house are doing Peggy and Zach no favour by allowing them to piss away the months before their baby arrives. Faced with the street, perhaps then they'd realize the need to get their shit together.

---

I reminded him of the little trick he'd pulled with Raphæl's phone card.

I


t being Friday, I went to the Downtown Mall to see all the excitement. There were lots of people there, as usual for a Friday, but very few I wanted to see. One of those I didn't want to see was Wonderboy Neek. He came up to me, trying to be pleasant in his particularly weary way. He wanted to know why I'd kicked him out today. I reminded him of the little trick he'd pulled with Raphæl's phone card. Wonderboy thought he should be able to visit his friend (Zach) at my house since it was (he believed) Zach's house too. I insisted that it most definitely was NOT Zach's house, that Zach didn't pay any rent but instead lay around all day drinking our booze while we work. I went on to add that it was likely that Zach and Peggy would not be living at my house much longer.

---

M


onster Boy, Deya, Matthew Hart, Leticia the Brazilian Girl, Jesse and the occasionally surfacing Theresa Venesian had all gone camping at Blue Hole in the nearby Blue Ridge Mountains. But Deya soon returned. It's scratchy and uncomfortable out in the woods, even when there's a bottle of vodka going on.

Leah returned from work after 9pm, and she, Deya and I went and picked up some more 2.99/six pack Apple & Ale Williamsville beer. We would have preferred the much superiour Endangered Ale (I should interject here that all ale is endangered at my house), but that variety can no longer be found at the JPA Fastmart.

We lay around watching Monster Boy's movies and trying to get drunk off the Apple & Ale. But you know, no matter how much we consumed, we stayed almost cold sober. It was then we realized the awful truth: there's a reason the old timers still buy Beast Ice at the Fastmart... Apple & Ale contains almost no alcohol!

To top off my misery, my gut was hurting. Deya made me some tea, but all Leah did was tease me, calling me an old goat and even attempting to shove a beer bottle up my ass at one point. She was reminding of Sara Poiron. Her interactions with me are extreme, violent, and relentless almost exactly like Sara's. But Leah is less scatterbrained and distractable. Since she's on the lease, hopefully she's more reliable as well.

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