The Old Woman Who Cried Werewolf...

I think a little background is needed for this entry. I grew up living next door to my grandmother and aunt & uncle. After I moved out a while back my aunt & uncle moved out of the apartment above my grandmother so my girlfriend and I moved into that apartment due to the ultra low rent. Probably not the best move, but that is a whole 'nother series of blogs.

Anyway, next door to my grandmother's house was this other house that was butted up right against her driveway. In reality the lot for that house took up about 3 feet of my grandmother's driveway. Luckily my grandmother and grandfather had an agreement with the people that live in that house.

The house was the creepy house on the block when I was growing up. It was set back from the street which is pretty rare for my neighborhood, and had a twisted tree in the front yard. The house was never cared well for (atleast in my lifetime) and was the ugliest shit brown color.

This entry is about the woman who lived in that house, Mrs. Capp. The only thing creepier than the house was this woman. She was pretty damn old when I was growing up (I believe that she has since died). My mother remembers her as always being old too when she was growing up.

I used to like to play handball against her house in the driveway. Mrs. Capp of course didn't like this and would come out screaming bloody murder every time I did. Which would make me play handball more often.

She must have started going bat shit crazy during my childhood. No, I don't think it was the constant of my handball playing... or maybe it was. She started telling my friends and eye the nuttiest stories about herself.

One time I made the mistake of asking her why her one eye was all cloudy and white. She had really bad cataracts. She told my friend and I that she had wiped her eye with a kleenex and part of the tissue got stuck in her eye and she can never get it out.

Another time she was telling us about how her family was part werewolf, and that she turns into one on the fool moon. I don't remember how this topic got started on. Maybe I in my uncouth ways asked her about her excessive chin hair. I was pretty damn freaked out by this story. I think my mother even had to go over and talk to her about that one.

The last weird thing I can remember about her is that she used to tell me about her husband coming to pick her up and taking her out to eat. Now, her husband hasn't been alive since I can remember. I am pretty sure that he had passed away before I was born.

By the time I was in my teens she had moved into a nursing home and the house became abandoned. Of course, this made it all the more creepy. My grandmother eventually bought it so that we could preserve the driveway situation and a couple of years ago we tore down the house so it is just an empty lot now. I will probably get into somethings related to that in a later entry.

If you ever see a lycanthrope being driven around in a ghost car with a tissue stuck to it's eye. Tell Mrs. Capp hello for me.

Pissed Like Me

Last night after I came home from work I found Dead Like Me on the TV. It was, surprisingly, an episode that I hadn't seen before. I had forgotten just how brilliant this show was. Watching it last night just made me even more mad than I was when I initially found out about it's cancellation.

DLM is just an amazingly well written show. I don't understand what caused it to have low enough ratings to make Showtime cancel it.

Showtime could have easily took over HBOs position as far as cable TV series go. Brilliant series like Huff and DLM definitely rival (in quality) Six Feet Under and the Sopranos. Now all they have is Huff, which is really the only thing I watch on Showtime besides Penn & Tellers Bullshit!

Part of me is hoping that by Showtime showing Dead Like Me every week again that it will draw in more of an audience and force them to bring the show back. I know it won't happen, but a boy can dream.

You got an extra smoke?

Todays blog is an interesting experiment that was thought up by someone else. A group of us are to all write on same topic to see the different ways we all approach the same topic. The topic: Government's attempts at banning smoking in bars.

This was supposed to be up last night at 9PM but I never got around to doing it. Everytime I thought to myself, "hey, I need to do that blog on smoking" it made me want to have a cigarette. So I would light up a cig and completely forget to do this. This happened repeatedly throughout the night. I think I am going to have a cigarette now in fact.

*7 mintues later*

I live maybe 5-10 minutes outside of Manhattan where smoking has been banned in bars and restaurants for awhile now. Do I go toNYC bars and restaurant now? No. Of course I wish I could blame that on the smoking bam, but I hate that goddamn city anyway. When I was growing up a group of us used to cut school and hop on the PATH train into the city and hang out and get fucked up. In those days we could light up a joint walking down the street or just hanging out in Washington Square Park and not be bothered. From my understanding you can't do that anymore. It is frightenening to see how quickly that has all changed. I wish I could blame it all on Ghouliani and Bloomberg, but that would be too easy.

Anyway, I am straying from the point of this entry.

I don't understand the ban. It boggles my mind how business owners will allow the government to tell them what legal activities can and can not go on in their businesses. A lot of people like to say, "what about the waitresses and bartenders that have to work there and have to deal with the secondhand smoke". Ok.. if you want to be a waitress or bartender and you didn't think you would have to deal with smoke you are a fucktard. I don't like the prospect of having back problems... you know what I did? I DIDN'T GET A FUCKING JOB LIFTING HEAVY THINGS. Wow. What a fucking concept. For as long as I can remember smoke and bars went hand in hand. If you didn't know that then you have more problems than the potentials of sucking in secondhand smoke all during your shift.

I remember when I was in college, the first semester I was there you could smoke just about anywhere. The cafeteria, in the hallways of most of the buildings, etc. I ended up dropping out for a year and a half, but when I went back the climate had completely changed. You couldn't smoke anywhere except outdoors. Most people still smoked in the art building, because, like bars, being a troubled artist and smoking goes hand in hand. Eventually though that had to come to an end too.

"I don't like me clothes smelling like smoke after a night out."

Don't go out to a friggin' bar then. I don't. I hate bars and the people that tend to frequent them. I would much rather save my money and buy a few bottles of liquor and a couple sixpacks and spend the time at my house or someone elses. Sure I might not get lucky in the bathroom... but it has been known to happen a few times at friends houses too. ;)

I fucking hate people who ruin things for everyone else. Now I need a cigarette.