The Upshot: Charlie Weiss is Fat.
In response to my earlier complaint (on this blog, two days ago) about a distinct, and growing, lack of space here at Camp TGO, I began gutting the study about 5am Sunday and failed to finish the job, because that is how all my 5am projects end; unfinished.
You would have to know the layout of my home to know how ludicrous it is, but the bottom line is that a small, afterthought of a room was built off the kitchen some years after the house itself was completed, and this room became a sort of catch-all for whatever the previous owners were either too lazy to trash in the first place or intended to use elsewhere before having sold the house. In any event, I moved in (29 January 2002) long before this space was actually ready for me, and in response to talk of the debris in the Sun Room (as I called it then), I muttered something noncommittal about how we could take care of it in the Spring.
By Summer 2002, after about six months of keeping all my books, magazines, and archive materials stacked in the hallway leading to the bathroom, I decided something had to be done. So up traipsed my landlord and his fat son to remove all the old mess, whereupon I removed the old carpet, painted, laid down new carpet, and threw some blinds over each of the seven windows. (That’s right, seven windows. I told you this house is fucking ridiculous.)
As swift and efficient as all that sounds, I had to practically be beaten about the head and chest by my buddy Mike the Jew (who, irritatingly enough, is much more motivated by the mundane task than I am) to finish all the work once it began. Without his help, and that of my former editor Shane Hollister (who I seem to remember basically installing the carpet), the room would have never been finished. It helps to know people more handy that yourself, especially if you’re lazy.
In any event, it became the study. Its acoustics are the best in the house, and consequently TGO Radio was recorded there (in these instances, becoming the study-o), but due in equal parts to space limitations and international intrigue, has been the one room in the house that has never – NEVER – taken any definitive shape. (My front room, by contrast, has remained in the same configuration for years, and will likely stay this way until I either move out or die.) The poor study is stamped through, has books dropped upon its floor, desks slid around on its carpet, computer equipment and radios moved in and out…. It’s a sad, undisciplined mess, now made even worse by the boxes and boxes of books and magazines I have scattered hither and yon throughout both the kitchen and the study. As a place of research and writing, it deserves so much better than me....
I’ll be in South Bend Saturday afternoon for the Michigan @ Notre Dame game, so keep an eye out for me on the teevee. I’ll be the one (outside the Michigan student section, that is) not rooting for Notre Dame.
You would have to know the layout of my home to know how ludicrous it is, but the bottom line is that a small, afterthought of a room was built off the kitchen some years after the house itself was completed, and this room became a sort of catch-all for whatever the previous owners were either too lazy to trash in the first place or intended to use elsewhere before having sold the house. In any event, I moved in (29 January 2002) long before this space was actually ready for me, and in response to talk of the debris in the Sun Room (as I called it then), I muttered something noncommittal about how we could take care of it in the Spring.
By Summer 2002, after about six months of keeping all my books, magazines, and archive materials stacked in the hallway leading to the bathroom, I decided something had to be done. So up traipsed my landlord and his fat son to remove all the old mess, whereupon I removed the old carpet, painted, laid down new carpet, and threw some blinds over each of the seven windows. (That’s right, seven windows. I told you this house is fucking ridiculous.)
As swift and efficient as all that sounds, I had to practically be beaten about the head and chest by my buddy Mike the Jew (who, irritatingly enough, is much more motivated by the mundane task than I am) to finish all the work once it began. Without his help, and that of my former editor Shane Hollister (who I seem to remember basically installing the carpet), the room would have never been finished. It helps to know people more handy that yourself, especially if you’re lazy.
In any event, it became the study. Its acoustics are the best in the house, and consequently TGO Radio was recorded there (in these instances, becoming the study-o), but due in equal parts to space limitations and international intrigue, has been the one room in the house that has never – NEVER – taken any definitive shape. (My front room, by contrast, has remained in the same configuration for years, and will likely stay this way until I either move out or die.) The poor study is stamped through, has books dropped upon its floor, desks slid around on its carpet, computer equipment and radios moved in and out…. It’s a sad, undisciplined mess, now made even worse by the boxes and boxes of books and magazines I have scattered hither and yon throughout both the kitchen and the study. As a place of research and writing, it deserves so much better than me....
I’ll be in South Bend Saturday afternoon for the Michigan @ Notre Dame game, so keep an eye out for me on the teevee. I’ll be the one (outside the Michigan student section, that is) not rooting for Notre Dame.
By the way, speaking of that, Charlie Weiss is fat. Before the Georgia Tech game a few weeks ago, some poor ABC cameraman took it upon himself to get a lingering shot of Weiss as he walked out onto the field, show from just below crotch level and looking up, in what may have been the most unflattering shot in television’s vast and sad history. Charlie Weiss has bigger man-tits than should ever be permissible on a man paid so handsomely to whip talented young men into outstanding physical condition. Mix in a Slim Fast, you disgraceful, fat bitch.
posted by Brian S. Wise | 6:02 PM
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