paint the walls

hoops are on.
my B team is the West Virginia. this is because of my brother but it wasn’t a hard sell. WVU’s head coach is Bob Huggins, a born-and-bred West By God hillbilly who has harnessed the ability to recruit athletic freaks. jackrabbits. 6″8′ freaks-of-nature with 45″ verticals. the man spent a year — a year — at Kansas State, which hadn’t been to the NCAA tourney in at least 15 years, and he signed Michael fucking Beasley.
Huggz can recruit. and he’s in the Big East. which means he can recruit in every city from DC to NYC. in five yars, West Virginia will be awesome. just watch.
and Big East basketball is great; Pittsburgh, Georgetown, Syracuse, Marquette, Notre Dame, Louisville, UConn, Villanova. Seton Hall and Providence are names. WVU is beating the shit out of Kentucky right now. seven minutes into the second half, and they’ve only got 24 points. god, I hate Kentucky. that school can rot in hell.

Thanksgiving was delicious. two days of nothing-but-eating. but I didn’t get any mashed potatoes. weak!

a year ago in August, my Aunt Nettie died.
this was the event that anchored one of the wildest weeks in the history of my family. I wasn’t there; I was at this awful, awful job that I can’t seem to shake, but from everything I’ve been told, this was a blessing. conflicting personalities, that death in the family, and the loss of electricity conspired to create our own personal Hell Week. seven people in one house, at the most humid end of summer, after a non-typical monsoon knocked out power for five days straight.
I’m not doing this justice. I know. this is hard to describe. because everyone thinks their family is over the top, more dysfunctional than the next. I’m not going to carry the illusion that mine is any more than yours may be, but it’s definitely unique. I guess every family has their own narrative. and I think this week, that I didn’t directly experience but can sense like it was tattooed on my forearm, this is the perfect example to get that narrative on paper.
I talked to Va. on the phone a year ago, and I remember this; she said: “You need to turn this into a story.” I needed, she said, to write this down.
I couldn’t get out of work for this, a year ago in August, which sucked. I kind of wanted to be there, for the wrong reasons. I knew it was gonna be a trainwreck, but it was gonna be my trainwreck. I was gonna be part of it, and we were all gonna be miserable together, which is a million times better than being lackadaisical alone. 
but maybe not being able to attend was kind of a blessing in disguise. maybe I can turn something out of this. and it’s been over a year, so now talking to my grandmother and mother about this with a tape-recorder, maybe it won’t be seem so horribly crass.

okay, since I wrote that ringing endorsement of the Huggs Mountaineers, Kentucky has outscored WVU 21 to nine, and now it’s 45-41 Wildcats with 4:15 left. fuck!

and in news: mutants stormed across Mumbai. and some poor asshole was trampled to death by hordes of shoppers on Black Friday.

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1 comment so far

  1. Anonymous on

    They should hunt those people down…. the tramplers and the people who ripped the doors off the hinges and trampled over a man for what?….. perhaps a toaster or…. more worthy the last X Box 360.

    What the hell.


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