2003-11-23 - 3:33 p.m.

Man, I haven't seen title alliteration like that since . . . well . . . since here. Funny, I'm not feeling very literate. But I do feel full of pizza. Mmmmm . . .

I guess I should mention that last weekend we all went out for Jeff's birthday. I should mention that Amy arranged for a bunch of us to show up downstairs at the Brewery in Portsmouth and Jeff and her would arrive later. It wouldn't be so much a "surprise" as Jeff requested the party, but he didn't know where it was going to be and who would be there. So I guess it had elements of a surprise. I assure you though, Ben did not ruin said surprise. Though I know he had hoped to hang around outside Butcher's Best in attempt to do so if called upon. [Folks, we have a winner!! We're only a paragraph and a half into the entry and already I've made an obscure inside joke that few will ever understand! I'd like to thank The Academy of Cotton Candy and Earthworms, my agent Peter Fatmat, and above all else, Hubba-Bubba. Thank you!] Anyway, I should also mention that the Sachem quotient was high that night. Brooke, Ben, Chad (& Mackenzie), Rich, O'Shea, Jason (& Rena), the Brothers Space, and of course myself. I suppose I must also mention that Molly Smith was there, to whom I drunkenly walked up to and said, "What are you doing here?" To which she replied, "I'm here for Jeff's party." To which I replied, "Oh me too. Me too." I should add that I drank a lot of blueberry beer, or as those brewmasters at the Brewery call it, "BlueBeery"! Ho. Ha. Ho. I should also mention that almost every verb that night of mine was preceded by the adverb, "drunkenly". As in, "Zach drunkenly tried to dominate the juke box with Talking Heads songs." and "Zach drunkenly played that shuffleboardesque game with Rich and Ben" and "Zach drunkenly talked so loud that Ben almost punched him" and my personal favorite, "Zach drunkenly puked off the bridge next to Biddy Mulligan's after Ben pulled over on the way home to Rollinsford." So yeah . . . there was that. But it was a pretty fun night, and luckily for me, Mike Space was there, who I was later told made it possible for me to only be the "Second Most Drunk Person" there that night. See, I think I get all excited when I'm not DD now that I just go hog wild. Oh well . . . I didn't have any mysterious injuries or missing watches the next morning, so I consider it all to be a successful evening. The only bad thing was no Jimbo. It's totally something that Jimbo would have been at, and including Peter and Titie's BBBQ we had, it marks the second major function that we've gone Jimbo-less. Apparently, San Diego is more fun than "bluebeery". I find that hard and difficult and hard to believe.

"Zach drunkenly rides Melanie the giraffe while both disguise themselves and crush babies underfoot."

Yeah. So I hate my family. Ha, ha. Yes, I know. That old chesnut Zach? Yeah, yeah. An oldie but a goodie. And seriously, my family sucks. I mean, I'm sure it's worse for other people. I mean, I'm not having to constantly regrout things or fix washing machines like Ben or Monique, but sometimes I want to just punch some of them in the face. And by "sometimes", I mean "almost always". Seriously. The one exception to this is Nanny of course. Nanny could shoot me down like a dog in the street (and believe me, it's almost happened) and I would still not want to punch her. Whereas she is the exception though, Brad is the rule. I swear to fuck, lately I want to just kill him. And by "kill him", I mean "murder him". It's weird. When we were younger, we fought constantly. I mean, I can't think of a holiday that wasn't marred in some shape or form in the 80's that didn't involve Brad and I fighting. But then, as we got older, and could agree on things - i.e. the sheer genius of The Chipmunk Adventure, finding warp wands on Super Mario Brothers 3, eating tomato soup quietly, etc. - we became a lot friendlier. Not that I didn't have a good relationship with Alison, Bryan and Caleb, or for that matter, Conner, but Brad and I were the closest of the grandchildren I would think. Not anymore. I find myself more and more thinking, "If I ever met this kid now I would fucking HATE him." For real. (un)Fortunately I met him a long time ago. But seriously, I don't expect everyone to live their lives the same, and by no means do I hold myself up as any sort of model, but I find myself becoming more and more disappointed and / or disgusted with every new thing that I hear - either directly or indirectly. Not that he'll read this, though I wouldn't care if he did. He knows how I feel. Besides, living your life the way you want to is anyone's choice, but I find it inexcusable to not visit with a sick grandmother for over 3 weeks. But don't worry. I know Brad and I know that he's got some half ass excuse that will justify his actions. He always does.

What? It can't always be fun and laughs.

But it CAN always be Bionic Six!!!

Ah, the did the trick for nicely cleansing the palette. What else? Lately feeling the need to construct eulogies while driving in the car? No, no. That won't do. Not after just so nicely cleansing the palette. Thanksgiving is coming! Ok, that's good. Everyone loves Thanksgiving! Well, not people born in the Stupid/Vegan Factory like Al-Y-son and Shannon. Mmmmmm . . . I love Thanksgiving. Especially for all the yummy stuffing. Mmmmmmm. I'm gonna be most thankful for leftovers. Except I'll be working Black Friday the next day and I'm not so thankful for that.

Oh wait, I never explained the title of this entry. See, I'm pretty sure some rogue spiders (are there any other kind?) have infiltrated my bed chamber and are attacking me at night. Either that or I'm sleepwalking and falling down and causing all these creepy injuries myself. First thing, I wake up earlier this week and notice my left index finger knuckle is really sore. There's a little shiny pink blotch on it and of course, my natural reaction is, "Oh my God a spider bite and I'm so scared and I don't know what to do and everything is getting fuzzy and where is Coty he's always the one that comes and kills the spiders for me and I better get to carving up my estate . . ." you know, the natural reaction. Then, that night, I notice that the base of my index finger looks swollen and I can't bend the tip of my finger all the way down to touch my hand anymore. Ok, that's scary. So my next thought is, "The spider is still in my finger and it's only a matter of time before he finds the earwigs in my brain and they join forces and use me as a giant fleshy puppet to help them topple over the White Castle burger regime." Ben tells me I'm stupid and that I should go to bed. Seems like sound advice. The next morning I get up and my finger is fucking killing me. Now the whole finger is sore and as I type this it's even worse. Especially the "w", "r", 's", "e" in "worse" since they are all on the left side of the keyboard. And oddly, I use all the fingers on my right hand to type, but only the thumb and index figer of my left hand. I also drive left handed and seperate charge slips, comic books, and newspaper pages with my left index finger. Fun Fun. So yesterday at work I'm raving and ranting about not only did a spider bite me, but it also laid it's precious egg sac(s?) in my finger and the clock is ticking until it ["it" being my finger] explodes and thousands of baby spiders float into my mouth, clog my throat, and asphyxiate me. My co-workers all called me "crazy". Then, not long after, my mother, who was the birthday girl at the time too, comes in and I show her my finger as I mewed in pain. She said, "Looks like spider bite. I hope it didn't lay it's eggs inside you." And you people wonder why I'm so bat shit insane. If Coty was here, and not in San Diego, none of this would have happened. Stupid San Diego, stealing all of my friends away.

Don't worry. Chef Chen Kenichi isn't going off to San Diego. And to insure this, Ben glued him to the tree outback.

Man, that paragraph about Brad was pretty harsh, huh? Oh well. What're ya gonna do?

That said, I think it's almost time for my finger to hatch so I best be on my way. But let's all raise a glass of BlueBeery to the Pats for winning it in OT 23-20 just now against the creatively named Houston Texans. Sweet.

It's been real,

Zooby McSpiderson

ps - Let's all give a big hand to Coty for running away with the lead for the last poll, "Who ate the secret pizza?" He came in an inexplicable 1st place with 9 votes and 39% of the vote. Ben came in 2nd with 5 votes and 22% of the vote. And Zach rounded out the top 3 with 4 votes and 17% of the vote. Now, for a Holiday Themed Poll!

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