Appetizer: Where do you go when you want to relax?
Nowadays, my apartment. But there have been two times in my life where I’ve had party-tastic roomates who nearly drove me insane. The first was five years ago up on Hanover Street, and the second was just recently. But my latest malevolence has moved on to Southie, and my apartment is back to being it’s inner-sanctum-self. Having to worry about when and if you’re going to be able to sleep, and who you’re going to find on your couch when you get home at night, is like being cut off at the knees. A man’s home is his castle! Or at least a modest serfdom.
Soup: Tell about something that made you laugh this week.
An Anglophile is defined as “An admirer of England and things English”. In terms of the suffix “phile” it’s among the more favorable classifications out there, Michael Jackson. So I was thrilled 6 months ago when I discovered this site. I’ve been downloading English television shows like it’s my job and I can’t get enough. I’ve watched all 5 seasons of Most Haunted, most of the Big Brothers and my latest fascination is Brat Camp. What happens is, truly awful little English teenage bastards are sent by their exasperated parents to a special camp in the wilds of Utah. They go from living in their ‘posh’ houses and screaming in their mother’s faces, to being up to their waists in snow and at the mercy of a group of ex-Marines and cowboys. It’s hilarious to watch these spoiled bastards get whipped into civility, but the show has a lot of heart, too. Hopefully they’ll port it to BBC America.
Salad: What is your favorite texture?
The last time I went around touching things for a lark, I wound up using cigarettes as currency for about six months. I’d love to say “lush velvet”, but the term “cotton thong” just keeps fighting it’s way to the surface.
Main Course: You’re publishing your autobiography. What’s the first sentence?
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, now is the winter I get hooked on Creme De Menthe.” Or how about “I am a sick man … I am a spiteful man… are you gonna eat that?” Maybe “Call me Ishmael. But my friends call me Joan”. All written entirely in purple crayon.
Dessert: Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? If so, how?
I’ve worked the door at Tiernans the last 5 years, but told them I was through when they asked me to do it again next week. Now you’re wondering – what am I going to do with my first free St. Patrick’s day in half a decade? Why, go to Tiernans, of course. As a civilian. And Sunday I’m headed to Emily’s for a gathering in the morning before hitting the Southie Parade. A very happy pogue mahone to us all!
Christ. I went through your appetizer just recently. It’s hell…one word…Spicer. Spent the weekend painting and deodorizing. It’s so invigorating sitting here relaxed without having to worry about who or what is about to come thru the door next.
I hate to see old friends have falling outs… but from the sound of things they have no one to blame but themselves. The speckled trout has been released back into the stream.