Friday, August 11, 2006

home improvement

Man, did that show suck.

Anyways, I liked most of the suggestions you guys had as to what we should put in the new house. Bedroom GoldenTee would have been awesome, but Kris nixed the idea, then got on a plane to Tampa, rented a car, drove to Mensch's house, knocked on the door and kicked him in the nuts for even suggesting it. Then she used the "Men In Black" memory thingy to make him forget about the nuts-kicking and the GoldenTee-suggesting, and also the glavin. So, I guess the world will never be treated to the sound of this:

"Goodnight, honey."

"Night, shnookums."

Click. (Light is turned off).

...

...

SLAM!sppssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssSploosh!awwwwww

Spector, on the other hand, said this:

Let me throw out some phrases here, and you can figure out how to put them
together yourself:

"Bas Relief"
"Brick-Oven Pizza"
"Blackjack"
"Multiple-Action Jets"
"Soft Serve"
"Velvet"
"Solomito"

I guarantee that you'll triple the value of your home if you follow that
to its logical conclusion.

Sub, commenting from parts unknown (good to hear from you, Sub! hope all is well), took this to mean Dan Solomito would be dealing a 24/7 blackjack game on the deck. Which I think is a good idea only if we can get Don Rickles to reprise his role as the casino manager from Casino. That way, if things get too sticky, I'd get to say, "look, why take a chance? At least, that's the way I feel about it," then sit back and let the assassination montage proceed (set to "House of the Rising Sun").

In any case, here are my ideas:

  • A never-ending faucet of a liquid of our choosing. The catch? We have to choose the liquid at the outset and stick with it for as long as we own the house. Right now I'd go with the buffalo wing sauce from Moriarty's, but I could be convinced to go with something else. Thoughts?
  • An elaborate network of wires and hydraulics, designed to simulate super-human jumping ability. They made good use of this on Buffy, as people would be walking along, twidling their thumbs, and then all of a sudden some vampire or werewolf would jump out of nowhere, only it would be a jump no actor could ever do on his/her own. Then Buffy would run on-screen, say something witty, and then they'd start doing karate kicks at each other. I'd like to get the equipment they used so we could do those crazy jumps in the new house. We wouldn't have to use the stairs (which is boring). Also, I bet the cats would get a kick out of it.
  • Two-and-a-half words: Slip 'N Slide.
  • Guest bedroom GoldenTee.
  • A giant spike somewhere. Don't care where, as long as I can point it out and say "that's our giant spike."

I don't know if we'll be able to get to any of this before closing; it's been moved up to August 31st, which means that our hopes of driving down to D.C. and seeing the Mets in a fifth stadium this year have been dashed. (transition paragraph!).

The fourth stadium was Turner Field, where almost two weeks ago we saw the Mets complete their first three-game sweep in Atlanta in at least a couple decades. Which was nice, because 1) that place has always been a house of horrors for the Mets, and 2) it made up for the sweep at the hands of the then-white-hot Red Sox in Boston we witnessed. The Mets took a four-run lead into the ninth, and the place tried to will the Braves to another cockpunch, Mola Ram-heartripping victory by playing highlights of the infamous 2001 Brian Jordan grand slam game on the big-ass video board down there. Suffice it to say, it didn't work. Braves fans looking forlornly at the Mets' bullpen door saw no John Franco, Armando Benitez or Braden Looper run out onto the field. Which made it a little sweeter.

We were down there visiting Kris' dad, who is a Braves fan of convenience (i.e., he follows them so he can talk baseball with business partners). He's a really cool, funny guy, and jokingly became a Mets fan after the game. We played Cribbage the whole weekend. It was fun.

Turner Field is an interesting place. From our seats (lower deck, third base side), the place looked exceedingly tiny. Like, smaller-than-Citizens Bank Park tiny. Also, the Tomahawk Chop is something to behold in person. Hearing it on TV, it's roughly the equivalent of the one Native American guy shedding a single tear by the highway. But something is lost in translation, because in person, it's like the Trail of Tears. It feels like teams of audio engineers have spent years configuring their multi-million dollar sound system to be able to pound the Chop so deep into your soul that you can hear it in your dreams.

That said, here are some pics! Yay!

Mets Win! Yay!

3 comments:

mensch said...

I was really curious as to why

a) my balls hurt and
2) there was a footprint on my front door.

I wish to throw out another suggestion if I may be so bold. I think you should name your house something.

Jefferson had Monticello
Jackson had The Hermitage

You should have a nifty name for your homestead.

How about...
La Casa de Oldengay Eetay?
The Love Lounge?
Snakes on the Motherfuckin Plane!?
Ruth Built Me?

You should hire a professional calligrapher to paint the name over your door, and then you can always greet guests by saying, "Welcome to La Casa de Oldengay Eetay, friends!"

Kris, I will leave the door unlocked so you don't have to kick it down this time.

Kris said...

Thanks Mensch, the door-kicking ruined a perfectly good pair of shoes last time... and hurt a little bit...

Jeff Porten said...

Mensch, that was likely the fourth time this week that you had footprints on your door and your balls hurt.

Unfortunately, as I understand it, all that Buffy wire work needs to be done for each individual stunt, so you can't just wander down your central hallway and suddenly zing yourself to any room in the house. At least, not without hiring a squadron of best boys and key grips.

I'm thinking a Batpole. Especially a Batpole that would magically change your clothes between floors. But not with all the homoerotic overtones, because then you'll need best boys and key grips.