Part One, the sacraments.
Sunday, June 30, 1991
Part One, the sacraments ('91 - In which I begin a rough outline for my new religion)
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
The monkey peed green today ('94, I suppose - margins reflect large handwriting on standard graph paper - errors intact)
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Act One, scene 1 ('91 approximate, typed graph paper original script idea)
Act One, scene 1
The curtain opens on an alley scene. Two bums are leaning seated comfortably with their backs against a red, black and white collage which is supposed to remind everyone of the old style building backsides so common in the inner city. There is a spray painted dumpster nearby which lays claim to ownership by seven local street gangs. Trash, overflowing from the dumpster, covers the surrounding area like a blanket of snow. As one glances around the scene, from the street light in the center stage to the dumpster in the back ground to the bums at center stage right it becomes clear that this is a very average alley except in one respect. The bums are watching a 35 inch color T.V. with a remote control and four speaker surround sound. They are playing a casual game of cribbage and commenting on every third news story. On the television the newscaster is being shown dancing topless on the newsdesk, squatting occasionally to pick up another story. The bums simultaneously turn their heads to the T.V. screen and then back away in disinterest. Sex means nothing to them.
Bud (Bum1)
Eye doen know bout chew but eye cain stain lookit her no mower.
Bartholomew (Bum 2)
Ewe got that rye-t. Warnst in a wile i gitst t'wherest Ike 'ud gista 'bout puke. She's worse...
(Bum 1) Way Worst!
Bum 2) Got to be...
Hello. ('91 typewritten on graph paper, original typos intact)
Hello. Please allow me to introduce mysel. I am a man of wealth and taste. Ha! That's a joke son. No, I am a very wealth and dignified man about town. I am fifty, sport a grey beard and spectacles and am very fond of pretending to be a blind and helpless old man This is just a ruse I use for picking up the ladies. Somting in my slightly spastic walk that really turn them on. Hey, hey, hey. That what I say.
Monday, June 24, 1991
Vio-lation (1991 rap song)
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).