E-mail: Brian7Morris "at" hotmail.com Archives March 2002 April 2002 May 2002 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 current Blogs Mandapants farkleberries Uranium City Records The C.M. Sienko Foundation Storyteller Musings Solotarian Views Lynne Wiora Tek Poker News Blog Some Biscuits Evil Eye Emporium Niggling Doubts Pressure Release Sara as Mommy runswithscissors Defective Yeti Afternoon Delight trancejen The Terrarium Bird Nird Slipperily Tofu Hut Stereo Gum Links Fixed Gear Gallery Get Crafty This is Grand Featherproof Books Gapers Block Chicago Bird Watching	No one must know my terrible secret... House of Noh! Sunday, January 29, 2006 Early this Sunday morning on the way to the gym from Sharon P's, the guy drinking a beer on the bridge over the river was totally predictable. He had his head back, the bottom of the bottle pointed up in the air, he drained it, and "1...2...3, wait for it...." he threw the empty bottle over his shoulder into the river. Then, once Sharon P. and I walked one hundred feet past the river, we hear a car door slam behind us, by the river, and heard some angry shouting. We look back and there's a guy in a green army jacket laying in the fetal position under the front of a van, with a guy bending down over him and shouting. I figured the shouting guy threw him out of the van there. Then the shouting guy got back in the van and drove past Sharon and I. Sharon wanted to help the guy in the army jacket right away. I thought we should hide, at least until the van guy drove out of sight. Because what if he thought he should kill all the witnesses? But Sharon P. is reckless. RECKLESS!! She was out in the street trying to get the van's license plate number while I hissed "quick, get under here before he sees you!" from my muddy hiding spot underneath a parked Buick Skylark. After the van left, I approached the green army jacket guy, he was still on the ground with his legs tucked up. When I walked up I saw that he had blood running out of the corner of his mouth. I asked him if he was okay, and he sort of waved me off, blood coming now out of the other side of his mouth, and he told me "Mrarble mroff mrrabblre." I was like, "that's good enough for me!!" Then Sharon P. and I walked to the ultra-new swedish gym facility that has just been built in the neighborhood. She tells me there's construction on seventy new condos just down the street, and that's just one of the many development projects in the area. The people who move into those condos are not going to take all the beating victim dumpings and beer bottle throwing quietly, to be sure. I mean, seriously, there goes the neighborhood. Alas, it won't be long now before the early Sunday morning conversations with blood spitting dudes who'd prefer not to get the cops involved is only a distant memory. Brian 3:44 PM Comments: OK I am annoying but I cant help myself. I have to ask: What became of the blood spitting dude? Thanks for a very entertaining blog. I enjoy reading it :) # posted by IMSoto : 1:50 AM Post a Comment

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House of Noh!

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Early this Sunday morning on the way to the gym from Sharon P's, the guy drinking a beer on the bridge over the river was totally predictable. He had his head back, the bottom of the bottle pointed up in the air, he drained it, and "1...2...3, wait for it...." he threw the empty bottle over his shoulder into the river. Then, once Sharon P. and I walked one hundred feet past the river, we hear a car door slam behind us, by the river, and heard some angry shouting. We look back and there's a guy in a green army jacket laying in the fetal position under the front of a van, with a guy bending down over him and shouting. I figured the shouting guy threw him out of the van there. Then the shouting guy got back in the van and drove past Sharon and I. Sharon wanted to help the guy in the army jacket right away. I thought we should hide, at least until the van guy drove out of sight. Because what if he thought he should kill all the witnesses? But Sharon P. is reckless. RECKLESS!! She was out in the street trying to get the van's license plate number while I hissed "quick, get under here before he sees you!" from my muddy hiding spot underneath a parked Buick Skylark. After the van left, I approached the green army jacket guy, he was still on the ground with his legs tucked up. When I walked up I saw that he had blood running out of the corner of his mouth. I asked him if he was okay, and he sort of waved me off, blood coming now out of the other side of his mouth, and he told me "Mrarble mroff mrrabblre." I was like, "that's good enough for me!!" Then Sharon P. and I walked to the ultra-new swedish gym facility that has just been built in the neighborhood. She tells me there's construction on seventy new condos just down the street, and that's just one of the many development projects in the area. The people who move into those condos are not going to take all the beating victim dumpings and beer bottle throwing quietly, to be sure. I mean, seriously, there goes the neighborhood. Alas, it won't be long now before the early Sunday morning conversations with blood spitting dudes who'd prefer not to get the cops involved is only a distant memory.

Brian 3:44 PM

Comments:

OK I am annoying but I cant help myself. I have to ask: What became of the blood spitting dude?

Thanks for a very entertaining blog. I enjoy reading it :)

# posted by IMSoto : 1:50 AM

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House of Noh!

Sunday, January 29, 2006