The Badly Written Sitcom

      You know what they say about not being able to come back home? Yeah, it’s bullshit. I went back to the place where I grew up (relatively) and it was all right.

      I dragged Conrad along to shoot my newly developed "opus" in one of those places that everyone loves and hates at the same time… my old high school. See, I went out looking for a girl that supposedly did a really good thing for me back in my teenage years. (That sort of thing was kinda rare those days.) what I got was an entire day soaked with that local flavor that can’t do ayone wrong.

      For twelve years, that small crappy boring old town was my entire life, before the beer and the black, before the heart aches and heart attacks, before the movies and the doobies.

      I basked in the very places where true love was true, friendship had no compromises and life was just a couple of hours of video games and an entire day of insults.

      True, I hated high school, which is weird because most of the people I consider as my real friends are from my high school days, but it just wasn’t as ego-gratifying as college. (Then again, it’s not as bad as the way things are after college.) But there was something refreshing about going back once in a while… all new and improved and stuff. It just felt right, being disconnected from all the crap the rest of the world has to deal with, from all the crap I regularly deal with.

     Just a little bit more fine tuning… and I’ll have my life back in order. I can’t wait.

      People are really stupid. I know that’s a really harsh thing to say, but they are. Someone actually had the guts, the gall, the audacity, the testicular fortitude to say to yours truly’s face that I’m not teenager anymore?! Oh my god! People aren’t just stupid…they’re downright crazy.

      Speaking of crazy shit, my friend Nats is actually getting married. To those reading this (all three of you) who actually know who Nats is (all none of you), our semi-regularly retarded friend is marrying his longtime girlfriend. (You know, the one that beat him up. The one who’s ass Marvi was supposed to kick during graduation had I not stopped her.) Guess who’s the bestman? No shit.

     Anyway, if he wants to exchange "I do"s with a woman who can inspire another pregnant to commit a brutal act of violence despite the risk of harm befalling her unborn child on one of the most important days of her life, that’s his business. If he wants to spent the rest of his life getting beat up on for the mere reason that he recieved a text message from another female, regardless of who the said female is, it’s his life. And if he wants to get a bestman who from this day forward shall remind him of how stupid this decision is each and every opportunity he gets, I’m not stopping him.

       There’s no denying that this whole deal sucks, but Nats may be a lot of things, but he’s never been irresponsible. This is a man who beat all odds and graduated. (If you knew him, you’d know why we’re so proud of him. Most of the time.) We, all of his friends, will always be there. We wont approve, but we’ll be there. Because that’s we do; we object, but we grin and bear it.

       Times like this, we remember why god made friends, and friends buy beer.