LOUSY ANTHROPOLOGISTS

holy fuck, the man's workin' me like a dog these days... haven't updated this blog in awhile. i suspect that, judging from the relatively quiet postings, you all (or y'all) have been pretty busy too... either that or i suck, but that's just preposterous. then again, today i didn't even have to use my AK. i gotta say, today was a good day. mmmmmmkay, so what's been going on... pats won the superbowl this weekend, but really the highlight of that game for me was bumping into an extremely large, extremely jolly, bearded gentleman from milwaukee who was going to be home for the big game but someone invited him to "smoke some good herb" on the cape (whatever in the world that means), so he stayed. his girlfriend smelled nice. i really don't give a shit about the patriots or the eagles because they'll never be as good as the 1996 green bay packers. let's face facts, brett favre could beat the holy tapdancing piss out of tom brady any day, and donovan mcnabb looks like a cherubic busta' rhymes. what really rocked was the free wings. that was awesome.
anyway the goddamn cops last night, though... talk about a bunch of 'roided up ex-bullies with riot gear and 3-foot wooden clubs (paging dr. freud...). walked down quincy market and there were, like, 4 cops to every person out on the street; pretty weak showing pats fans, we totally could have taken them on. or not. whatever, i had work this morning.
i went for a run today to try and reverse the binge-drinking-fatassery i've been down with lately and, because i have to lock two doors on the way, i tie a keychain to the drawstring on my shorts. you can imagine the drawstring knot has to be pretty tight to keep the keys away from my piece and whatnot, so it won't surprise you that it's a tough job locking the door on the way out. i'm standing on my tiptoes trying to lock my apartment door while the doorknob steals second (nudge. wink.) when my flippin' upstairs neighbors start walking up the stairs towards me. in a panic i pull away from the deadbolt in which, of course, the key jams, so i start jiggling the keyring to get away (all the while pressed erotically against my front door). so my upstairs neighbors, whom i don't much care for, walk up to me rhythmically humping my doorknob on my tiptoes mumbling c'mon, c'mon you son of bitch, come out of there. they were not thrilled... but one's getting her PhD in anthropology, so she's just bitter in general. they were probably turned on bigtime anyway.... lousy anthropologists.