Moving Day

I’m moving back in with Andre today and I can’t wait. Peter and I decided to head back over there so we can work more. We’re about a zillion times more productive when we live together.

Peter was living with a German dude, his hot Italian wifey, and their adorable little baby boy. Seeing them play and hang out made me want to have a half Italian baby with my own hot Italian wife. She cooked up a fat spread every night and although the little baby was only 15 months or so, she’s already got another bun in the oven. What’s better than a smoking hot wife from Italy who will never cheat on you, give you 8 kids if you want, and make you a humongous 5 course meal for brekky? And even when she yells and gets pissed, she’ll sound so stinking hot and sexy and cute that you just want to put her in your pocket and carry her around forever. Yup, Italian wifey is the only way to go.

Anyway, the family is moving so Peter had to get the hell out. I on the other hand was living with the Fritz, the weirdest dude in the universe. Seriously the guy has issues. He’s fat, totally bald, wears boots, leather jackets, little round mad scientist spectacles, walks round in his underwear, and tells me every detail of the universe every time I see him. I’ve started avoiding him just because he literally will not shut the fuck up. And he’s anal beyond belief. It makes me cringe when I think about how tortured he must truly be to worry about such little shit as whether or not he’s using the right colored butter knife to butter his bread or if the lighter to light pilot on the strove was returned to it’s place and is laying 90 degrees to the coffee maker. I used to always think my dad and brother were anal, and that I was the only normal one, but Fritz has raised the bar tenfold. Plus he thinks I’m 11 and he teaches me stuff like how to use the iron, every time I use it. He doesn’t realize that I’m 28 and have probably gotten by in life without someone teaching me how to use the iron every time I need to press some wrinkles out of my shiny shirt.

So off to Andre’s we go. Andre has dubbed his place, whenever me and Petes are there together, as the “Think Tank” because Peter and I are always dorking out on our laptops. The two rooms we rent are across the hall from each other and Andre used to wake up to me and Peter battling over who’s laptop could blare country music the loudest at the same time. We’d be rocking out and Andre will come out in his robe in utter disbelief that he let a couple of dudes like us into his house. But I can tell that Andre is excited that we are coming back. Now that we are all pals and buddies and not just landlord/tenants, the next month will be like on big sleepover party for him with his 2 best and funnest friends. And I think for us too.

We’re going to introduce Andre and Cornelia to Soprano’s and try and watch as much as we can in the next month. Poor Germans, at least Andre and Cornelia, have no HBO and don’t know what Sopranos or Entourage is. No wonder they aren’t cool.

I have also had my dad ship me Lonesome Dove on DVD, because Peter just read to book, and we are going to have Lonesome Dove night; maybe spread over 4 nights just like the original miniseries. Ol’ Newt and Call and Gus should be fun for Germans I think. And that was such a great movie for me growing up that it will spring all kinds of nostalgia for me and make me think of watching it with pops back home in Cali.

So this like my 7th move since moving here and I love it. One year ago, I had so much shit it was unbelievable; furniture, tools, random bullshit nick knacks, clothes, my truck. I can’t tell you how liberating it is to have everything you own in one suitcase and a backpack with nothing ahead of you but your whims, your fancy, and doing what makes you happy. So off to Andres for a month of adventure before the even bigger adventure of Buenos Aires. I’ll be sure to fill you in on the dumb shit the three of us get ourselves into!!!!!!