The Truth About Cats & Blogs
So I arrive home and get my keys out to unlock the front door. But as I approach the house, I notice the TV is on. I knew I hadn't left it on myself, so I figured one of the guys had come home. This was odd because it was only around 5:30, and the rest of the people in my house all return home between 7:00 being the earliest, to 9:30 being the latest. They have these things called jobs that I'm not sure you're familiar with. I'm not, but I think I want one. Maybe for Christmas.
Anyway, as I open my front door I see a stranger walking towards me. Behind him, I see lots of duffle bags. In an instant, a thousand scenarios flashed through my head... Ironically, all of them ended up being Joe Sabia's fault. The guy introduced himself as Jarrod and had a pretty thick Australian accent. As I walked in I saw two more guys who immediately got up to shake my hand. It was only then that I remembered Joe mentioning a bunch of guys staying for a couple days, though he never mentioned they were Aussies. I talked with them a bit, you know, shooting the shit, "What time did your flight get in?", "How's Steve Irwin?", "Did the dingo eat your baby?" kind of stuff, never wondering how they got in if none of my other housemates were here and I had locked the front and back doors.
I called Joe and he seemed intrigued with that very question. He said that Jarrod had called him about twenty minutes earlier stating he was at the house, but the door was locked and so he and his "mates" would just wait until somebody got home. But clearly, he and his "mates" did not wait until somebody got home, because when I got home they were hanging out watching "King of the Hill" in my living room and making themselves pretty well at home for being across the world from their own. So when I got off the phone with Joe, I candidly asked how they had gotten in. Apparently Jarrod fucking CLIMBED the back deck. This is very high and dangerous. Pat and I were locked out once and thought of attempting it, but pussied out. He's either a very good climber, or very stupid, or both. Either way, I'm lucky I didn't come home to a dead Aussie sprawled out on the concrete in my back lawn. That would have been a little more jarring.
Yadda, yadda, yadda, I get to talking, and they are all pretty good guys. I asked how they knew Joe. Jarrod says "Well, I only vaguely know Joe." I wasn't surprised. I think everybody in the world at least "vaguely" knows Joe Sabia. Apparently Joe and Jarrod had never met, they only conversed online and on the phone. Joe's roommate at BC transferred after freshman year to Berkeley, where he roomed with Jarrod. By Sabia standards this practically makes Jarrod and his two friends family. Anyway, it was good enough for me, just a little awkward. The Aussies arrived in Los Angeles that morning, it being the first leg of their trip to Costa Rica, Peru, Bolivia, Argentina, and Brazil for three months. And I thought me moving to L.A was an adventure.
So here I was with three Australian guys that had broken into my house. I decided to take them on a little sight-seeing, AKA In-N-Out Burger drive-thru. That was fun. They call fries "chips". I guess I should ask what their term for "potato chips" is. It's probably some other food like "poppers" or "saltines" or "ravioli". Damn Aussies, get your foods straight.
One by one, my housemates started arriving, which made things a little less awkward. DJ and Mike showed up with a couple girls and drinks to watch a Christmas movie, which happened to be the classic "Home Alone". By the time Jorge, Pat, Joe, and Dylan got home, the Aussies had invited their friend Jeff and his friend over to hang out. We had a full house. The Aussies went down the street to the liquor store and bought us beer, as appreciation for letting them stay here. It was a pretty fun evening, just hanging in and having a few beers. Crossing cultures and shit. More fun when you're buzzed, by the way.
Now this small party brings me to the next, which was about 18 hours later when it was just me in the house again (no job). The Aussies arrived at the house with their friend Jeff and another guy who was going to be staying with us that night as well. Then two more "mates" showed up, a guy and a girl. I was alone in my house with seven strangers. I tried to talk to them, get to know them, but they pretty much just wanted to talk to eachother. Then I realized I didn't give a shit, because I was never going to see any of these people again in a day. One of the Aussies told a joke, "What did one boob say to the other boob?" and the punchline was so dumb I can't even remember it, it was like "Hey, don't be such a boob!" It was just really dumb, totally not funny, but suddenly the seven strangers erupted in laughter. I was like, alright, let me try. So I say "Hey, what did one asscheek say to the other asscheek?" Blank stares. "If we stick together, we can stop this shit!" Awkward silence, polite chuckles, weird glances at one another, tumbleweeds rolling through my living room. So at that point I was all set with the Aussies and their shit-eating "mates" and I shrank back into my room where I remained until they left for the evening.
Above: Joe and Dylan trying to make our guests feel more at home. Because I'm sure every Australian has a flag hanging from their ceilings with masking tape in the middle of the room.
Anyway, as I open my front door I see a stranger walking towards me. Behind him, I see lots of duffle bags. In an instant, a thousand scenarios flashed through my head... Ironically, all of them ended up being Joe Sabia's fault. The guy introduced himself as Jarrod and had a pretty thick Australian accent. As I walked in I saw two more guys who immediately got up to shake my hand. It was only then that I remembered Joe mentioning a bunch of guys staying for a couple days, though he never mentioned they were Aussies. I talked with them a bit, you know, shooting the shit, "What time did your flight get in?", "How's Steve Irwin?", "Did the dingo eat your baby?" kind of stuff, never wondering how they got in if none of my other housemates were here and I had locked the front and back doors.
I called Joe and he seemed intrigued with that very question. He said that Jarrod had called him about twenty minutes earlier stating he was at the house, but the door was locked and so he and his "mates" would just wait until somebody got home. But clearly, he and his "mates" did not wait until somebody got home, because when I got home they were hanging out watching "King of the Hill" in my living room and making themselves pretty well at home for being across the world from their own. So when I got off the phone with Joe, I candidly asked how they had gotten in. Apparently Jarrod fucking CLIMBED the back deck. This is very high and dangerous. Pat and I were locked out once and thought of attempting it, but pussied out. He's either a very good climber, or very stupid, or both. Either way, I'm lucky I didn't come home to a dead Aussie sprawled out on the concrete in my back lawn. That would have been a little more jarring.
Yadda, yadda, yadda, I get to talking, and they are all pretty good guys. I asked how they knew Joe. Jarrod says "Well, I only vaguely know Joe." I wasn't surprised. I think everybody in the world at least "vaguely" knows Joe Sabia. Apparently Joe and Jarrod had never met, they only conversed online and on the phone. Joe's roommate at BC transferred after freshman year to Berkeley, where he roomed with Jarrod. By Sabia standards this practically makes Jarrod and his two friends family. Anyway, it was good enough for me, just a little awkward. The Aussies arrived in Los Angeles that morning, it being the first leg of their trip to Costa Rica, Peru, Bolivia, Argentina, and Brazil for three months. And I thought me moving to L.A was an adventure.
So here I was with three Australian guys that had broken into my house. I decided to take them on a little sight-seeing, AKA In-N-Out Burger drive-thru. That was fun. They call fries "chips". I guess I should ask what their term for "potato chips" is. It's probably some other food like "poppers" or "saltines" or "ravioli". Damn Aussies, get your foods straight.
One by one, my housemates started arriving, which made things a little less awkward. DJ and Mike showed up with a couple girls and drinks to watch a Christmas movie, which happened to be the classic "Home Alone". By the time Jorge, Pat, Joe, and Dylan got home, the Aussies had invited their friend Jeff and his friend over to hang out. We had a full house. The Aussies went down the street to the liquor store and bought us beer, as appreciation for letting them stay here. It was a pretty fun evening, just hanging in and having a few beers. Crossing cultures and shit. More fun when you're buzzed, by the way.
Now this small party brings me to the next, which was about 18 hours later when it was just me in the house again (no job). The Aussies arrived at the house with their friend Jeff and another guy who was going to be staying with us that night as well. Then two more "mates" showed up, a guy and a girl. I was alone in my house with seven strangers. I tried to talk to them, get to know them, but they pretty much just wanted to talk to eachother. Then I realized I didn't give a shit, because I was never going to see any of these people again in a day. One of the Aussies told a joke, "What did one boob say to the other boob?" and the punchline was so dumb I can't even remember it, it was like "Hey, don't be such a boob!" It was just really dumb, totally not funny, but suddenly the seven strangers erupted in laughter. I was like, alright, let me try. So I say "Hey, what did one asscheek say to the other asscheek?" Blank stares. "If we stick together, we can stop this shit!" Awkward silence, polite chuckles, weird glances at one another, tumbleweeds rolling through my living room. So at that point I was all set with the Aussies and their shit-eating "mates" and I shrank back into my room where I remained until they left for the evening.
Above: Joe and Dylan trying to make our guests feel more at home. Because I'm sure every Australian has a flag hanging from their ceilings with masking tape in the middle of the room.
posted by PJG at 11/29/2006 08:45:00 AM
1 Comments:
Paul, I am out on the West Coast, some friends and I are headed up the coast a bit, was wondering if we could stop by? It'd be cool to see you :) If you want me to do some art for your house, i could probably do that. Also i can draw you something to use as a tatoo if that's your thing. I dont think you are into that, but maybe your roommates would be interested, jorge has a couple right? give me a call!!!
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