Monday, October 23, 2006

Writing Assignment

Below are my homework assignments for The Second City sketch writing course. The world will see it before my instructor ever does. Assuming the world reads this blog.

The assignment was to describe a place or environment, and to describe an item that has special meaning in my life. So that's what I did. Eat meat, beer and cheese.

The Laundry Room

My laundry room is pretty disgusting by most people’s standards. In addition to providing my home a facility to wash clothes, it also serves as my dogs’ cafeteria, and sometimes their bathroom. Although, they usually prefer the carpet in the family room for the latter.

The floor in the laundry room is protected by cheap vinyl tile. It is the same tile that was there when I moved in nine years ago, as is the rest of the room’s decor, so I have no idea how old it is. It is scratched and tattooed with grime in some places. I see no need to replace it. The dogs seem to like its light blue flower trim pattern. The dogs and I are the only ones who spend any significant time in there. I barely notice the floor’s imperfections unless my wet feet alert me that something is amiss.

The washer is currently unplugged, unattached and pulled away from the wall. It stopped cooperating about a month ago. I’m at the end of trying to fix it. A new washer is on the way. The dryer sits in its customary place, to the left of where the washer should be, had it been behaving. Both appliances are white and stained with the memory of bunny effluence. The bunnies were evicted a few years ago, due to their incessant violations of our boarder contract.

Outside light infiltrates the room from a window over looking the washer and dryer area, and from a window on a door, which leads to the back yard, positioned to the left of the dryer. Both windows are donned with a wardrobe consisting of matching plastic green blinds, which complement the peeling warm red wall paper. These blinds also serve as dust repositories.

To the right of where an accommodating washer should be sits an off white speckled plastic stationary tub. This , too, boasts blemishes of its own, caused by the clean up efforts of the burnt red Venetian Plaster used to adorn the living room walls. On the wall behind the stationary tub is a make-shift splash guard hewn from a piece of faux brick wall covering. This helps promote the luxurious environment required when cleaning painting utensils or hand washing delicates. An electrical outlet, which provides power to the washer/dryer, looms perilously close to the tub, halfway up the wall. It’s a wonder I have not been electrocuted yet, with all the hand washing of delicates I do. To the right of the stationary tub of potential death is a door leading to a glorious bathroom.

Homemade cabinets and drawers, constructed with the finest plywood, cover the walls opposite the washer/dryer area and form an “L” shape through the corner. These are gilded with a pristine coat of brown paint and lacquer. Not paint covered by lacquer – paint and lacquer mixed together and then applied in a hurry, apparently. Depending on the humidity, temperature and wind patterns, some of the cabinet doors and drawers actually close all the way, sometimes. The largest cabinet, in the corner, leases itself to a furnace and a water heater. A mop and a bucket and some other infrequently used cleaning supplies keep them company. The rest of the cabinets secure such valuables as dog food, laundry supplies and whatever else cannot earn a spot in the important parts of the house.

There is a hook attached to the ceiling of the room in the corner. A paint roller hangs there as a reminder to how much this room needs some restorative attention. The ceiling also supports an uncovered light fixture, which is near is a pull down staircase leading to the attic. The panel to the staircase is painted brown so as not to be confused with the rest of the ceiling, which is white, except for remnants of bunny splash and other marks of mystery.

The dogs do their best to coddle the room with their discarded hair, as it comforts the creases and nooks created by the contents of the room. They also employ their own brand of aroma therapy in there, which is only supplanted temporarily by detergent and fabric softener fragrances on laundry days. They don't seem bothered by the room's condition. It is one step above living in the wild, although they spend most of their time on the couch.

The Fabio Photo

My eight by ten autographed glossy of Fabio is FABULOUS. In fact, I think “Fabio” is Italian for fabulous. If it isn’t, it should be. The photograph is black and white in a portrait layout. Fabio stands menacingly just off center to the left as if he was just about to make a proposition – one he is sure would be accepted. One of his hands playfully hides in the pocket of his casual black jacket, while his left hand confidently supports his pose on an unseen structure – probably a Donatello bust.

Fabio wears an angelic white shirt, with buttons hidden and a band collar fastened by an elegant dark bead. His Adam’s apple peaks out just beneath his massive and powerful square jaw, reminiscent of the animated Johnny Bravo of Cartoon Network fame. His golden mane hangs calculatedly untamed around his shoulders as he stares at the viewer like a lion concentrating on a deformed zebra. His enigmatic grin reveals his enjoyment in the zebra’s final doomed minutes.

Fabio's autograph, barely legible in gold ink, begins at his ornate belt clasp and drifts across to the right edge of the portrait. The placement of the signature reminds the viewer that the portrait is appallingly cut short at mid hip, leaving any package peepers wanting.

The picture frame protects the photograph with a frosty plane of glass. The frame is decorated with a double helix rope design bordered by two rows of half circles. The plastic construction is painted to appear as tarnished gold, as if to say, “Oh look, I’m an antique frame, but I was actually bought at a dollar store”.

On the outside of the glass pane, there is an autographed postcard of comedian Jake Johansson. He signed it, “I fucked a sock. Jake Johansson”. He didn’t want to sign it that way, but I asked him nicely, to commemorate one of his jokes in his act, and I wouldn’t leave him alone until he did. He was afraid I’d try selling it on eBay. I wonder how he’d feel sharing the frame with Fabio.

I keep the Fabio picture on my bar for all to enjoy. Friends who stop over and see it ask me if I’m gay, as if only gay people can appreciate the brilliance of Fabio. But I do wonder, sometimes, if I were gay, if I would be attracted to Fabio, and he to me. I also wonder if Fabio would ever consider keeping a photograph of me on his bar. If he did, would it be for the same reason I keep his picture – as a reminder of all that is silly in this world.


del said...

Thx. for sharing! Tomorrow's what, your 3rd class. Which means only 9 more weeks???? Which means only 9 more installments, if you blog each and every week...... is is wrong that I'm already starting to anticipate withdrawal!

Anonymous said...

This is laim, dude.

Sid F'er said...

English class was pretty laim, too.

keysunset said...

Thanks, Moist! I enjoyed reading this. Very vivid word pictures and my own imagination (you and your constant hand washing of delicates, the tub of death, Fabio on your bar) kept me almost breathless for what you would describe next.

I did imagine for a moment that you said the light fixture was painted brown before I realized you meant the attic access. Silly me! :-D

del said...

vivid word pictures and my own imagination (you and your constant hand washing of delicates... My imagine went more to the constant wearing of said delicates that needed the constant washing.... I'll be ok, tho. Just have to lay down a bit

(Btw, anon, this is not Laim. That's in Germany. This blog is pure American.)

CartoonSecrets said...

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So far I have covered these cartoon series briefly, but I am planning to add more details on characters and individual episodes.

Baby Looney Tunes
Batman animated series
Cow and Chicken
Dexter's Laboratory
Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends
Johnny Bravo
Justice League
Samurai Jack
Yu-Gi-Oh GX

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kristy said...

, It’s a wonder I have not been electrocuted yet, with all the hand washing of delicates I do.

That Fabio is a demanding bitch!

Wang Gyrrl said...

"package peepers"

tee hee

HR said...

I'm guessing Fabio does have a picture of you on his bar. It's the one you sent him that's signed, "Fabio, it really is butter--your pal, Moist."

L A Ray said...

You know how I know you're gay? That's right, the autographed picture of Fabio on your bar.

AMAI said...

Eat meat, beer and cheese.
I thought you were going to describe those activities as the consolidated item with special meaning. Imagine my horror that you did not.

This helps promote the luxurious environment required when cleaning painting utensils or hand washing delicates. An electrical outlet, which provides power to the washer/dryer, looms perilously close to the tub, halfway up the wall. It’s a wonder I have not been electrocuted yet, with all the hand washing of delicates I do.

I love that you hand-wash delicates. I guess that makes me a fag-hag, right?

The only good thing about a photo of Fabio is that at least it doesn't exude his reputed-to-be horrible B.O. Trouble is, I can't even look at a picture of him now without imagining how much he stank during the photo shoot. You must have a stomach of steel.

Thanks for Blogging about this for us, Moist. I love reading your assignments. Makes me feel all gooey.

Will you hand-wash my delicates, Moist? I'll pour a beer, slice AND grate some cheese and fix rotisserie for you...

Leper Hopeful said...

That was the antithesis of laim. If I were an English teacher, I would give you at least an A, maybe an A+. Okay, who am I kidding, an A+ forsure. So good it hurts. Or is that herts...
Thinking of Moist handwashing delicates still cracks me up. But I'd watch out for the lawyer of the evicted bunnies. I hear they put together some sort of class action suit.

P.S. sid, kristy, wang gyrrl, awesome comments - and HR, classic!

P-Geo said...

I'm so glad that I picked your name in the Xmas grab bag back in 2002 and that you have found so much joy with the autographed Fabio photo.

For the record, the antique frame was purchased at the Dollar store. I don't recall the exact price paid, but I'm sure it was expensive.

One of your idols, Wink Martindale did a book signing in Hollywood a few months back. I called the bookstores and made arrangements to purchase his book and have Wink inscribe as follows:

"To Moist Rub ... We'll see who's laughing when I shove my Wink Monkey Dick up your ass!"

I'm am hopeful that I will have the book in time for the Leper House Christmas Party (sorry need to be PC ... "Holiday party" for those who are Jewish or worship Satan). By the way, The Party is Dec 2nd ... Invitations comming soon.

kristy said...

If there are going to be satan worshippers and jewish people, then count me in!!!