the stories of
Apartment 8A
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08/17/05
Mike Bello, Joel Roselund, Doug Wright, Bill Swenson.
my fellow members of
the SAUSAGE CREW???!!
Me, Mike Bello-Owner of A8, proud and faithful beer drinker. (mostly Bud Ice) Having had no fun living at home, I started having people over drinking since the second or third day i moved in. It was a rarity for almost two years for there not to be someone else present and drinking with me almost every single night.
Douglas M. Wright -My proud-to-be-lazy friend from work, avowed Simpsons' and Jeopordy fan, alcohol-loving carouser. Also master of the flaming crotch. (This will be explained later, trust me)
Bill Swenson-another co-worker (not nearly as lazy) and beer drinker. Usually,. even when sober, he somehow manages to start singalongs. Though I'm still not sure why, but with a few beers in me I'm singing right along. Click on his name for his message.
Joel Roselund-yet another co-worker, albeit on-and-off again. He's not much of a beer drinker, but definitely the inovator of the first taped "episode" of A8. Though he has stopped coming around.........COME BACK, JOEL!!!!!
Message from Bello added on
3/27/02
Jen-A friend of ours from work who'd come up and hang out often. Reeeeally likes the Vodka.
Lisa-Doug's sister. She showed up every once in awhile. Usually Doug would get totally wasted and shout insults at her.
Renee-usually came up with Meg and Jamie.
John "Randall"-When John visited my place, he usually got smashed quick and made an ass of himself even quicker.wait 'til you hear some of HIS stories....
Brian Richford-this five-foot-2 "Straight-up" Crypt from florida was very annoying, always trying to tell everyone how he was such a bad-ass gangster down in the only state shaped like genitilia.
Amy Holton-This bitch was actually once concidered somewhat of a "friend. Fortunately, that changed once everyone realized what a back-stabbing, snotty, whiny, ugly, CONSTANTLY-COMPLAINING-pain-in-the-ass she really was.
The Fat Boys or "The Brothers Big"-I know it's not nice to make fun of people with weight issues. Hell, I used to be fat myself. But these two lard-lovin', theiving, tubs of goo deserve whatever cruelty i dish to them. The younger one, 14, is six feet 2 and weighs in at 300. The older one, "Big Willie" is six feet 5 and weighs in at a whopping 350 pounds.
Shannon Nicholson-major pot smoker who always managed to end every sentence with the word "Hey."
Nick Ertsgard-a rather scrawnny little man who also smoked a lot of weed and drank quite a bit of Natty Ice while playing Tekken 3. His common phrase was "That's a phat beat, dude!"
8:00-drag my tired body up my hill and get home.
8:00-9:00-watch a little T.V. and wait for "a call'.
Sometime soon after 9:00-get "a call" from Doug or Briain richford
or someone else.here's how a typical conversation would sound...
"hello?"
"Bello! What's up?"
"Nothing. Why?"
"You doing anything tonight?" (a polite way to ask, "You going to be home all night?")
"Nah. Just relaxin' here."
"....Is it alright if I (or we) come over?"
"Yeah. Sure. Come on over. By the way, get me some Bud Ice?" (Doug calling usually meant "Packy run" for me. )
"Sure. See you later."
"Bye."
...And that was the typical "call" night after night, no matter who called. It got to the point where it seemed like it was almost a given that I was going to have people over every night. Sometimes, i don't even think i would get a call, they'd just show up! So we'd all be stting there, on my age-old couch watching the Simpsons, drinking, smoking butts, and listening to Brian Richford lecture us on how he was such a tough gnag banger and how he shot sooo many people...it almost got to be a comedy routine at times. If watching the TV or listening to Brian Richford's endless rambling, it was the drinking game Asshole. Doug taught me how to play this game three years ago. (I admit, I'm still learning. how can i be expected to remember if I'm already half-cocked?) Ususally, that's how the night would end. We'd all be sitting around on the floor at one or two in the morning and playing a final round of asshole before everyone would shuffle out the door. The next morning, i would grudingly wake up, shower, and stagger in for a nine hour shift of work. then drag my tired body up my hill and get home. Watch a little TV and wait for "a call"......
Thus, setting the stage for my place being the chosen place for everyone to hang out at, staying later and later and leaving more and more stains on the floor. (After the first week, I'd given up on the carpeting. I knew damn well it was already ruined.)
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A TALE OF TWO GUYS, A GIRL, A TINY CAR, ONE LOOOONG JOURNETY ACROSS AMERICA AND MYSTERY LIQUID