Philadelphia 2 - This time with more AIDS!

I can honestly say I have never sat through the movie Philadelphia. When I was younger I avoided it because I thought it might give me AIDS (times were different back then). Now I can't sit through it because the premise seems absurd. People don't get AIDS anymore. That was so 1990. At least that is what I thought until I saw my brother the other day. I went to run some absurd errand with him that involved us driving to the San Gabriel Valley to get a permit for some sort of art show that he plans to put on in the park (lies, but might be good for another post). I pull up to his place and he walks out looking like a homeless Tom Hanks and this time Denzel won't represent him.

Let me break the outfit down for you. He is wearing all black Nike sneakers, the kind you wear if you are waiter or a nurse. I didn't see his socks, but let's just assume they were torn to shreds. Move on to the pants, Brooks Brothers, wool pleated suit pants, funny enough purchased roughly the same time Philadelphia came out. I would say pleated says it all, but I was told that the previous day one of his friends informed him that his pants had the distinctive odor of vomit, so I am pretty sure vomit trumps pleated. The shirt, XXXL dry-fit with a week's worth of crumbs stuck all over. On top of the shirt was a filthy Patagonia fleece that looked like it was purchased during freshman orientation at Brandeis. Moving on to the face, the perfect cancer beard. You know the kind that makes people think, poor thing, he clearly is dying. Finally we get to the baseball hat, the same cancer description applies here as well. Each item was gross on their own, but together it created some sort of Voltron animal of disgust. If I knew the words to the Bruce Springsteen Philadelphia song, now would be a good time for me to sing them. If I had a time machine and a jar full of AIDS, I could easily make some money having my brother be Tom Hanks's stand-in. It was all very sad. Hopefully my brother can get to a doctor before his condition worsens.

He covered his face out of shame!

Han Solo has dementia and I have diarrhea

I should say had diarrhea since this this story is a week old. Captain Solo still has dementia though.

It all started in a galaxy far away that I like to call Brentwood. It was Wednesday night and I was driving my land speeder to my brother's for an early dinner before my class. Traffic was a complete nightmare. I think a couple of droids got run over in front of Mos Eisley's cantina and there wasn't a jawa in sight to clean it up. With traffic being a complete nightmare, my brother thought it would be a good time to go to a local sushi place that I had previously told him was delicious. That was ten years ago and we both know my palette is much more refined now. I was down for going anywhere close as long as there were no sand people there (with or without the Star Wars joke it sounds amazingly racist).

We got to the sushi place around 6PM and there wasn't another customer in sight. Now when we are dealing with raw fish, not having many customers can cause one to worry, but I was still being optimistic. We sat at the bar and ordered a few pieces. Each piece made me wish I had shot first, but it was too late. The damage was done to my midi-chlorian. As I sat there chewing wookie meat, who do you think walked in the door? It was none other than Han Solo himself (with an earring) and what I would assume was Princess Leia after she went on a hunger strike. There was also a child but he looked more adopted than Skywalker. Everyone that worked in the restaurant said "Hello Captain Solo, your usual table with your back to the wall?" He said of course and sat down with one hand on his blaster while keeping the other free for his chop sticks. I overheard him order a bunch of rotten fish while I sat sadly realizing my hero clearly had early onset Alzheimer's. I mean I had an excuse as to why I went to this dump. It had been ten years and I was young. He clearly goes there all the time. Maybe with all the trouble in the middle east, it is too expensive to take the falcon more than a few parsecs past his mansion.

Now on to the death star in my bowels. After we finished eating, I needed something to get the horrible taste out of my mouth. I made my brother stop at Coffee Bean where I got myself a piece of coffee cake. I have no clue why I ordered it. I never eat coffee cake. Anyway, I shoved the entire piece in my mouth in a fashion that would have made Jabba proud. As we walked to the car I felt that as if there was a direct hit to my core reactor. Sweat started pouring down my face. I had planned to have my brother drop me at class as I couldn't bear to get back in my speeder, but I had to have him take me to his place instead. Since this is a Star Wars post I might as well accurately describe my brother's apartment. Remember the trash compactor scene? That is me being kind. I ran in his place and made the biggest toilet paper nest you have ever seen on a seat that was more dried piss than plastic. Even with the nest, I used my best Yoda impersonation to levitate over the bowl. I destroyed the bowl like George Lucas destroyed my childhood memories (Star Wars coming soon in 3D!)

I made it to class 45 minutes late. Master Windu was none too pleased.