Running (On Empty) Tally

Number of times Carmine has ran out of gas on Dufferin Street this year: 3.

I Can't Explain It

It would be pointless to try to understand how it happened, or why it happened. But twice today, Carmine's vehicle ran out of gas. Once on the way to work, and once on the way home.

2 Dollar Productions said...

That sounds like a post needs to be dedicated to that story.

So, here we go with The Old Man and the Goat as told by WIGSF.

Let me take you back to the summer of 2001. The world was a happy place, the birds were singing, the bees were buzzing around, and that plucky man named Carmine was preparing to celebrate his 50th birthday. For the party, Carmine had flown in some of his relatives from Italy, notably his sister V. and his brother P. With V and P attending, this had to be one exciting party.

Carmine spent every free minute leading up to the party preparing his house for his party guests. His basement, a walkout basement, needed to be completed. He did almost every bit of construction himself. Only the gas, electrical and framing required actual professional help. Everything else, Carmine did himself.

The backyard also needed much work. Carmine built a gazebo and dug a pond, complete with fish. The pond was being continuously fed with water from a shallow but long waterfall built beside the gazebo. All the backyard landscaping was completed as well. That included regrading half of the yard to raise it a full two feet.

But finally, the summer was ending and the party was commencing. People came from near and far to celebrate with Carmine: his relatives from Italy were here; friends from the United States made the long drive; and neighbours from next door walked on over.

For the party, some t-shirts were made and worn. The t-shirt featured a picture of Carmine, wearing a bib, eating baby food. That would make sense if the picture was taken when Carmine was still a baby, but alas, the photo was taken after Carmine was a full grown man with a full grown mustache.

As the party raged on and on, Carmine and his brother P disappeared. Carmine appeared a little bit later in front of me with a task to perform. "Gimme a plain white t-shirt and a black marker."

"Are you drunk Carmine?"

"I'm fine, just gimme the stuff, and quick."

I obliged. It seemed like an odd request but I thought "What's the worst that can happen? He could write something stupid on a t-shirt. Whoopiddy-friggen-doo."

After handing the items to Carmine, he went his way, I went mine. Mine meant back into the party, picking up dishes, serving drinks, general party hosting stuff. Carmine's way was into the garage.

The party had been going for some time. Many of the party-goers had settled down inside the basement. Or were as settled as people drinking Louis XIII cognac can be. In the distance, a weird braying sound was heard and dismissed, but not by me. I walked towards the sound, towards the staircase up into the house only to find a goat wearing a t-shirt stumbling down the stairs. Written on the shirt was the name of Carmine's visiting sister.

The goat, having lived it's entire life on a farm, was obviously frightened by the new environment. It screamed and brayed and began running around the basement. Women jumped up on their chairs like a blonde housewife from a 1950s animated short. Men laughed and pointed at Carmine trying to chase down the frightened goat.

The sight of the goat pretty much killed the party. After the shock of seeing the goat running around and the joke of this goat apparently being some sort of double for Carmine's sister grew tiresome, Carmine and P. returned the goat to the garage for the night. But the garage was where the garbage from the party, after being collected into bags, was being placed. The goat spent the rest of the night eating its way through the garbage bags and into the discarded waste from more than 50 people eating dinner.

The next morning, I awoke to find that the goat was let out of the garage after having not just scattering the garbage, but also for pooping in the garage. Carmine had took the goat and leashed it to a tree in the front yard. This let all the neighbours driving by see a goat running around the front yard.

Later that day, I asked Carmine "Where did you get that goat?"

"I know a guy, I paid him a couple bucks to let me take a goat for a night?"

"So, you rented a goat."

"Yeah. My brother left the party to go pick up the goat and we dressed it a t-shirt."

Let me just say this, cleaning that garage was not fun at all.

What Did He Just Say

"How many sixteenths are there in an inch?"

Erotic Steaks

Carmine barbecued some steaks last night. Usually, when Carmine makes a steak, he makes them pretty red and bloody inside. I can't eat those. I need my steaks well-done.

Last night, Carmine came into the kitchen with the cooked steaks, and they looked a bit burnt.

"Sorry, but I think I over cooked the steaks tonight," Carmine said.

"Hmmm... Maybe I'll have one. If you overcooked the steaks, that small one over there is probably well-done all the way through," I commented.

I reached for this tiny steak and put it on my plate. I cut into it and it was perfect. Dark all the way through, not a bit of red or pink.

Juice turned to me and said "That's not a steak, that's too small. It's like the cow's testicle or something."

Carmine picked his head out of his plate, pointed to my steak and gave me and Juice some wisdom. "Cows don't have testicles. Cows are females. That steak you're eating, that's the cow's vagina."

Carmine's Wardrobe

Carmine's clothing is unique. You know that one mannequin in the store that makes you think "Wow, who would ever wear that?" That's Carmine.

Today, Juice and I ventured to Carmine's favourite clothier. We walked in and Juice said "Carmine sent us." It was like the gates of heaven had opened for us. I saw colours I never knew existed. I saw numbers beyond comprehension, (Carmine spends too much on clothes).

I'm not one for name dropping, but having access to Carmine's is a goldmine.

Carmine Prepares For Christmas

Carmine's annual Christmas tradition of waiting until the very last minute to do everything occured last night. He arrived home with a trunk full of panatones with the intention of packaging them with some wine.

The dilemma this year was a lack of gift bags. Carmine didn't think to check the bags at home to see if they could actually fit a full panatone and a bottle of wine. He also neglected to check to see if he had enough bottle gift bags.

This is a very similar dilemma to the one he faced last year. But unlike last year, I am refusing to do all the running around and waiting in lines at gift bag stores just to buy a couple of gift bags. Carmine can do it himself this year. That can be his gift to me. My gift to him, a lesson in self-reliance.