You mother fuckers are making me hungry. Later, I am making Zuppa di Pesce. It is a seafood "soup" over linguine. Start with a heavy dose of garlic and olive oil, add seafood stock, crushed tomatoes, hot pepper, then onto squid, mussels, clams, some shrimp, and the best thing in the world, scungilli. Which is a giant sea snail that tastes like god's pussy. Let me tell you what you're missing: snails. Soft, slightly chewy, meaty, completely succulent little critters. Escargot makes me happy. I splurged on a bottle of Bollinger champagne to go with the meal. If it sucks, I will blame James Bond. This is really the only thing I care about the holidays anymore. Eating stuff I normally do not. And because I don't want to be left out: "See if there's a waste of fucking life named Murray, try that." "Gussy? Yeah, that's me."
I SWEAR TO GOD...If you hit that kid one more time I'm gonna take that pig's head and shove the whole thing RIGHT UP YOUR ASS. One more: Gus: "I'm looking for a friend of mine, he's kind of a short... fuckin'...loser." Bartender: "You just described everybody in the place. Ha!"
It confused the fuck out of me a couple years ago when I got invited to an Italian family's house for Christmas, and there was no Ham, only seafood. Seafood for Christmas? What the fuck? Apparently this is a thing.
Home on leave for two weeks, and all I can think of is, "I'm not getting laid for this?" I'm bored as shit in my parent's house with no way to go out and do things, not that I'd know what to do in this town. My brother's friends, whom I normally hang out with whenever I come home, are exactly the same as they were when I came home last year. Still doing the same old shit. My brother is in the hospital right now because his girlfriend went into diabetic ketoacidosis. It's noon, and there's nothing to do here but drink and do diddly-shit. At least Dad keeps the fridge stocked with Sam Adams and Sierra Nevada.
Take a minute to realize how lucky you are right there. I'd slap a nun for a glass of scotch right now.
I don't mind seafood, but something seems off about it. Too bad is wasn't the Hispanics instead. You know they'll be breaking out the Sangria during any celebration, which means going blackout off high proof candy-flavoured punch. I ask this ever year: what are you people attacking your brains and livers with these holidays? I have rum and a Ninja blender. And for once my beer fridge is filled with actual beer.
He also keeps the liquor cabinet well-stocked with scotch and bourbon, but he threatened to cut me the last time I took some. This is a 50-year-old actuary who winces before he swears.
Christmas Eve is the feast of the 7 fishes. It's a Catholic thing. Christmas Day? I have not a fucking clue what my dago brethren are "supposed" to eat. Some sort of roast and a pasta course. Dad was English, he demanded a roast. I looked into getting a goose, but there's no way I'm spending $80 on a bird. Who the fuck eats ham for Christmas? You are weird and should be ashamed. That's a New Year dinner. BOO THIS MAN. Christ, as a kid we used to do ham on New Year. Holy shit did I hate ham for so many years. The thing comes smoked and partially cooked. Everyone proceeds to cook the ever loving hell out it again until it is inedible. Fucking gag me. Gin. Making grapefruit martinis this afternoon.
I'm currently not attacking my liver. It is a new experience for me, normally I'd be half drunk already but I'm getting a lot done so maybe its not so bad. I haven't looked at the cabinet but I know I have plenty of my beer of choice and hopefully a bunch of vodka. I've been trying to drink less and eat better so I'll probably roll out vodka, water, and either lemon or lime juice if I go chasing my friend buzz.
My family is doing steaks this evening, ham tomorrow and a fried turkey on NYE. Should be good. In the meantime, me, my brother and Dad will be drinking at one of the awesome microbrews around here. And since my brother in law is back in Denver we'll be enjoying more beer and whiskey later. Should be a good time.
This is prep time for me. The superbowl is on new years where I get to combine alcohol, bbq, and fireworks.
We really should be friends. If there's one thing that makes me happy like a kid its drinking and fireworks.
Ok, I'll say it: I'm insanely jealous of you folks whom have a good family Christmas celebration. Be thankful. Even for the arguments. I have a lot to be grateful for, and I am, just wish things had turned out better with my family. This time of year brings it into sharp relief. So take it from me. If your family drives you nuts, at least they're there. That's worth a lot. Unfortunately, you don't figure that out until they're not there.
I need to harken back to R Kelly for a hot minute as he holds a special place in my heart along with Prince as the artist that people are super surprised to hear is in my top 10. Dude just has had a consistent inability to miss for 20 years. Yeah a down album here and there, Trapped in a Closet was dumb, but I can't think of a better hookman and when he's on, you can't touch him. Which brings me to my favorite R Kelly story I may have shared briefly here before. So about a year or two after I moved to Chicago, a house went up for foreclosure sale in Lincoln Park. The listing said "former celebrity owner" and some quick time with the internets left me with the distinct impression that this was R. Kelly's old place. So we set up a viewing during an open house. And my god. First of all, its a converted Baptist church, so its kind of a cavernous place that was gutted but still had a very open floor plan. So it was unique to start. But notable items included, a GIANT 2000 gallon aquarium with maintenance supplies from the Shedd Aquarium in the room behind it. A lap pool in a long, fairly narrow room that had mood lighting that changed various colors. A fully cedar hot tub and entertainment room. This room was the size of a family room with a big mounted TV and a bar, but an 10 person hot tub in the corner, while the whole place smelled like a cedar closet. At this point, there was plausible deniability as to whether it was actually Robert's house. Until we were shown the racquetball court converted to a basketball court...with A FUCKING SPACE JAM MURAL. Yes, there was a mural with MJ, the Looney Tunes characters, and I Believe I Can Fly. My friend and I reacted similar to those who are informed by Maury that they are not the father. We immediately asked to see the Master bedroom again knowing this was the place where he urinated on that eager young fan. One of my greatest regrets in life is the untimely death of my phone at the time, as it had 20-25 pictures of that house that I used to show at parties, first dates, and family events like I was Ansel Adams. Clearly someone had bought it from R. Kelly and planned on flipping it but ran out of money and thus had done nothing to it. It was like an eerie museum to R&B decadence. Related, I think one of the most amusing things about R. Kelly as well is how TERRIBLE he is with money. He's been in the game, making HUGE hits, and being successful for 20 years, yet I know two different Chicago properties, including this one, that he got foreclosed on, including his house in the suburbs very recently. And these are nice properties, but not extravagant. They both were up for sale in the $2-3MM range before the bank came in. Hardly wallet busters for someone like him, you would think.
I've never really done Christmas. We didn't as kids and I've never had reason to since then. The family is around and sometimes we get together over Christmas just for shits and giggles and that's cool. I suppose some day I'll have to learn this whole gift giving thing but until then its pretty much always just been a time to catch up on personal stuff while i'm off work for a couple days. I think it would be pretty cool to see the other side of the holiday for comparison.