Home is glorious. I am at home now. I am sitting at the kitchen table with my laptop while my father reads the paper and has some Hershey miniatures. He's like clockwork. He'll have a lemonade (now that he's given up tea and iced-tea products for health reasons) and a bowl of pretzels in 4 hours and then hit the sac. It's so easy here.
I had a steak sandwich for dinner, and it was perfect. It was so nice to have it right.
Imagine: a world where you don't have to PREFACE that NO, SIR, I would NOT like mayo, lettuce, tomato, or mustard on your steak sandwich. Just steak, onions and goop that may or may not have once been a cheese-like substance.
It's a thing. When I come home, there's a list of people I have to see. Family. Friends. Franzone's Pizza. It's like home to me, that pizza place. I might want to have my funeral party there. Or my wedding, I can't tell.
Keep that in mind for the story I have regarding the chinatown bus and my trip back to the glorious Filth-a-delphia. It rocks.
here's a sneak peak.