I cleaned out my big room at the B Street house yesterday afternoon so Canopener could move in tomorrow. He was supposed to kick down $270 for the room before I left for The Cramps, but I told him if he didn’t have the cash not to worry. We could take care of it later. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to come through anyway. I hope he will be able to take care of it this week along with dough Vanessa owes me for my other room.

Canopener is a childhood aquaintance of mine. When we were little both of us attended the same grade school, but we weren’t friends. Myself and another kid, named Tony, used to mess with Canopener all the time. He was much bigger than we were and if I remember right we were behind him by a year or two. What made him so much fun to pick on was the way he would go totally out of control on the blacktop at recess. We called him names like Can Opener and Gnip Gnop, and he freaked out. He would start doing figure eights in the air with his fists and yell and try to kill us. Then he left the school and I pretty much never saw him again.

He lived on the next hillside up from where my parent’s house was. Both of his folks died when we were high school age, and he was left a ton of cash. Guess both him and his younger brother went kinda haywire for a long time since nobody was supervising them and they had loads of loot. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and go outside my parent’s house to discover hundreds of broken records in our front yard and all over in the street. If it wasn’t vinyl records, maybe it was hundreds of tennis balls. The overnight rain of items I would run across changed from time to time. I found out many years later that was all Canopener’s work. They were launching or throwing shit off their back deck which overlooked our street below.

A couple months back I ran into Canopener at Autumn’s brother’s house. He had just driven 6+ hours from Crescent City and needed a place to stay for a couple of nights. William, Jay, and Adam refused to let him stay there for the night which meant he was going to have to sleep in his truck. His truck had holes in the cab and it was going to rain that night. I was really disappointed in the guys because they wouldn’t let the man sleep one rainy night on their livingroom couch so I invited him over to stay with us at B Street. It seemed like the right thing to do. Now I’m moving out of B Street for good, and Canopener just got himself a room. I feel good about that.

Canopener told me a pretty nice story about Adam and his girlfriend Marci the other day. I don’t talk much to Adam anymore for a variety of reasons, one of which happens to be that he treats Marci so damn bad I don’t want to be anywhere around when it’s happening. It really bothers me. Anyway, Canopener was walking through the Old Vic (which is a local bar I try not to go to anymore) and he saw Adam and Marci sitting at a table eating the Old Vic’s bland English food and drinking beers. Adam saw Canopener and instantly waved him over to their table. Adam offered him a beer. When the bill came, Marci paid. As usual. Adam never has a dime to spend on that poor girl. The funny thing was that Marci made a comment to Canopener about me. She said that whenever she talks to me I seem to be thinking of something else. I must admit, Marci is a perceptive lady because I usually am thinking of something else while she’s yapping at me. Canopener said to her, “Factory Peasant is thinking of something else. He’s thinking of ways to kill you, Marci.”


~ by factorypeasant on September 30, 2005.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: