For several days now, I'd been thinking that Patrick and Caterina were a couple of lawless, bohemian rogues after I found, what appeared to be, a large jar of marijuana seeds in plain sight in the kitchen. There is enough here to start a pot plantation!
Turns out, they're just something called "lentils". I guess poor people eat them or something. Lame.
For those who don't know, my friend, Patrick, is an artist, and a talented one at that. I think it's fair to say both he and Caterina are art lovers. They have several friends who are artists and are frequently attending art openings. Over the years they've been together (most of them spent living in sin) Caterina and Patrick have built up quite a an art collection, in addition to Patrick's own works. I thought I would share with you a sampling of the multitude of pieces that adorn the walls of their tasteful home. Enjoy.
As I'm sure you've guessed, the last one is my favourite. So, just imagine being surrounded by all of this for two weeks and that will give you an idea of my present state of mind.
There is something about me that Caterina and Patrick know that not many other friends do. It’s not something I like to talk about. It’s not something anyone likes to talk about. I live with a fear, a phobia perhaps, which is so acute it affects nearly every facet of my life. My single greatest and deepest fear is: attack by stabbing robots.
My stabbing robot based anxiety first took root when I was a child. I stayed up late one night watching Showtime, fell asleep during Sleepaway Camp, and woke up to Short Circuit. Terrifying. Since then, I’ve never been able to separate the two films in my mind. Despite the improbability of the scenarios of either of those pictures, I have lived in constant fear of an impending demise administered by a slasher droid. Of course, my absolute worst fear is: [SPOILER WARNING] I befriend a lonely girl robot and have keep the US military from getting hold of her, but she turns out to be a transvestite boy robot who wants to stab me to death, and, all the while, Steve Guttenberg is falling in love with me. Nightmare.
Luckily, there is a nearly sure fire defense against this horror, which Caterina and Patrick were obviously aware of. For that, I am very grateful. As everyone knows, whether or not a psychotic robot is equipped with its own knives, it can easily be distracted by a display of knives, because they are greedy, knife-loving, killing machines. All you need to do is simply display an array of knives on the wall by fixing them to a magnetic strip; when a stabbing robot comes in the night, it will be drawn to the knives and then *SNAP*, it is held captive by the magnetic strip. In the morning, if you see a robot stuck to the wall, you call the robot authorities and then go out for breakfast, preferably Waffle House*.
No robots this morning. phew! We live to fight another day.
In these space age times of the year 2010, almost every normal person, who isn’t on welfare, owns a decent-sized flat-screen television. However, Patrick and Caterina are what some people might call “intellectuals”. Because of this, they have an antique television. It is impressively immense, if you are talking about total weight. Overall, it’s pretty crappy, with no surround sound and just a puny 30” tube as an excuse for a screen. In a feeble attempt to hide the shittiness of their TV, they surround it with "art" and make it wear a top hat. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but I think I feel sorry for the TV.
And if the television wasn't bad enough, have a look at their stereo:
... I'm surprised they don't make it wear an ascot.