field notes from the vault.

once upon a time, in a land far, far away, called richmond, virginia, my sister ab and i used to be in near constant contact, either via email, or sometimes phone(i had not crossed over to the dark side of text messages yet). ab used to work in a biology lab with a bunch of losers that she and her friend jason gave code names to, like "the duck" or "squirrel head" (who i once met when we ran into her at the movie theatre in ashland. the nickname was totally appropriate). anyhow, at that point ab had a lot of extra time at work to contemplate how much she loathed her job, and my job was at night most of the time, so our schedules were pretty condusive to our exchanging weird emails all day long. it was kind of our thing. when we were little and lived in the same house, we used to write notes to each other impersonating famous people and leave them on each others beds. morrissey, the johns from they might be giants, dj tommy knappy from WDRE, spiro t. agnew. that sort of thing.

anyhow, i can't really explain how i stumbled across this gem of an email exchange today, but the point is, i did. and i just had to post it, for posterity. as far as i can remember, this took place the day after a particularly long night of drinking in the middle of the week(which was also something we used to do a lot more of back then). important things to note: hunter thompson was still alive and writing a column for espn at this time, and in the midst of these emails ab composes one of the greatest hangover analogies of all time. watch for it.

xo, lb.



spelling errors and all that shit are as-is

lolan27@yahoo.com wrote:

HOLY CRAP! i totally fell asleep. that was number 2 on my to-do list today, but i didn't suspect it would have such a staggering impact on my email-you-guys-all-day plan. christ. i suck. ok, so i'm back on it. expect an email every two minutes or so. first up... dija hear that the ricky williams has to pay the dolphins back like 8 million....and guess what. he's studying HOLISTIC MEDICINE out in california. this is the storyline of the century, yo. they should have a television show about it, like "what is ricky williams up to this week?".

on episode two, ricky williams can study to become a midwife. on episode three, an organic farmer. the possibilities are ENDLESS. just like with our t-shirts. btw, the mailman hasn't brought me any fuzzy iron-on letters. what gives?

see you in two,
hola hovito



----------------------------------

aball7350@comcast.net wrote:

yes, i believe there's massage therapy thrown in there too... and your idea is superb. He needs his own show if anyone does. I think my brain has officially shut down for the day. I don't actually know what i'm saying, things are just kind of finding their way out of my brain against all odds... like little children trapped in a well. i wish I could fall asleep. sleepy time. oh, and i don't think you'll be getting any fuzzy letters today. Although I did start thinking that we should start a little business action... what do you think??


------------------------------------
lolan27@yahoo.com wrote:

first of all, i hope you are replying to everyone when you send me these messages. chrissy is an intregal part of this email barrage, and she should be getting just as much email as everyone else.

second of all, i'm going to conveniently forget that you have not arranged to have fuzzy iron-on letters arrive at my house today. i know you are having a rough one. but those letters better show up eventually. YES. WE SHOULD GO INTO BUSINESS. WE WILL BE RICH.

third of all, that sentance you wrote, about things finding their way out of your brain against all odds, like little children trapped in a well, is perhaps the most brilliant sentance, analogy, what have you EVER WRITTEN. it's getting it's own page on the quote blog. just you wait.

fourth(ly?)(im tired of writing "of all") i finally got most of the way through the dish disaster in my sink, and i have realized that we have quite a bit of your plates, cups and such. i have also realized that i should hold these items for ransom until i get my magnetic fields cd that sarah borrowed back, as i know what can happen in those instances. so, i'm holding your shit for ransom. consider yourself served.

fifthly, i have discovered that the body shop's coconut body butter smells EXACTLY like the barbie dream kitchen that i had as a poor misguided lass back in the burbs of strong island. you can take a few minutes to have a good laugh at my expense, regarding my playing with barbies, or being a loser, but just let me remind you, the lameness of my youthful existence is not in question. so there. as for the scent, it is perhaps the most amazing smell i have ever had the pleasure of inhaling in all my years. when i hit it rich with our t-shirts, i am going to buy a lifetime supply of the body shop's coconut body butter.

toodles,
warren g. (harding, the dumbest president)


---------------------------------------


aball7350@comcast.net wrote:

what if we make the t-shirts smell like the barbie dream kitchen?!?!?!? maybe it'll have a hypnotic effect on people and they will want to buy more shirts and their friends will want to buy shirts too. why do i get the feeling that i'm actually channeling nibbles' plans for total world domination right now?? scary...

most things you say in your emails today i am imagining you saying while throwing your head back and doing the woo ha ha haaaa laugh. And if you don't understand what i'm talking about lean your head back and sound it out. oh, and use your most deep sinister voice possible.

are you nibbles?? i want to come home.


------------------------------------
lolan27@yahoo.com wrote:

you are spot on with the throwing my head back and laughing thing. are you in my house? how did you know that? nibbles? where are u?

i am absolutely positive that if we make our t-shirts smell like the barbie dream kitchen that we will edge out bill gates as the richest person(s) in the universe. we can't lose, i'm telling you, this smell makes me want to curl up in a little ball and roll around smelling myself and giggling for THE REST OF TIME. my lord, it's brilliant.

if you are still stuck at work, i recommend getting your ass over to espn and reading the sports guys intern finalist profiles...it's insane. and also, read this, the hunter s. thompson plan for the best sport ever. http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=thompson/050216&num=1

you can thank me later.

----------------------------------

aball7350@comcast.net wrote:


since you have failed to respond to my most recent email, i must assume that your head has exploded from the ingenious idea of giving your boss a shirt entitled "the BOH is my daddy". or perhaps you've asphixiated yourself on barbie dreamhouse cream. either way. the chain is broken. the wrath of nebekinezzer or whatever his name is shalt be incurred.

---------------------------------
lolan27@yahoo.com wrote:

yeah, i slacke-d the fuck off again. i think i may have permanently injured my brain with all the tylenol flu, yo. it's like, not working.

if we were to give jared a tee that read "the BOH is my daddy" that smelled like the barbie dreamhouse, i think it would render the rest of my life extemperaneous, as i would have already achieved all anyone could hope to achieve before shuffling off this mortal coil.

i gots to go get kels. i may have to come and get some t.p. we are at a critical low over here. talk to you soon.