05/09/2006 - 8:29 p.m. | i bleed optimism

Because I don't really like anything besides bitching about Omar, here are the latest updates in that highly-specialized area:

1) So, the house was empty, and I had my music turned up a little louder than usual. Old 97's. Omar comes in, stomps up the stairs (the man never walks - his presence must be announced in all cases), and yells as he passes, "You have the worst fucking taste in music, man."

I actually couldn't retort this I'm laughing so hard. I am practically breathless for my hyucking, and none of the phrases I manage to choke out ("hippie-related turd music -" / "who got that hydro -" / "and you think I'm the one who - ") really get the thought across.

2) But, what do I know? Omar told me and Shelly earlier today that we were, what did he say? "lacking in culture," I think.

On an unrelated note, he spent 15 minutes rolling on the floor guffawing at this Towelie soundboard he managed to stumble upon online. "Wanna get high?" in a squeaky voice blasted at amazing decibles. Raccous laughter for 15 seconds. Repeat.

And it only gets better when he starts trying to play it for somebody that calls him on the phone. They don't hear it the first time, so he tries to turn the volume up. This is apparently a much more complicated process than I would have thought, for I hear him grunting and swearing for two minutes before he finally gets it playing (now at eardrum-shattering levels). He yells to us, "Isn't that the fucking funniest thing, you guys?" We are showing housespace with a ten year old boy.