Sarah says hi

Oh noes

Tequila time

Bar 3

Wink

Friday drinks

Here!

Ode to my Garmin

Oh how I love thee Garmin
From the sky you point the direction
Your voice demanding yet soft
The back woods are your friend
and the city doesn't scare you

Show me the way Garmin
point me anywhere...

Where is the boss?

Xmas

Merry chistmas

1970 Ipod

Number2

Shot in the head and im ok

We get it

Christmas drinks

Food time

Browne family christmas

Pre christmas casino

Christmas

Cooking pizza

Hanging out with smalls

Happy winter solstice...

Happy winter solstice to everyone. listen

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AJ's 2nd Call

Fun

Cant resist

Guess which one is mine

One empty and one full

Doing What's Best (written 2002)

I wrote this story my 2nd year of college and never really made any changes (as you can see from Draft 1 on the right). I think it was one of my first and the character of the mother is over worked as well as most of the descriptions. This eventually found its way to a group of vegetarians in my school who enjoyed it greatly.

I plan on putting up some other old writings but I don't want to cluster them together.

Steve Browne

Creative Writing

Draft 1

Doing what’s best

The Tuesday meal of spaghetti and meatballs, is very common in the Callard family. Mrs. Callard has cooked filet mignon, chicken cordon bleu and fine steaks. She is not a bad cook; but since she has had her son she finds herself economy cooking for the past 17 years. Of course there was one time where she left chicken legs in the oven, forgot about them, took the dog for a walk, and came back with the fire department in her kitchen. Nothing serous happened, the chicken scorched and smoked just enough to make the fire alarm on their security system go off. The firemen where there in full gear about six minutes later. Living in a small town the volunteer firefighters love to hang out at the firehouse. Mr. Callard still jokes about how she burned down the house.

Mrs. Callard refuses to buy the store bought sauce; she always complains that,”You never know what is put in there” and “Why should I pay $4.50 when tomatoes cost $1.25 a pound.” Frugal is a good word to describe Mrs. Callard but most of the time her son uses cheap or stingy. In her grocery bags there is wine from a box, never from the bottle. She buys the store brand potato chips although she knows that she likes the taste of the name brand more. She likes fancy cars but her 1990 Mitsubishi Precis is still running so it is still good to her. Money is an important agenda in her life but in times of necessity she is the first to spend the money that she earned.

Two years ago her sister “Aunt Louise” was sent into the hospital for an emergency procedure. The doctors said they had to remove part of the liver as soon as possible or elce the canser will destroy her entire liver and spread to other vital organs. As soon as Mrs. Callard heard this she drove to the hospital, dropped her debit card off at the desk, and sprinted to her sisters room. Her sister was not poor but Mrs. Callerd knew that she didn’t have health insurance. The procedure worked and no canser has been detected since. When “Aunt Louise” tried to pay her pack she wouldn’t accept it, instead she just smiled and called it, “my late dues on the little sister tax.” Now the two sisters meet every Thursday for coffee.

I didn’t meet with Louise this week she thought to herself as the spaghetti is poured out of the box. It’s frail and the use of two much force shatters the sticks into small fragments. The small sticks bounce on the linoleum floor as Morgan, there family dog, hears the noise. In no time at all the small chocolate brown Dotson is beside Mrs. Callard searching out the tiny peace of uncooked spaghetti. Mrs. Callard doesn’t even notice the dog since it has happened so many times before; she just proceeds to put the spaghetti into the boiling water. After all the full strands of the spaghetti are in the pot she proceeds to cover the top with the lid leaving a crack exposed to let the steam float out.

As a child Laura would play with her dolls, Making there beds at night, reading story’s to them, and even bandaging there imagined booboos. Everywhere she went there also went a plastic stroller with her dolls in them. The dolls she cared for consisted of her favorite three. There was only three, which was the perfect number of children she thought, three, two girls and a boy. On the weekends this pretend family would go on excursions. This particular weekend they decided to go to the nearby pond to go swimming at the beach. She packed her “children” in the walker and walked down the town road to the pond. The summer sun came out of the morning clouds and began to heat the earth. When the family arrived she was sweating but a quick swim can cure that she thought. She laid out the blanket and applied sunscreen to the dolls then herself, as well as she could reach. She told the dolls to stay there and wait until mommy came back, and then she ran into the lake.

“Is dinner ready yet?” Luke isn’t really that hungry but he likes to pester his mother, lovingly. He jokes around with his parents a lot, they have a TV sitcom relationship where there isn’t any real bickering but when there is it all ends up with some kind of moral showing through. Of course it is not always perfect, when last year Mrs. Callard found pot in Luke’s pocket she was engulfed in fury. Without hesitation she when to the rec. courts three miles down the road, grabbed Luke in the middle of his game, pulled him to her car, and proceeded to explode in front of him. She went on about how hard that his father and she worked to give him an opportunity to get ahead in life and all that pot was doing is “flushing it down the toilet”. Ever since then Luke didn’t try pot again, he drank every once and a while but only when there was no danger of getting caught. He couldn’t face his mother like that.

Luke grew up and matured over the previous year, he found new friends; he began to concern himself more in school based activities, and is now dating the class president Tasha Brook. Tasha is a fine girl who influenced Luke that killing animals is wrong. Luke ate meat, he loved the occasional steak. He never really liked burgers or roast beef so he figured maybe it was a good idea not to kill animals, it can’t hurt. His full vegetarianism lasted a week and three days until his mother forgot about his new found love of domesticated animals and cooked barbequed chicken wings on the grill. The smell of lightly basted sizzling flesh hit his nose and taste buds like a hammer. He began salivating instantly and needed to eat a leg. From then on it was just red meat that he wouldn’t eat.

“No and it won’t be for a while, go watch TV.” Mrs. Callard swung open the old refrigerator door. The screw keeping the door connected to the rest of the refrigerator squeaks gently but it goes unnoticed by the two in the kitchen because it happened so many times before. She reaches into the bottom shelf where the left over broiled chicken from yesterday is. It is still sitting there wrapped in the Christmas green plastic wrap. She grabs the cold poultry and begins to close the door. As she is closing the door she notices a plate with the same green wrapping on it. The door again opens making the squeal more noticeable now because of the slower motion used. Mrs. Callard grabs the plate and looks around to see if Luke is still around.

Ever since Luke began his no red meat diet he has also preached to his family to do the same. Some time Luke would even pretend to gag when he saw his family members eat the meat. Mr. Callard just laughed “you are lucky we have enough to eat to be picky about what you eat.” Mr. Callard loved his steak, loved to boil his own lobster, loved to go hunting pheasant and bring that home to eat. He never thought about giving up anything and meat would be the last thing on his list. Mr. Callard’s father was an immigrant who would say grace before every time he ate; when he was a child eating was not as common. Luke used to joke about how Pop-pop must praise his tic-tac before he ate that. Mr. Collard didn’t say grace before every meal but his father still instilled in him a sense of thanks for the food he received.

The tomato sauce was beginning to boil in the pan and small chunks of tomato where being shifted around geysers of sauce that erupted around them. It was time to put the chicken in. Since there are no longer meatballs in the spaghetti then Mrs. Callard decided that chicken should go in the sauce. She tears off the crunchy broiled skin of the chicken and threw it into the sink. Then inserting a knife at the highest part of the leg she slowly slid down the muscle until it was sliced cleanly through. With her hands she tore the muscle off of the tendon, and then tore that into smaller peaces. When she had a pile of meat and a pile of bones she smiled softly.

Laura came out of the water with her fingers now prunes and her lips were a light shade of blue. She hopped up the sandy beach to her towel ware the dolls where still laying waiting for her to get back. She grabbed the extra towel in the stroller that she took form the main bathroom closet. As she wiped her legs she asked her “children” what had happened while she was away. The dolls told her how the boy threw sand at the two girls and how it got in one of their eyes. The young girl slicked her hair back violently and shook her head at the boy. She said how she had worked all day just to get the time off to come to the beach with her children and this is how he repays her. She grabbed the boy in her fit of pretend rage and walked him over to the nearest tree, where she sat him down, facing it. Ten minutes in time out she said as walked away imagining how disgusted she was with him.

Mrs. Callard then unwrapped the other plate with the green plastic wrap around it and pulled out a burger. This was a 100% all beef patty (store brand of course) cooked over the weekend for her husband. He only ate two of the three burgers that she cooked for him so one was left over. Thinking to herself she didn’t want it to go bad she began to break up the burger into small pieces. The pieces where as small as she could get them, to a point where they looked like a pile of lightly browned crumbs. After the entire burger was broken down into small pieces she combined the pile of chicken with the pile of meat crumbs. Her conscience began to nag, but she had a logical reason for what she was doing. It’s just a phase he is going through for that girlfriend of his, and it’s not healthy for him as a teenager not to eat meat. I know what’s best for him, I am his mother. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t lookout for the well being of my only son. With the new reassurance that she received she dumped two handfuls of the mixture into the sauce, stirred, and tasted it. Perfect.

As Laura got back to her angelic daughters she saw her next door neighbor Ted by the road. She yelled his name and sprinted toward him. He saw her, rolled his eyes, and in a sigh he got out hi Laura. She began to tell him about her other neighbors, the guy to the right’s dog Spot, how Mr. Randal burned leaves and it smelled bad, and the “stop ahead” sign on their road was missing. Ted acted polite as usual and smiled to please her knowing that her rant would end eventually. The one-sided conversation ended bluntly when Ted mentioned the time and Laura realized that she needed to get home for church. She said goodbye to Ted, ran off to the dolls, threw them into the carriage and raced home.

The family sat down at the dinner table. The plates have already been served and are steaming. Morgan has assumed his normal position underneath the table with his head on Mr. Callard's foot. Holding hands Mr. Callard begins his thankful prayer that his father has taught him. At the end of the prayer the entire family says, “Amen” and begin to work on the plates given to them. Mrs. Callard is never worried about if Luke is going to find out there is meat in his food, she knows he cannot tell. She smiles lightly and looks over to Mr. Callard. Mr. Callard gives her the I don’t know what you’re smiling about look and then he smiles lightly back because he knows it will please her. All three are quiet during dinner with only talk about how the neighbors came over earlier to ask if they can barrow the grill for there family cookout next weekend.

The family finishes dinner and put the plates into the dish washer. Luke goes off to his room because he wants to get a start on his English paper and Tasha will be calling soon. Mr. Callard goes to the couch where he turns the TV to the history channel. It is most likely another “Great Battles of World War 2” although he has already seen them all. Mrs. Callard puts the rest of the dishes into the dish washer and starts it up. Then she joins Mr. Callard on the couch where they just sit, snuggling.

Laura and her real family get back from Saturday night mass. The family breaks to there own business, her father goes to work on the car that is never fixed, her mother is finishing up on another meat and potatoes dinner, while she goes to her room to play with her dolls. The toys are all put away in her toy box and her books are in the shelves over her bed. The stroller is in the middle of the room where she left it to get ready for church. Sand falls out of the towel when she rolls it up and places it into the hamper. The two girls are lying in the stroller looking up, almost longing for there mother. Laura takes them out and brushes off the sand on them. She reaches into the stroller once more to get out there brother but the stroller is empty. Panic fires threw her body and instantly she remembers where he is, in time out. Her eyes swell and tears begin to run down her cheeks. Confronting her mother, almost hysterical, she told the story of why they need to go back to the pond. Her mother, still preparing dinner, told her it was too late to go to the pond. Laura broke down into a tantrum yelling at the top of her lungs. Her mother not even looking at her said, “how will you ever be a good mother if you don’t even know what’s best for your dolls? We can go tomorrow to see if it is still there but I doubt it.” Laura ran to her room and she cried herself to sleep.

The phone rings and Luke runs out of his room to pick it up.

“Hey Tasha, I’m good, nothing much but my mother made the best spaghetti tonight.” Luke smiled in a lovingly joking way to his mother.

“You know that spaghetti did taste very good today Hun. Was it a new recipe?”

“I tried something new and it worked, that’s all.” Now she smiled full blown not being able to hold it back anymore. Mr. Callard looked at her confused like he missed a joke then shrugged it off and began to watch his show again.

Connecting

I have been setting up some new internet toys so I can be as connected as possible to this one page.

I truly have enjoyed documenting my silly existence and posting Superfluous things. I linked my Youtube account to this blog so future movies can get posted quicker (AJ's phone message was the first). My phone will post pictures to this Blog but now if I feel the need I can Jott whatever I say directly here. I can post movies from my phone straight here as well (although I do not do that much).

I continue to check out more ways to put things on the internet.

Since I have decided to put my life on the internet I figure why not put up some older stuff that I did as well...

Another test

Test

AJ's Phone call

This Morning I received a very nice message from my buddy AJ. As I listened to it while getting ready I thought I should share it with everyone.

This is a test of Jott it

This is a test of Jott it

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Christmas is Coming

Christmas is a week away.

I don't like Christmas. I like when the family gets together and we have a couple drinks and joke around, that part is fun, but other that that it seems entirely too stressful to get through.

Today i took a trip during my lunch to Walmart to grab a couple things. I know the stores are crazy during this season so I figured during the middle of the day may be the best chance for me. i was incorrect, it was crazy in Walmart. This holiday was based in togetherness but as soon as you turn into a Walmart any kind of humanity is lost.

I saw two close calls when drivers where cutting one another off for parking spaces, and like holiday bells honking was nonstop. Getting into the store people are pushing through to the aisles and all sorts of things where on the ground from people carelessly picking through them.

The lines went on forever and every time a new teller opened a rush of people fighting for a closer spot waived through. i was actually glad that they where sold out of what i was looking for so I can leave earlier and not have to deal with this mess.

More and more I know i am right about my religious views. If Jesus was born today i would totally get him a PSP, forget that frankincense and Murr crap.

Snowed in

Waiting at the bar

Snowday fun

Winter 2007

Winter always makes me think.

The cold dark night makes for a such a strange peaceful atmosphere. It feels like everything should be slower and quieter, at night everything is at rest. The cold makes going outside a burden, and i don't like burdens.

During the winter my ambition is gone, all i want to do is stay in my warm bed. It is hard to fight this feeling. The days it used to snow when i was a child and school was canceled where the greatest. It was cold outside but not inside, the days stress was all gone and now you had a day to completely waste, and extra day where if anything was planned you did not have to worry about it.

I like to remember the days when there was snow on the ground and i was the first person outside, I would take that first step and the crunch of the snow around my foot and it instant feeling of cold would make me happy. At least it would make me happy for a minute or so before my foot go too cold and i would run back inside.

We all learn about the seasons early on in life and I think we all take them for granted, what a strange cycle we live in. To imagine people before us who didn't have the things we have now for the winter weather, and how winter was not just a season but a fight against death, makes modern living look a lot better.

I will make a trip to the supermarket tonight after the gym to pick up some fresh fruits and vegetables. Then I will go back to my condo where I will turn the heat up to a nice temperature. After all that I will go to bed with a nice meal in me and warmth all around me.

Take that Colonial America.

Gloomy here

Vball sunday continues

drinks

beer

Snow!

YouTube Update

here are some vids from my YouTube account in case you missed them because you can't look at YouTube from work.

A little Thanksgiving day dance


Where the top video was based off of.


and for some laughs my buddy Ross's Dad's Job

95.1 Christmas Music

Listening to the radio during December makes me mad. I don't like Christmas music, I think it is terrible and if someone brings up a funny Christmas parody song I get the douche chills. Why and when did we decide that Christmas songs have to be terrible?

There are classic Christmas songs that are good, please don't mistake me, I am not tearing down all Christmas music. Classical, maybe some Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra, even the goofy 70's lounge Christmas is acceptable for a party atmosphere but the crap on the radio is awful. Any new artist putting out a Christmas CD is a no talent piece of garbage, they just take any old song add 2 hours in a studio and done another piece of garbage album that is released for no reason.

Even some of the old greats still only have one or two good Christmas tracks on them, the Beatles have a couple good jams, but to have an entire album dedicated to the holiday just because you want to release another album is obnoxious.

I think the British have more songs than us (and i am willing to say better) starting with the Beatles and every time I watch the UK Office I watch the Christmas party episode and the Christmas music is so much better, there is no I saw daddy kissing Santa junk, just a decent song that happens to be about Christmas.

I do like drinking some spiked eggnog though...

Painting Excitement

I started painting my new place yesterday. It is the initial coat of primer white before I move onto the true colors that the walls will be. I only got through 2 walls last night but they are the two big walls in my living room. Now instead of that terrible yellow they where they are white.

interesting how a change in color, even from yellow to white, changes the area that you live in and the feelings you have. I have been living in this place for over a month but have not settled in. My living room is empty, my spare bedroom is empty, and my cabinets are empty. It is like living in a cave, you walk in for a while until you get to my bedroom where there is a bed and computer but not much else.

I woke up this morning and as I was on my way out I saw the new walls in the sun and I felt like I had a blank slate. A beginning for myself, to do as i want with, to make my own. No longer do I have to see the older owner's walls, I get to have my own. As I smiled this morning I also thought about the possibilities and what I want to live in.

A freedom, a freedom that is going to cost a lot of time and money but a freedom none the less. Once the primer is done then it is time for the actual paint, i am still picking the colors, then flooring has to be changed, the gross carpet has to be removed and replaced, then furnishings. It is the start of a long journey and I plan on doing it all by hand but it will be a fun journey.

It is going to be a long day

Explaining it all Away

The course life takes is interesting. I have heard that people live and learn, to make mistakes so they will never have to make the same mistakes again. Learning has always been a little difficult for me.

The moment has always out weighed the past for me. At any point any lesson that I could have learned in the past is gone and I spring for the moment. This doesn't make me outgoing or exciting but most of the time embarrassing. Doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past over and over, looking for the one time that it works out. Although, the one time that it worked out has already past.

Think of the last great day you had in your life. The day that you can remember clearer than the rest of your life. Now imagine waking up on that day again, knowing what you know happened that day, but never getting to recreate it exactly. Something very little would go different creating a different day that was not the one you can remember so well. Making that day so much worse. I guess like the reverse of the movie Groundhog Day, that seems to be how my experiences have been working out.

After most weekends I get such a feeling of regret. Like everything i had said or done could have been better, like I just embarrassed myself. Unfortunately, sometimes this is not just a feeling. I do embarrass myself and at this point my friends already know, and so don't I.

I know it is going to happen, but I still let myself do it. It is a circle that I am stuck in, but even now I want to justify it. To have great stories means you have to be willing to do great things. I am not involved in world travel or extreme sports so I get a little crazy when I let loose. Sometimes too crazy but finding the line at that moment is almost impossible for me.

maybe i will be able to explain it better another day...

Sleepy train

First snow

On the way

no fun

maryas drink

Delis dot com

Fun mannhatin list

Ftptn

Marya is fun

Packing for the city

Ponderings Before NYC

Every time I go into NYC I always get rushed with different feelings.

I am from a small town in Eastern Ct. Most of the people living there are Boston fans (like myself). My house was set back in the wood where you could only see the neighbor's house during the winter and all the leaves are gone, even then it was difficult to see.

I have not traveled all that far (see A Friend's Travels). Basically there is no reason for me to like New York City, but I do. I love the city, I love the city because when you say "the city" people know where you are talking about.

After high school all my friends split into different areas, and my good buddy Dave moved to the city for school also at the time I was dating a girl who moved to the city for school. The girl and I decided we should end our relationship before college, about a month after the start of school I started my trips to the city.

I was at school at UConn, and there is only one way to get from UConn to NYC if you do not have a car on campus, the bus. The God forsaken bus. 6 hours to get into the city, if there isn't any problems with traffic (there is always problems with traffic). I used to plan a day around catching the bus and sitting with screaming children and stinking seats to get into the city. I got a lot of classwork done then and to remind you how long ago that was I had a CD player with me and a HUGE folder of CDs to keep me occupied. I could tell you every song that reminds me of that time, that trip, and that girl. (side note)

I did this for the rest of my freshman year and into the early part of my softmore year. Early into softmore year the girl and i broke up but i continued to go down because my buddy Dave was in Manhattan and I liked being there. I used to fill up a water bottle of mixed drink and ride the bus.

The summer of softmore year I moved into the city. This was one of the best summers of my life, working for a production company as a PA and just running around the city doing crazy junk for comercials and music videos, oh yeah and drinking forties from my friends from MT deli.

After that experience I knew that I would have to be in the city as much as i can. I learned quicker routes and trains and now i even based my decision on where i was living on how close to the train station I would be (very close).

I know every trip to NYC is a fun one, and sometimes I go down and hang out with dave without even trying to go out. The trip down starts with some drinks on the train and then we start it off.

I am on my way down right now...

Pics to come