365 # 48: Mike N.

I remember this one time that you and I signed up to write some songs for a play that we were in together. Our creative process consisted of you coming over to my apartment with your guitar, the two of us getting good and fucked up, and then writing a series of unbelievably brilliant songs about a girl and her shitty pets. What a great way to spend an evening.

It surprised me the other day when I realized that I've known you for over a decade. That seems like an impossibly long time since we first met, but there it is, the undeniable fact. In that time, we've been in no less than five plays together, put a hell of a lot of shit in our bodies, and quoted Bill Hicks with such fervency that one would think he was our messiah...which perhaps he was. Oh, and then there was that brief period where I was your boss when we were working in the same cubicle farm. That could've been awkward if you and I weren't both cool as shit. It was during that same time that we were both cast in "Romulus." Both of our characters were supposed to look pretty grimy, so we both let our hair and our beards go to hell. It was fun seeing each other at work like that. Your character was supposed to have been a P.O.W. for the last few years. To achieve the right look, you went so far as to let every member of the cast cut a chunk of your hair off with a pair of scissors. You looked like fantastic shit.

These days, you're a dad and a firefighter, both of which trip me out. The dad part because it's always a trip when any of your friends reproduce, and the firefighter part because, well, I mean, come on man, you're kind of scrawny. How do you carry all that heavy shit? I guess you manage somehow. Truth is man, of all the friends I've made over the years, there's probably none that makes me laugh as much as you do. I'm glad you're still around. Or that I'm still around. Whatever. Shit, I know as soon as I hit publish on this post, I'm going to remember something else I should've included. Fuck it, here's a video for you.