Pain

I keep my old VHS tapes in an old Mayfield's milk crate (with the date 9/79 stamped on it). Normally, I keep it in the hall closet. But I took it out a week ago to look for something. In doing so, I found a copy of American Movie, which I'd apparently dubbed off HBO back before the cable company realized they'd given HBO to us by mistake. I'd forgotten altogether about having a copy.

Check it out if you haven't. Mike is asked to do some audio looping. When he's asked to scream into the microphone, you witness probably the greatest catharsis ever captured on film.

But anyway, I've kept the crate out, just because of all the neat stuff I'm finding in there. My tape of Clash of Champions VI, in which Ricky Steamboat wrestles Ric Flair two out of three falls. My tape of a couple of movies off Joe Bob Briggs' old Monstervision show on TNT.

My favorite, though is the tape of baseball's 1971 All Star game, which I bought off Ebay, before Major League Baseball went apeshit over that little violation of their copyright. Can I just say that if MLB is so up in arms over someobdy buying an old All Star Game, and they're able to stop people from selling it, couldn't they try to make these things readily available? Copying technology is so cheap you could almost take orders and copy something to a DVD just as quickly as the order comes in.

But I digress.

The crate is still out because I'm finding stuff, and also because I'm too lazy to pick it up and put it back in the closet. So it's there, next to the couch, wedged up againt the end table. It juts out about three or four inches from the couch.

Just enough to catch your little toe on it when you walk by it.

I've done it a couple of times, and my roommate did it just a few minutes ago.

Why does that frigging hurt so much?

It's one of the kinds of pain that they'll give you in Hell, I'm fairly sure.

I'm going to put it back in the hall closet, now.