Fitz, the Logger

Hi. They call me Rooster at work.

Today Fitz made a good joke. He called my first novel, The Big Mac Chronicles. This made us all laugh. Especially me. I know the truth. Fitz is in love with his brain. This is the truth.

I have nothing else. That's it. I could make another movie on my lunch break. I could do this pretty easily. I don't though.

"What are you blogging?" Fitz asks.

I don't say anything. He sits in the chair next to me. Now he is talking again.

"What's that? What are you doing?"

He is talking about my typing. I am typing with two fingers. This is the way I type.

"You don't know how to type."

Now Fitz sings a song about how I can't type.

I am still typing with two fingers.

Tonight is Fitz's going away party. He and the rest of the band have had enough of their 500 square foot studio and Los Angeles. They are going back to Philly.

I will miss his songs. His impersonations of me. I will miss him terribly.

"What are you doing?" he says again. "That is not the way to type. You're a writer. Look how much faster I can type than you."

The office watches him type. He sings another song about my typing. I don't say anything and he gets self-conscious.

"I'm being an asshole," he says. "I'll stop."

"That's okay," I say.

"Okay," he says and then sings, "I'm Pirooz. I write books. They are about value meals. I can't type. I have a family. They are nice. I am Pirooz. I am nice."

It is amazing how much more true this song is than any bio or description has ever come.

I hope Fitz survives me. He would be great at funerals. If I ever get married, I want him to do the toast. In fact, I need to record him making fun of me tonight at the party. I will post it at around 430 AM tonight. Have a good Friday, Bloggers.

3 comments:

the IMAGINATIVE ACTION REGIME said...

p man shikow is good. p man shikow is great. p man shikow is SHIKOWTASTIC!

Pirooz M. Kalayeh said...

i love that you are my sole cheerleader. it reminds me of playing shows with Cecil's Water. We used to play some nights to no audience at all.

Oh, that was the best one. North Philly.

Not a single person.

I forget what it was called.

Everyone's favorite place to play was this strip club. We played one show. They wanted us back. The boys were ecstatic. I had a girlfriend. I was worried.

The club called a week later. It burned down.

We thought the guy was kidding, but we found out he was legit. The place burned down. No more strip club.

After that place, my favorite was The East End Cafe's Sunday Night Jams.

Those were good times.

Let's see...

There was a tap dancer that went on before us, a flame thrower, all the great bands in Newark, DJ's, and then there was all the excitement. Shelby at the bar. Steve with his wavy, blonde hair giving me bottles of wine. Bails in the corner. Wayne shouting, "Bop! Bop!"

It was your classic family-biker-bar.

I am going to visit your blog now.

Tomorrow I am going to use Alan's song for another little movie.

We came up with a doozey.

That's right doozey.

I will call you tomorrow around 9pm. Tell me if that's too late in Bammer Land.

Anonymous said...

I am Fitz, I work with Pirooz. He enjoys my company. I enjoy his as well. If we had lots of money, we would help everyone that needed it. It would be fun and interesting. I don't read too much, but i read a book for Pirooz. It was good. I like Pirooz.

-Fitz (Larry Thomas Moore, Jr.)