fort daniel

Previous to his evening on the counter top in the kitchen, Tweeter slept a whole night in a fort he built using our kitchen table. He had his lantern and his Farside cartoons, and he said he was very happy.

Tweeter turns twelve

Tweeter no longer sleeps in his bed. The other night he built a fort under the dining room table, complete with a lantern and a book of The Far Side comics. Last night he chose a corner of the kitchen counter, and Saratoga and myself helped him clean it off. Where will he sleep next?

The above photo was not staged.

curry on a hot roof

Lately, the Shrimpers have been busy, but not so busy that we can't combine learning with relaxation.

This past weekend, Curry and Tweeter went to the roof. Curry read to Tweeter, who looked out to the trees and sometimes at his hands.

Soon, we hope to go places higher than even this.

regular ole inferno

On Saturday we craved burgers. Our friend Dr. Harry Weston (no relation to the Dr. Harry Weston of "Empty Nest" fame) came over to help us fire up the grill. That's him in the glasses. He added a hair too much lighter fluid and then set the grill on fire. Curry, pictured on the right, was too engrossed reading transcripts of JFK's speeches on the internet to notice the dangerous orange glow that had threatened the porch.

"Oh it'll burn out," Dr. Weston said in his fluid Georgia-Michigan accent.
"Do you really think so?" I said, taking full advantage of my new knowledge of Socratic irony.

Minutes later the wooden porch appeared to be afire. In fact it was only the dripping lighter fluid which was aflame. We were all a-twitter. Tweeter hit the flames with a wiffle bat, which kept them under control for a while. Before we knew it the flames kept dripping from the grill, spreading more and more, until they grew too numerous to control with a child's toy. Saratoga rushed inside to get the fire extinguisher. I stood around and prioritized my possessions so I could, if needed, quickly retrieve the most important ones.

(1. Laptop 2. Picture albums 3. Diary 4. Collection of tiny plastic pigs 5. Unsavory gifts from birthdays past, so as to avoid embarrassment when the firemen and insurance agents climb through the charred Shrimpfest rubble and say, "ma'am, is this thing yours?")

Before Saratoga could operate the extinguisher, Tweeter turned on a hose which I forgot we owned and washed away the flames. Then Dr. Weston closed the grill cover and smothered the flames.

A collective sigh of relief came, followed by several collective aggravated coughs brought on by smoke inhalation.

The Elder Ms. emerged from the kitchen with a bowl of potato chips, having missed the whole thing. She did not seem too upset, as her sweet potato plant was still in good health.

All was good after. The food was tasty. These photos are courtesy of our friend Fenley Notch who avoided the near-apocalypse but still managed to capture its breathtaking beauty.

Dante's Inferno

Our friend Dante Dibulgio headlined in a recent, local fashion show. He walked down the aisle to Love is a Battlefield, by Pat Benetar. His designer, Bobby K, chose two outfits for Dante, and each of them accentuated his handsome looks in different ways. The first ensemble accentuated Dante's kind face. The second outfit, as pictured above, accentuated Dante's dick, though we do not think it needs any help in its accentuation.

Tweeter's heart is bigger than this one. We love you, Tweeter.

true stories

Tweeter and I considered stealing this three-foot model from the museum.


Saratoga and Tweeter carry The Elder Ms. to a family outing (minus Curry) to eat crappy Mexican food on Archer road. Who wouldn't want to go.

blazers

I've been meaning to post this for some time. Here is a photo I took of the brothers grooming themselves before they go out on the town. From left to right, Curry, Tweeter, Saratoga.

They used to wear matching white blazers. But once during a game of horseshoes, the brothers, wearing their white blazers, began arguing over the location of Cindy Crawford's mole (Curry: her left side, Tweeter: her right side, Saratoga: dead center). Curry threw a dirt clod at Tweeter. They were inspired at the chocolate skidmark left on Tweeter's blazer, and they dyed their blazers brown the next day. Their interactions with women are 4% more successful as a result.

lady bum

Last night we had a party, and many people showed, even people that we did not know. After everything was said and done, there was a lady bum asleep on the sofa. We're part-time philanthropists here at Shrimp Fest, so we allowed her to doze the evening through.

hello!

Greetings, welcome, and good day to you sir. I thought I might do the introduction.

This is our family. I am Annunziata Shrimpstein, second-youngest member of the Shrimpstein family. Here are the other members, in order of age, from oldest to youngest:

The Elder Ms. Shrimpstein.
Saratoga Shrimpstein III.
Tweeter Shrimpstein.
Annunziata Shrimpstein.
Curry Shrimpstein.

We are siblings. Our median age is 24. Our mean age is 26. Our parents, like all good things-- this includes Gregory Peck, passenger pigeons, and rock n' roll-- are dead. They died in a very awkward accident involving, of all things, passenger pigeons. It's painful.

Here again are the siblings, but in order of height, from tallest to shortest:

Curry
Tweeter
Saratoga III
Annunziata
The Elder Ms.

And so we see that again I am the second-lowest. This is a recurring trend. Watch. Here are the siblings, listed in order of best sense of direction, from best to worst:

Tweeter
The Elder Ms.
Curry
Annunziata
Saratoga III

This is our house.

Located in Gainesville. We moved in August 2007. Curry is a big fan of an annual music extravaganza called either "The Fest" or "Fest" or "A Fest" or "My Favorite Fest." I can't remember the name. We all traveled here last year to see the "Fun Fest" and were quite taken with the town. We made plans to come here and live in the house you see above.

Coincidentally, the house was already named Shrimp Fest when we moved in. There is a long history to this, but fuck if I know it. The house has four upstairs bedrooms and one downstairs bedroom (Saratoga III's room). We all get along fairly well, though I have been known to snarl, grumble, and make other dog-type noises concerning the piss-poor interior decorating notions of my brothers. They also have a band, which I am not part of, because I lose my musical abilities after 2 am, and the band only "practices" in the dark quiet of the early morning.

But enough bitchery. I love my family with all my heart. They are kind and generous. Why, earlier this evening, Tweeter gave me 37 cents which he owed me after I spotted him 36 cents to buy a tiny plastic pig from a museum gift shop (the last cent we found on the ground). Can you believe that? What kind of gentleman pays you back so quickly for such a small amount of money? I believe now it is time to list the positive attributes of the family. I will list them in order of berry-picking speed, from fastest to slowest:

Saratoga III. -- Wonderful voice. Energetic and fun. Lovely legs (see photo below)
Curry -- Powerful leadership skills. Shares pizza. Looks good in a newsboy cap.
The Elder Ms. -- Excellent cook. Fast at furniture assembly. Cartwheels like a mofo.
Annunziata -- Proficient in applying eyeliner. Good visual aesthetic. Easily persuaded.
Tweeter. -- Poor, but generous. Enviable eyelashes. Very well-endowed.

This is our blog. After living here two months, we thought we should begin documenting our experience at Shrimp Fest. Fun is often had. Guests drop by frequently. Pizza is made on a twice-daily basis. Passive voice is used only on rare occasions. Drinks and merriment, cigarettes on the porch, dancing singing love sex bj etc. Hope you enjoy it.

limbs

hydroponics