Do you remember that Whitney Houston song where she sings about The Greatest Love Of All? Well I never thought I’d see a love so deep that it made me think about that song. But it happened. I witnessed a love like I’d never seen before.

Monday night, after a nice round of arguing between me and my wife, she went to her corner and I went to mine. I then went downstairs to change into some comfy clothing and heard a ruckus downstairs near the baby’s room. As I got closer and closer, I then heard some murmured curses. You know those curses where someone is pissed off and instead of being really vocal about it, they curse under their breath? That is what I heard. I didn’t want to sneak up on whomever was invading my house and cursing under their breath so I tip toed closer and closer until I noticed that it was my wife pulling clothes out of the dryer and then slamming them on the ground. I didn’t know if she was upset about our arguing so I just watched her. She was so animated in her grabbing a pair of pants, looking at them, and then slamming them down saying, “Gosh dammit,” underneath her breath while gritting her teeth. I then watched her pull out a blouse from the dryer and say, “Those mother effers are going to pay,” while grimacing and making evil faces. Stupidly, I decided to open my mouth and say something clever.

“Is there anything wrong babe?” I asked.

“Those stupid idiot house cleaners washed my dry clean only clothes,” she yelled at me. “Every piece of my clothing is ruined!”

I decided to say more witty things such as, “Are you sure they washed all of them?”

She came back quickly with, “Almost all of them.”

I could see that she was extremely upset and would’ve given her a hug if I didn’t think she was going to bite me and decided that maybe we should find out exactly what happened. But she beat me to it.

Her mother owns a cleaning business and every Monday, her cleaning crew comes over and cleans up the place. They clean the bathrooms, tidy up the garage, the front room, the kitchen, and things of that nature. But what they aren’t supposed to do is touch our laundry.

Carol placed a call to her mother that sounded much like fight. No, not the punches being thrown, but the insults being tossed around specific “bad” words that usually happens when someone grandstands. If this was on radio, it would have to have been bleeped every other second.

After the call, I decided to join my wife on the bed and talk about the incident. I wanted to ask her to wear a mouth piece, but knew I didn’t have one. So I decided to take the chance. She said that her dry clean clothing was stored in a garbage bag underneath a counter in our bedroom. Somone would’ve had to open the bag, take all the clothes out, and then throw them into the washer in order to perform what my wife thought was a criminal act. Thinking about that even pissed her off more and she made another obscenity laced call to her mother.

After I calmed her down with phrases like, “it will be ok,” and “you know they’re only clothes,” she decided to weep. Two-thousand dollars worth of clothing down the drain. I thought about that. I have about two-thousand dollars worth of Air Jordan’s and if someone spilled paint on them, or decided that they should go into the washer, I would be extremely pissed too. Actually, I would probably have cried sooner than she did. But in my life, I’ve never seen someone so fond of their clothing. She was reminiscing about them like they were her children. She loved this certain pair of pants so much, she’d do anything to have them back. Her favorite blouse was better to her than I was. A certain dress shirt needed caressing because it was shrunk to fit a 10-year old. And to her favorite now ruined “going out” blouse, she said, “You complete me.” Man, I hope she loves me like that someday.

I guess the moral of the story is that maybe we shouldn’t love our material items so much. And even though my wife is pretty much over it, and a little excited to go shopping now, the person who shrunk her clothing better not be seen on the street or she says will open up a can of whoop ass. I thought she was joking about that. But she’s not. She actually took a can of green beans, took off the surrounding paper, and wrote with a black marker “whoop ass” on it. She said she will use this can on that person. I pray for them.

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You wouldn’t imagine how many people asked me if the below story was true. I say with the exception of Brit picking me instead of Eddy, yes it’s true. Edson says he was the Hulkster that night.

My buddy Albert Mangay is a budding director and soon you’re going to see this man shaking up Hollywood. And if you want to see his works before he takes off, here’s his first, Illegal Toilet Paper.

His other comedy is called Spiced Ham.

Do yourself a favor and check those movies out. They are hilarious. Also, there’s a comment feature that you can use to comment on what you think.

Thanks.

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Yes, last night I did go to the Britney Spears concert. I went with my wife, my sister, my pal Eddy Zucko, my cousin Janene, her husband and my sister’s and wife’s best friends. It was just a fun way to get out of the house, and be away from the kids for a short time. What started as fun, turned into a story of epic proportions. I’ll start from the beginning.

Eddy kept calling his dad, Teodoro to get an update on the score of the Lakers vs. Kings game. We were walking on the sidewalk, getting ready to enter the stadium and all of a sudden, two women were suddenly interested in what Teodoro had to say. I looked at them and they were awaiting the word on who was winning. And then this lady says, “Yah, Bibby’s two free throws tied it up.” I looked at Eddy and wondered why we weren’t married to these two women who were actually interested in the score. But then, I figured they probably were just frontin’ and while may even like the game, weren’t dream girls.

We walked into the San Jose Arena (I guess it’s now called the HP Pavilion or something like that) and it was a sure fire sell out. We walked to our seats which were awesome and watched a girl group called Third Phase try their best at getting a crowd’s attention that was waiting on pins and needles for The Brit to make her appearance. I decided to go with Eddy back upstairs as he wanted to buy a shirt. And no, he’s not a homo either. At least that’s what he tells me. Actually, I’ve seen him make out with a girl before at a club in front of everyone so I don’t think he’s homo. Anyway, he went to buy a shirt but had to get passed the 100 screaming girls who were in line (or what seemed to be a line) before him. I went immediately to the customer service station and asked about the whereabouts of an ATM. I needed some cash so I could grab a soda and something to eat and also maybe pick up a Britney souveneir for my boys. No, they’re not homos either. I picked them up the manliest green glow lights you can buy. While at the ATM, I listened to another lady squeal overjoyed that “her” Lakers (as she was calling them) won. I wonder if Jerry Buss knows that they were “her” Lakers. And then I watched another two women run over to the TV sets in the luxury section of the arena and come back dejected as “their” Kings lost. I thought to myself, “Why are there no guys who give a crap about this game in this arena?” Then I remembered, Eddy, my cousin’s husband, and I were the only guys in the arena. I then sent a text message to Eddy that read, “Lakers win, but you’re still a homo.”

As I stood in line for what seemed like 45 minutes to buy my soda and nachos for my wife and I to share, I started to get some of the essence of Britney-mania. Now I’ve been through Hulkamania, but this was quite different. I remember as a boy loving the Hulkster, but I don’t remember anything about who he was married to, how many tattoos he had, or if he had breast implants. But these young girls were all over Britney. They knew everything. I was standing in line, with two girls that were probably 15, right behind me. I’m guessing 15, only because I couldn’t tell. The girls were dressed like women, and not working women either, if you catch my drift. Oh, R. Kelly would’ve been in heaven here. R. Kelly and Eddy Zucko that is. They were hating on other girls who were in line that didn’t have the total “Britney” look going on like they did. They hated on girls who didn’t dress like “Justin” liked. And they actually thought they knew about music. Eh, at 15, I didn’t know much about music either. Hell, I don’t know much now. I’m at a freaking Britney Spears concert.

As I got back to my seat (that bastard Eddy left me while he was looking to buy his shirt) I sat down and noticed Nikka Costa jammin’ on the stage. Carol said that she wasn’t into Nikka. Her friend Trisha said she should be opening for Lenny Kravitz and not Britney. I don’t think Lenny is doing much headlining these days. I enjoyed Nikka. She’s trying to expand pop music in a sense that she’s still trying to be pop, but she’s fusing her music. She had a nice band and they were jammin’ hardcore. Eddy thought we might get bombed out of the arena, because he thought Osama Bin Laden was on the drums. If it was him, he had mad skills. Eddy then decided to leave again because he didn’t have the patience to wait in the long shirt lines before and thought they may be shorter. He was right as only 15 minutes later, he was back with a shirt. However, being the cheap guy that he is, he bought one that said 2001 Tour instead of the new 2002 Tour shirts. He saved an entire 10 dollars to buy a shirt that was last year’s model and didn’t even say San Jose on the back. What a guy.

After Nikka was done, they started playing music videos on the three big screens that they had over the stage. They played NSYNC’s Pop and this little girl behind me got excited. She had a brother and I asked him if he as an NSYNC fan and he said yes. They were probably between the ages of 5 and 7. Then P. Diddy’s video for I Need A Girl came up on the screen and I asked the young boy who he thought was at fault, P. Diddy, or J-Lo. He didn’t understand the question so I posed it a different way. He didn’t have an opinion either way. There were a couple more videos and then we were ready to go.

The show started and the theme was about dreams. Throughout the show, there were references to dreams, and there were a couple sequences reminicent of Nightmare on Elm Street. A blonde haired girl came out in a nightgown, sleepwalking. People immediately screamed for Britney, but I screamed that it was an imposter and called her Cordet (in Star Wars, Padme has two girls who pose as her as to not throw her cover because she has assassins coming after her, and one is Cordet). I was right. Britney came from behind and started the concert with Oops, I Did It Again. My almost three year old son sings a similar song. Since he’s not all the way potty trained, he sings, Poops, I Did It Again. The concert had a circus like atmosphere. It reminded me of Cirque Du Soleil in a sense that everything Britney did was very over the top and spectacular, but there’s also a downside to that. Her music totally suffered. She lip synced every song but two or three. My favorite of her songs was Lucky just because of the set. Very slick. But after about a half an hour, I was bored. Most of her fast songs sounded very much like the songs preceding. The concert was loud and flashy, but I was looking in the crowd trying to see if I knew anyone. However, that quickly changed.

All concert long, I was telling everyone within shouting distance that Brit was going to grab me and take me on stage. Nobody believed me. I wasn’t able to shave before the concert so I said that she was going to be into the scruffy look, ala Charlie from Party of Five. For the entire concert, they laughed at me for my prediction. That is, until Brit’s last song.

Right before she went into Slave 4 U, she walked over to my section and winked. Eddy Zucko got so excited. She then motioned with her finger that she wanted someone to join her on stage. Eddy got so excited that he nearly wet his pants. I told you he’s not a homo. But as she got closer, her finger was pointing at my wife, whom I was sitting next to. Dejectedly, I figured Brit was going to do some lesbo scene or something. I was hoping she had one bad eye or something and was really looking at me. And she did. She walked over to me and grabbed me from my seat and walked me on stage. I looked over to Eddy Zucko and I saw the saddest man at the concert with wet pants. Brit sits me on a chair and goes into her number. I couldn’t believe that she was being a slave for me. After the song was over, she took me with her to a platform that rose from the stage. We jumped on, and it returned us beneath the stage. I figured I was going to get a hug and someone was going to return me to my seat. But it didn’t happen that way. Brit had this look in her eyes. It was a look that said, “I wanted you.”

I just saw Eddy yesterday and if you’ve seen Batman with Jack Nicholson playing The Joker, you know what Eddy looks like. He has a smile glued on his face. Damn.

I was always told that when people want to fabricate the truth, they write in italics, but I never believed that.