Buddy's Myth

I live in Atlanta with my pal Tony Aguirre. We've been friends since first grade (that's thirty-four years to you and me, 238 to your dog). I stay at his house in East Atlanta in an area called Ormewood Park. It's a great neighborhood with easy access to everything in the world. The house is a veritable museum of forty years of collecting crap that has no value outside of sentiment. It's fun to stroll through, however. We frustrate children by having a million toys that they are not allowed to play with. I believe that toys should be played with, but I'm not going to let an eighteen month old break my Speed Racer Mach Five model. They can play with the stuffed dinosaur.
Tony is a Delta flight attendant so he is gone for three days per week (four if he's going international) and I have the place to myself to walk around in my underwear and rearrange things (read as "clean up") so he can't find them. This way, he can't kick me out because he won't know where any of his stuff is.
We have a cat named Johnny Cat. It's a girl. Don't ask. She's the single coolest cat in the world. I love Johnny Cat, but I probably wouldn't like your cat. Nothing personal.
The house is decorated with lots of Tony's paintings (to be posted later) and some of mine. Tony's a great painter when he does it, and I'm slowly improving (when I do it).
I moved in here in September of 2003, when his old roommate Pavel ( a silent Czech who stayed in his room all the time) moved out. I was living with Tony's step-sister (about a mile away) from May of 2002 until I moved in here. It's a good roomie situation, as he and I like most of the same stuff and can communicate mostly through movie and tv lines. It annoys some people to no end, but we know what we're talking about.
Oh, and we're not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But really we're not.