Barstool Sports

Friday, January 06, 2006

Shawshank sendoff

For Chowdahead readers who don't know your Uncle Buck has a very close group of friends. They are really UB's brothers. We would do anything for each other, but are also the first ones to point out how fat, bald and dumb each of us are (not always in that order). So it should come as no surprise when our brother Michael Gallicchio (above), aka Gaylicks, Licks, L-Dude, said he was moving to California we rallied and held a little get-together in his honor. Still after he has been gone for only a few days we find the best way to shed our tears is to mask them in memorable quotes from Shawshank Redemption. Here is a brief look at the series of emails that have been going around regarding L-Dude's departure.

Little Tick (LT) 1:29pm: I miss L-Dude.

Boner 1:59pm: I know, LT, I know. Boner does too. But I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. Still, the place you live in is much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess i just miss my friend, G-Licks.

L-Dude 2:12pm: Boner I forgot to tell you: Go to the Northwest corner of the Beer Garden. There you will find the hottest girl in Boston and maybe the world, and obviously she has no business in that bar, or that city for that matter. Perhaps once you find her you will be willing to go a bit further?? Ask her to go home with you (you remember how to do that right?). She will go......then take her to Muls in the morning. I pray for you Boner!!

UB 2:18pm: I wish I could tell you that L-Dude fought the good fight, and the LA Sisters let him be. I wish I could tell you that - but California is no fairy-tale world. He never said who did it, but we all knew. Things went onlike that for awhile - life in LA-LA Land consists of routine, and then more routine. Every so often, L-Dude would show up with fresh bruises. The Sisters kept at him - sometimes he was able to fight 'em off, sometimes not. And that's how it went for L-Dude - that was his routine. I do believe those first two years were the worst for him, and I also believe that if things had gone on that way, that place would have got the best of him.

Boner 2:18pm: Lord, its a miracle! G-Licks up and vanished like a fart in the wind.

UB 2:38pm: In 2006, Michael Gallicchio escaped from his 2.5 bedroom townhouse in Southie. All they found of him was a muddy set of Dryjoy golf shoes, a bar of soap, and an old 7-iron, damn near worn down to the nub. I used to think it would take six-hundred years to get out of a contractual agreement with Bone. Old L-Dude did it in less than two. Oh, L-Dude loved Golf, I guess it appealed to his meticulous nature. A fairway here, million yards of divot marks there. Golf is the study of pressure and time. That's all it takes really, pressure, and time. That, and a big god-damned driver. Like I said, in Soutie a man will do anything to keep his mind occupied. It turns out L-Dude's favorite hobby was throwing his money away in online gambling, a handful at a time. I guess after Panda's spirit was killed, he decided he had been here just about long enough. L-Dude did like he was told, buffed his head to a high mirror shine. Bone simply didn't notice, neither did I... I mean, seriously, how often do you really look at a man's hair? L-Dude crawled to freedom through 2985.62 miles of shit smelling foulness I can't even imagine, or maybe I just don't want too. 2985.62 Miles... that's the length of a lot of football fields, just shy of the distance from heaven to hell...

Reese the stripper: The future Mrs. Michael Gallicchio.

Panda 4:09pm: I have no idea to this day what Reese was dancing about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think that she was dancing about something so beautiful, it can't be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, Reese soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Southie felt free. And here's where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don't forget. Forget that there are places in the world that aren't made out of stone. That there's a - there's a - there's something inside that's yours, that they can't touch. That's the beauty of strippers. They can't get that from you... Haven't you ever felt that way about strippers?

LT 4:18pm: We watched Reese dance and drank beer with the sun on our shoulders and felt like free men. Hell, we could have been tarring the roof of one of our own houses. We were the lords of all creation. As for Gay Licks, well, he spent that night hunkered in the corner, a strange little smile on his face, watching us drink his beer.You could argue he'd done it to curry favor with Reese. Or, maybe make a few friends among us low-life's. Me, I think he did it just to feel normal again, if only for a short while.

When Boner tried to follow L-Dude out to California...

L-Dude 4:49 pm: I don't think I can make it out here on the West Coast. Everyday I think of a reason to get fired from my job so they can throw back into Southie with Boner. Ten years I've been asking Boner permission to go to the bathroom....and without it I don't think I can squeeze out even a drop.

We're all college educated men in here. Didn't you know that?

Meusy (Sat) 4:29pm: Dear fellas, I can't believe how fast things move on the left coast. I saw this girl named Reese when I was in Southie but now they're everywhere. The world went and got itself a lot of plastic surgery in a big damn hurry. My Aunt got me into this halfway house called "The Brewer" and a job bagging groceries at the Foodway. It's hard work and I try to keep up but my tiny head hurts most of the time because I'm so stupid. I don't think the store manager likes me very much. Sometimes after work I go to the park and feed the birds. I keep thinking Boner might just show up and say hello...but he never does. I hope wherever he is he's ok and makin' new friends, shouldn't be a problem now that Gaylicks is gone. I have trouble sleepin' at night. I have bad dreams about eating Chinese food. I wake up scared. Sometimes it takes me a while to remember where I am, again because of my tiny, stupid head. Maybe I should get me a gun, and rob the Foodway so they'd send me home to Boner. I could shoot the manager while I was at it, sort of like a bonus. I guess I'm too stupid for that sort of nonsense, I'd probably screw it up. I don't like it here. I'm tired of being afraid all the time. I've decided not to stay. I doubt they'll kick up any fuss. Not for a stupid Gaylicks. [carves "Gaylicks was here" into wood. Admires his work for a moment. Then kicks out the table beneath him and hangs himself]

UB 5pm: I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain...

...I hope I can get on that plane. I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand. I hope his head is as bald as it has been in my dreams. I hope.


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