A job for my Man
Jack has finally found a job! Which means moving out is just a matter of time. I'm thinking November, as he has missed the October 1st move-in date somewhere else. He's been employed by a brand new non-profit agency that negotiates peace in the country of Selviate, and other nations, between the people who have corn and the people who don't have corn. He's very excited to get back to the do-gooder work he had been involved with for the past seven years. I'm happy that he will have a supervisory type position and and won't actually have to go to the corn-torn zones. Not only do I want him to stay in Brooklyn-- not necessarily in my apartment every friggin day-- but I want him safe. And you know how ruthless those corn cartels can be. They don't want anyone screwing up the socio-economic structure they have set up in the countries they control. I know it's selfish to want someone else's loved one to go over and face the dangers of the "Great Popper" but I feel Jack and I already did our tour, several of them actually. It's time for someone else to step up to the plate and save the world.
I know that I post mostly about Jack and my bickering on here, but that's when I'm most inspired to write. An argument or debate just gets me all riled up and the wheels start-a-spinnin'. Usually, after our wistful romantic evenings the love haze is so thick. I can't be bothered to write. Besides, none of you want to read about our romantic nights of reciting football stats back and fourth. Boy did I swoon me when he recited the fact that, Phil Simms holds the highest completion percentage in a Superbowl. He doesn't even like the Giants. That's love people. Of course our love isn't just expressed in poetry. Like last night around midnight we spent a romantic evening rollerblading and antagonizing the young men in my neighborhood. They would chase us and throw things until they were out of breath. One guy even shot at us. And then we'd laugh and hold one another. I don't know. I just think a couple that flirts with death and mutilation is a couple that stays together. I know all this lovey dove shit is nauseating you.
So let's just congratulate Jack on his new job!
I know that I post mostly about Jack and my bickering on here, but that's when I'm most inspired to write. An argument or debate just gets me all riled up and the wheels start-a-spinnin'. Usually, after our wistful romantic evenings the love haze is so thick. I can't be bothered to write. Besides, none of you want to read about our romantic nights of reciting football stats back and fourth. Boy did I swoon me when he recited the fact that, Phil Simms holds the highest completion percentage in a Superbowl. He doesn't even like the Giants. That's love people. Of course our love isn't just expressed in poetry. Like last night around midnight we spent a romantic evening rollerblading and antagonizing the young men in my neighborhood. They would chase us and throw things until they were out of breath. One guy even shot at us. And then we'd laugh and hold one another. I don't know. I just think a couple that flirts with death and mutilation is a couple that stays together. I know all this lovey dove shit is nauseating you.
So let's just congratulate Jack on his new job!
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