Mon Pere

I got a lovely email from me daddy asking all sorts of questions. I suppose it is all good stuff for people to know, so I’ll just post it here since I’ve got lots of workin’ to do:


I certainly appreciate the interest, but have little to report as of yet. I’ll fill in the blanks I can…

Have you found housing accommodations?

I have a roof and a bed. I’m staying with a guy named Thomas for $300 a week. A little pricey, but he’s got a nice place and I felt like I was imposing on Cindy who has a beautiful, but cozy apartment. Thomas got the place with his partner, but they had a falling out apparently, leaving him with extra space.

Is your place of employment meeting your expectations?

The marijuana people work really hard. Honestly they work harder than the missile people. I’ve been going pretty much full speed both days I’ve been here. I want nothing more right now then to head home and curl up for a nap.

Do you have access to a means of verbal communication?

No, because until my credit card comes in from BB&T I have no way to buy a phone. It is $250 with a $150 rebate and I don’t want to put that on mom’s card. Hopefully that card will be in within a couple days.

Is the automobile proving to be satisfactory transportation?

Ninja Grandma is running fine. I’ve not been taking her out much since this city’s road system was designed by a deranged hamster on smack, but she’s running well.

Are you enjoying good health?

Still can’t walk, but that’s normal. I’m gonna go to the doctor about the tuberculosis thing relatively soon. Other than that and the eight pounds I’ve put on in the last week and a half, my pudgy widdwle cheeks are rosy and bright.

Are you eating properly?

I work above a subway. I’ve eaten five subs in six days. To the extent that is healthy, yes.

Are you still availing yourself upon the good will of your cousin from Louisville?

As I mentioned, no. She did take me out this Friday though and introduce me to some of her National Geographic friends and the DC nightlife. We went to a place called Wonderland which offered two specialty drinks: “the blue pill” promising to ease your cares and leave you waking up remembering nothing, and “the red pill” promising truth and the likely wish that you’d taken the blue pill. I myself had a red pill and either a cat took a poop in my mouth during the night or the drink delivered as promised.

It was a lot of fun though. I was seriously impressed at the abandon and vigor with which Cindy attacked the evening. We ended up back at her place with me passing out to the smell of frying bacon. Bacon that I found incinerated on the stove the next morning. Drunken bacon
cooking not working out so well apparently.

and finally, did Little Bo Peep ever find those sheep?

She did not though I hear tales that she has started a chinchilla ranch and is making more off of their highly valued little hides than
those irritating sheep ever provided.


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