Suddenly feeling McCoot is not so bad. As part-time employers go. Can be a nice guy. Surge of odd pity at paper-covered giant desk the size of my bedroom and its piles of books and math mags (unread, probably) and the retirement tax papers, fragments of his Mary Sue science fiction novel, lesbian pornography. Old back issues of Hustler, scribbled notes on Being and Consciousness mingled with cryptic equations on tiny scraps of paper. Ugly neo-con-hood can be perhaps slightly overlooked... I mean, he doesn't care how many hours I work or when I show up or even really what I'm doing as long as a little order is imparted to the chaos. Not so bad.
He's not here bugging me yet, which undoubtedly helps.
**
oh, even funnier, a huge sheaf of paper that turns out to be his daughter the sci-writer's incrediblydetailed, loving yet sarcastic comments on his marysue.
hahahah.
Pooh Hefalump movie! 1:50 baby! Let's go! Or just send Moomin with us!
Posted by: Jo | February 18, 2005 at 12:13 PM
o god! how can i send him off with you and then dump him on you to spend the nite!? I can't. I must sacrifice my brain to the heflump movie. Oh the anguish. Maybe the ipod will drown it out? Can I read with a flashlight? Or must I follow the plot, crucial bonding experience with son?
Posted by: badgerbag | February 18, 2005 at 01:28 PM