Friends, Romans, Conquistadors,
Lend me your snowshoes. I come to bury everything, not to praise it. Bleaders, the snow is foxy in Brooklyn tonight.
As I said to a new friend recently, if you are going rowing with an urban poet, you’re going to end up urban-poet rowing. That’s the story of Mexico, Jennifer went kayaking. For team building. At the happiness meeting. Scouted some arms to do my paddling, because let’s face it, let’s all face it together, I’m not much of a means of locomotion. Chugga-chugga.
Did we discover anything? Yes! We’ve got it all worked out. Happiness. In the bag. I’ll sell it to you later.
It’s a little odd to be scratching Mexican mosquito bites while looking out at this blizzard fizzing.
I was here.
Now I’m here.
Would you like to know how the Yeshiva University Jewish Center Museum gig goed? It was good. Here is what it was like (yes I am saying "live long and prosper."
Perhaps I’ll post my piece here for youse bleaders. It’s long but entertaining I think, and what’s that word I keep using? Encouraging. Yes, I will post it, that's settled: "The Thesis Is That There Was A Beginning"
Also I’ll show you my adapted suicide post in the Boston Globe, which is quite a thing.
Click these lynx. Stay warm. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Married people, go have sex. Yes with each other. Your abstinence is a burden to me.
Everyone, stay alive until next week when I shall encourage you again.
Love,
Jennifer
ps You know what? I'm gunna go head and quote myself again an say "I have seen the future and it is Mitch Sisskinds' posters." Seacrest out.
