Saturday, July 02, 2005

He may seem tough, but we know he's hurting inside.


I was at a meeting for disgraced ex-Republican hacks and flacks. A sad bunch. We all try to make good for our sins, thinking we might be able to get back into it like some of our alum. Charles Colson (We call him Chuck) is making hay over at Town Hall , G. Gordon Liddy (The G-man) has his radio gig, Ollie seems like he is selling a bunch of stuff on Teh internets. Ed Meese is playing it cool over at the Big Suck. That's what we call the Hoover Institute. These guys give us hope. Sometimes Cheney comes by and says we need think bigger. One guy, Jeff, or Jim, I get confused, I know he's the guy with the moderate sized dick though, or at least he talks about it a lot. Anyway, he hasn't been handling it that well. He has this web gig, but his heart doesn't seem to be in it. He recently read us this diary entry. It reminded me of this one song, but nobody else said anything, so I didn't call him on it. He left the name of the heartbreaker out. We can only guess. We could tell his was hurting.

Girls,
I, Jeff Gannon, know you will understand this
and feel the intrinsic incredible emotion
You have just pulled over your head the worn,
warm sweater, belonging to a boy
Now, you haven't had a passionate kissing session or anything,
but you got to go on a camping trip with him
and eight other people from school
And you practically slept together,
your sleeping bag right next to his
And you woke in the night to watch him as he slept
but you couldn't see anything 'cause it was dark
so you just laid there and listened to his breathing
and wondered if your heart might burst
The sweater has that faintly goat-like smell
which all teenage boys possess,
and that smell will lovingly transfer
to all your other clothes
If you get to keep it for a few days you can sleep with it
but don't let your mom see, 'cause she'll say,
"what is that filthy thing, and who does it belong to
besides the trash man?"
So you have to keep it under the covers with you
You can kind of lie it beside you,
or wrap it around your waist,
or touch it on your legs, or whatever
That's your business
Now if the sweater has, like, reindeer on it
or is a funny color like yellow... I'm sorry,
you can't get away with a sweater like that
Look for brown, or grey, or blue
Anything other than that, and you know you're dealing with
someone who's different
And different is NOT what you're looking for
You're looking for those Alpine ski-chiseled features
and that sort of blank look which passes for deep thought
or at least the notion that someone's home
You're looking for the boy of your dreams
who is the same boy in the dreams of all your friends
Monday, wear the sweater
to school
Be calm, look cute
Don't tell him about the dream you had
about the place the two of you would share
when you get older
Just be yourself
The best, cutest, quietest version of yourself
Definitely wear lip gloss
He looks at you, and then he looks away
And then he walks away
and the smell of the sweater hits you again suddenly
like ape-scent gloriola
and you get a note passed to you
by a girl in History that says
"He needs that sweater back.
He forgot you put it on in the tent on Saturday
and he's been looking for it."
And you don't have to die of humiliation (but you might), you know
You are a strong person
and this is a learning experience
You can still hold your head up high as you run from the classroom
tearing the stinking sweater from your body
You've got a secret now, honey,
and though you'd never sink as low as him,
you could blab it all over the school if you wanted
The label in that sweater
said "100% Acrylic"

We just want you to be happy, Jeff, or Jim. We're sorry we had to support you in this way, by getting your feelings into the open. And you, unknown heartbreaker, anyone that treats Jeff like that should be ashamed, I guess you probably have some skeletons in your closet, that is for sure.

Thank you Meryn Cadell, wherever you are.