I have always been a bit reactionary. I have been in Mississippi now three months. Employed in Mississippi two weeks--anyway here's what keeps happening. I listen to Michael Feldman's "Whaddya Know" program and begin to fantasize about Milwaukee.
Oh, how I would love to go on the frozen lakeshore, drink Pabst, wear a big jacket and drink in hearty nasalized-vowels.
So very fucking Yank: a part of the nation which is not the strip-cleared swamp-forest yields convection oven hellhole.
My supervisor told me sweatpants or pajamas were acceptable work attire. She was wearing slippers. She slipped on the floor.
So yeah, Milwaukee. Who knows-- Walworth? Madison? Beautiful summers and long shut-the-fuck-up winters, not-Mississippians, and thug-life (but crucially) as irony.
Come home, to Wisconsin?
2 comments:
Someone should attempt to document the innerworkings of your mind...I feel like that could be a killer indy flick.
someone should make a COMIC STRIP of the innerworkings of chris's mind. dude, that would be sweet. i wish i could draw. and read chris's mind.
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