Midwest Mothers Keepin it Real

Howdy fellow travelers of the great winding road,
I am now in O' town, population: others. Its great being back in the town of my youth. I spent the last week in Missouri, living in my sisters basement. Because of my pride I did not work as a bag boy. No, my friends, I did not work at all. During my stay in St. Louis I was able to visit Grant's farm, a park owned by Budweiser. This free park featured a harmonica playing elephant, FREE BEER, camels, and goats. I suggest everyone plan their next vacation around this place. The elephant also blows up balloons.

I saw my old friend Sea Bass while in St. Louis, and threw down some science and math talk. I found out in a Nat. Geographic that men (it only works with men) that have a much shorter index finger when compared to their fourth finger (the one next to the pinky) are statistically more aggressive than men whose fingers do not display this trait. I can't say I understand the methodology that produced such a conclusion, but I like the results. Now I can easily prove to all the doubters that my calm passive demeanor belies a great wolf within. Don't jerk my chain all you sasquatches of the world, for I may wolf out, and woe unto thee who faces this awesome wrath.

Last night I slept in matching Spiderman bed sheets and blankets. Spiderman is really cool. So thinks my four year old nephew, (who lent me use of his bed) and so thinks the Professor of Passion. I have experienced much on this wild journey, and I cant wait to experience more of my wonderful adventures as the displaced Hurricane Jew. For now though, I rest, comforted in the arms of the Spiderman.

Hurricanes are fake. Flooding is real.

A new posting:
Howdy trusted allies. Much is topsy turvey in the world of Professor Passion. As many of you know my home and my city is now underwater. My current life consists of relaxing in a pool while offers of free admission (given out of pity) from Yale and Princeton come in over my cell. Such is the tragic life of a refugee. I can say this: The most stressful part of losing my home, my possessions, my university, my funding, and having to formulate from scratch a plan for life is my once again, at twenty eight, having to live with my parents.

I love my parents dearly and their help is the reason I can spend my time maxin in a pool instead of being a bloated corspe rotting in the superdome, but damn it my mom can’t leave me alone about goddamn toothpaste! I am busy scheming up plans for rebuilding my life and she asks me whether I will have enough toothpaste in Israel. I don’t know when I will be going, or how I will aquire funding for my studies over there, or whether my military commitments will be activated. I am busy finding all of this out, dealing with two American federal beurocracies, the Israeli government and its military, two universities and finace departments, as well as the Jewish Agency for potential academic aid. All this, a pressing time constraint, and numerous lost records. My mom wants to know if I need toothpaste.

My eldest sister suggested to me that I can live in her basement and be a bag boy at the supermarket near her house.Man, that sounds like a great option. I can use my philosophy degree and spread wisdom to the other 16 year old bag boys. Bread on top! Cans on the bottom! Man, nothing like supermarket work to bring in the ladies! Maybe I could save up my money and get a sweet mustang to pick up my prom date in. Christ! I am working on my PhD! IFOUGHT IN COMBAT! Perhaps this is merely pride talking but fuck! Why the hell does she think I would find living in her basement and bag boy work satisfying? Is it because my incompetence caused the hurricane? Is grown up work like construction or checkout clerk beyond my abilities? Maybe when I am thirty and completely bald I can move up to working at Barnes Nobles. The sky is the limit!

Anyway, despite my whining my family has been great. My mom and dad bought me this great computing machine, and some pants. I am alive and well, and with the kind prodding of my parents, regaining the rage that makes me great. Once back in the homeland I believe I will shuck off my apathy and burst forth as the intense warrior scholar I am destined to be. Soon this butterfly will open his wings. Oh, the beauty that awaits!