Back on the radar

END TRANSMISSION

I loved her
I lived her
But that’s all bled away
She never realized I only talked
When I had something to say

It’s not what you do
It’s who you want to be
Bad medicine goes down easy
When you take life less seriously

Have I gone bonkers?
Truly gone fishing?
Til the monkey with the checkbook
Says “End transmission.”

I wonder about the big things
And the shit that doesn’t matter
But I know that in April
Little feet will pitter-patter

But there’s no use in ruing
The things you can’t change
Life is beautiful, horrifying,
disjointed and strange

Are you living your dream?
Or will you just go on wishing?
Until the monkey election winner
Says “End transmission.”

I loved you
I knew you
But I guess not so well
I saw you in heaven
And I’ll see you in hell

The day and the night time
Bleed into each other
And I know in good time
I’ll find another

And maybe my life
Is one, big, botched subdivision
Til the monkey with the spork
Says “End transmission”

So I’ll just keep dancing
Til the world’s underwater
And give her a kiss
Cause you know that you oughta

And I’ll say “Would you mind
…If I spanked your ass?
After we we’ll walk in the park
And smoke a little grass”

Til the night and the daytime
Bleed into before
And the monkey in Armani
Doesn’t matter anymore
-Jay


It was about fucking time I had an original quote. I am writing again, which is always cause for celebration. I have also been crushed with interviews and moving onto the new place. The flat needs some work, but Kristen, Stuart and I love it. But it’s frustrating when you’re going commando because you have no clean boxers and you can’t work the washing machine (Stuart figured that out, finally, being a Euro).

Here’s reason number two why Spain hasn’t been a world power in 500 years – they get lost going around the block, let alone trying to invade some foreign land. They can’t give directions for shit. They don’t know the name of streets two blocks away – it’s brutal taking directions from them. More on that later or tomorrow. But here’s the news — I got a good job with a good company. I started yesterday. I will eventually be working with Banesto, the big Spanish bank, training their IT people to talk English with their mother company in London. Should be sweet.

My posts have been few and far between because we have no Internet at the flat yet ( will send this from work). We had no hot water or heat for a while, but that’s fixed. We celebrated our new crib on Sunday with me cooking: fried and breaded artichoke hearts ala Jaybo, followed by pasta with fresh sauce. Kristen and Stuart went crazy over it. Kids just have no idea how to cook. Thusly, I begin the transition between existence and living. I am happy. All is well. The shadow of the Empire cannot touch me here.

Some more insights on Spain:

- Hillary Swank is a sex symbol here. Did I just fucking write that?

- No one here says “excuse me.” They just push by you on the street or the Metro ( and then I swear at them in English, which they have no clue of).

- The climate of Madrid in the winter is almost exactly like that of DC

- I’ve met a lot of Spanish who are gross and wear the same clothes for days in a row. For instance, or landlord, Diego, always wears the same shit and smells like ham

- Why do we have to wear pants? What’s the fucking point? Pants piss me off.

Well, that’s all for now. Imagine, going to bed before 2 AM!!! I hope you all are well. Live long and prosper. END TRASMISSION.