What about weevils, can weevils live on people?
So yeah, hey, what's happening? Things are great over here, Randy and I are great, marriage is great. Well, for
me, marriage is great for
me, I can't speak for Randy. I'm married to a handsome, responsible, functioning member of society-- Randy's married to a woman who didn't wash the up-do out of her hair until six days after the wedding, and only then on account of the fruit flies. Last week Randy's wife hurriedly bit a bunch of Dots in half and stuck them all over his windshield while he pumped gas. Yesterday Randy's wife called him at his office because she filed her taxes all by herself like a big girl (for the fifteenth year in a row) and thought it deserved some validation.
"I almost said fuck it," I told him over the phone, showboating, swatting at my head, "but then I figured I'd be in big trouble
next year, what with the 'filing jointly' and whatnot."
"Yeah, good job," Randy said, either distracted or horrified, they sound the same over the phone. They actually sound the same in
person, too, I think he must practice that. Either way, he managed to impart exactly the same amount of validation that he might convey had I called to announce I hadn't yet lit a match and held it to the living room drywall that morning. Which is to say, little.
So to sum up: I'm married to a smart, well-adjusted person who gets up every morning to go participate in society and who isn't perpetually herding a small farm of something around on his scalp, and Randy's married to... not that.
