Boxes of Sweeties.
Jun. 23rd, 2009 | 05:02 pm
I like packing my stuff away. Each box is one box closer to getting the fuck out of this house.
Jessi and I have decided to write Maxwell one letter a week. We are collaborating. Jessi draws him a comic about something funny that has happened while he has been away, while I draft a story web for The Misadventures of People Living Without Max. It's a dramatic saga depicting, well, life without Max.
With Max's departure, Tobin is the reigning king of Poon de Starbucks;
Melissa finds a drawer devoted to pictures of Max in her married cousin's house, with "Mrs. Law," and "I love Judd" written in lipstick;
Jessi is knocked up;
All the ladies generally spend their time sitting in the back room and talking about how big Max's muscles must be getting.
Basically, it's a pick-me-up sort of thing, because being in the Army fucking sucks. If I was in the army, I would enjoy the idea of two close friends spending a couple hours a week trying to brighten my day with cartoons and made-up stories.
Yep. The end.