Do we look fat in this logo?





April 30, 2003       |       Today's Terrorist Threat Level: YELLOW.       |       Happy Birthday, Kirsten Dunst!

[ * Urgent, Late-Breaking News: Y.P.R.'s very own Geoff Wolinetz will be tending bar at Tin Lizzy, {1647 Second Avenue, between 85th and 86th Streets} on Thursday, May 1st, 2003, beginning at 8 P.M. and continuing until he is forcibly removed from the premises by Greasy Lou, Tin Lizzy's big, surly bouncer. If you are in the New York City area, it is greatly recommended that you come and drink alcohol, served fresh by Geoff. To whet your appetite, go read Geoff's newest Fruit Salad. * ]

[ * Also, if so inclined, one can visit the swell folks over at Haypenny and, while there, check out a piece written by Y.P.R.'s very own Josh Abraham. * ]

[ * And furthermore: there is new Nick's Guff, namely the poem "Springtime in the Ghetto". * ]

{ * Whew. * ]

This is a crude drawing of a crockpot, decorated in red and white stripes and white stars on blue, similar to an Uncle Sam-style hat.

L I F E   A S   A   H O U S E B O A T


Do you see what I'm talking about? Our life together. That's what I'm talking about. Look at it. Marinate on it. Fantasize about who we are and what we do together. Look at how deeply our love burns for each other. Do you see? This is our life together, as a houseboat.

The boat only floats if things cone together just right. My dear, it is only with proper density of matter and a protective water-resistant layer that our love for each other can manifest itself. If we construct our love out of corrugated fiberglass, all of the water in the world could not damage what we have. Much like my houseboat, it would float lazily in the docks, waiting to make sweet, passionate love.

The motor of the boat churns beneath the deck of the boat. It churns nonstop, much like the deep passion in my loins flames for you. It burns with such a raging fire that men must shovel coal into it nonstop to feed the flames of my love for you. And when my cup runneth over, I simply excuse myself from my important business meeting and off to the bathroom, where I release the byproduct of my passion for you. Does the motor in your heart run nonstop as mine does for you? This, too, is like my houseboat. It is a motor running constantly to maintain the houseboat's movement when we sail out into the harbor. This also represents the way that we sometimes get into a series of ugly, confrontational shouting matches and then make up with animal-like sex.

Atop the churning motor, there is a sturdy wood that forms the deck, the top layer of the houseboat. Much like my love for you, a deep varnish that allows for no scuffing and no weather damage protects this wood. The fierce winds of hurricanes, the torrential downpours of monsoon season, the swallows of Capistrano doing their business above the houseboat, nothing can damage the robust wood that forms the outer layer of my love for you. Also, my houseboat. This is the outer layer that we put on for our friends and family. The wood covers the motor. Our happy faces and polite smiles do not show my hand beneath the table, which is up your skirt.

The bedroom on the houseboat makes for a lovely allusion to our life together. The deep shag carpeting represents the comfort that I feel with you. Much like the deep softness of the shag carpeting, I feel as though I can tell you anything and you will react with nothing but kindness. The waterbed is representative of our tumultuous, tempestuous lovemaking. The water in the mattress moves and jiggles like that bowl of Jell-O that I had with dinner last night, as does your body when you make sweet love to me.

You see, my love, our life is much like my houseboat. Will you share this houseboat with me for the rest of our lives?


Perhaps you should stop clicking things.

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© 2003, Yankee Pot Roast