Trying to make a decent living during the recession proved to be too much for your favorite Romance Couple, J-Baby and J-Bird. We've left all of our worldly possessions (mostly tweed blazers and extension cords) behind and moved into this cave. It's only a little bit constantly moist. If you think about it, this really isn't any weirder than when friends you know from college start hopping box cars and living in filthy condemned buildings. We're just taking it a step further by eliminating all traces of humanity-- cutting out the middle man, as it were-- to live like either 1. Bears or 2. ascetic saints.
Follow our cave experience in a series of upcoming blog posts: 1. J-Baby and J-Bird Are Roughing It 2. J-Baby and J-Bird Don't Know What To Do About Food 4. We Miss Our Apartment 5. The Tension of Cave Life/Starvation Puts Strain on Our Relationship 6. Hello, Mom? I Thought Maybe I Could Move In For A Little Bit
Having consulted our noted weather gods, the groundhogs, we Fredenburgs maintain that winter will continue much as it was. While some families might find the soggy, cold conditions to be ceaselessly dreary, we find it is an excellent time to show off our "fashion" sense. We actually killed the groundhogs used to make our winter predictions and made these hats out of them. We're protected against the elements, and as an added bonus, we're protected against bad winter juju.
Rachel recently called me (with barely concealed glee in her voice) to bring to my attention Kansas City's most recent mention in the "news." Evidently, Kansas City topped the list of Worst Cities for Dating compiled by the crack team of sociology grad students and other human behavior/survey taking experts over at the Axe Body Spray Department at Cornell University. From the article: AXE, known coast-to-coast for their dating game expertise, came up with the idea of finding "America's Best and Worst Cities for Dating," using 24 distinct criteria including, among others: population density, percentage of singles, frequency of hooking up, dating venues such as coffee shops, bars, and intimate apparel stores and flowers and jewelry bought as gifts. I also suspect that Axe Body Spray sales in the highest ranking towns were through the roof.
Having in my possession an entrepreneurial spirit, I have come up with the perfect solution to Kansas City's woeful lack of dating and it will make me rich. Firstly, I will ad some new, even sexier Axe Body Spray scents to their arsenal (which currently includes such scentsations as Phoenix, Tsunami, Kilo, and Orion): Banana Ala Flambe, Sagittarius Rising, Blurt, and Sour Cream n Onion. I propose to set up a sort of couple factory, probably near the entrance or in the parking lot of a community college. It will be called Romance Alley or Fredenburgtown, whichever sounds more conducive to hot hook ups (so Fredenburgtown). It will be comprised of a series of stations much like the layers of hell in Dante that patrons will pass through on their way to lasting togetherness. Station 1 Men file through showers that spray Axe Body Spray (ABS); emerge reeking of "appeal." In a separate line, women are sprayed with a makeup gun and a fire hose filled with Clinique Happy. The lines converge at Station 2 A smokey, poorly lit bar that serves nothing but long island iced teas. 3 drink minimum. Stations 3 and 4 A Victoria's Secret, and finally, a DeBeers retailer.
Of course, I haven't forgotten the hipster set. This leg of Romance Alley/Fredenburgtown will be housed in a warehouse in a recently gentrified area. The ABS showers will instead spray armpit sweat collected from bike messengers onto both sexes. Station 2 would include cheap domestic beer as an option and have mood music provided by a local noise band that no one can profess to like but who are very popular regardless. Stations 3 and 4 would be a bookstore specializing in first editions and a coffee house with surly employees and foul coffee.