Another Day in Trump's Pandemic Dystopia
I moved into a new apartment complex last summer. It was very exciting! It's one of those revitalization things. This one was planned to revitalize the Ronkonkoma, NY train hub. It's quite beautiful and I love my apartment, which has a huge deck and overlooks the pool.
There were detailed plans for restaurants and shops, but those fell by the wayside for now of course. No building is being done. And I think a lot of people have actually moved out. My building has become eerily quiet. Except for the guy who lives above me and does a lot of pacing.
For weeks I thought they had done away with security. We used to have this big security truck that drove around all night long. For several weeks I haven't seen it. Then last night I saw what looked like a security car. The small cars you see at the mall. You know, like a bumper car. It's basically going from being protected by Captain America to Pee Wee Herman. But I never felt I needed to be protected anyway. I mean, if Cap was wandering around my parking lot I have lots of things he could do other than security laps. So I don't really care about that.
But it has gone from being a vibrant, growing community about to blossom into a new city, to an eerie death rattle. Kind of like America under Trump!
I honestly don't know where my neighbors are since none of them talk to me anyway. You know all those platitudes they give you on tv? We're all in this together! Americans love helping other Americans! Yeah, not here. I don't know about by you. Here people avert their eyes as if the virus can be transmitted by eye contact.
I had assumed I'd probably have some fun here this summer, and was hoping for some good zipless fucks. Did you ever read Erica Jong's Fear of Flying? I always loved that term, zipless fucks! I consider her a genius for coining it.
Here is how she defines it: "when you came together, zippers fell away like rose petals, underwear blew off in one breath like dandelion fluff. For the true ultimate zipless A-1 fuck, it was necessary that you never got to know the man very well."
Never get to know the man very well. Exactly. Getting to know the man well really puts the zipper into the fuck, and your head gets caught in it, and the next thing you know you are having to listen to his thoughts on Ayn Rand and John Galt and hello I'd rather be dead thanks.
The best zipless fucks I ever had were when I met this really hot blacksmith from Cape Cod, and we started meeting in Conneticut for weekend sex. It was so hot. You know what happened? He zipped me. He talked me into moving in with him, and our weekends went from zipless to zippered, and my head got stuck. So that ended. I truly believe we'd still be having glorious weekend sex if I had refused to move.
Anyway, I don't see many fucks, zipless or otherwise, happening for me this summer. It's okay, don't worry about me, if it gets bad I can just turn on the tv, where Trump is ON 24 HOURS A DAY, see his face, and there ends the heatwave. Is Trump the biggest lady-boner killer in the history of man? I think I can make the case.
BTW, a few months ago Erica Jong started following me on Twitter. I totally fangirled out, but very quietly. I didn't scream, OMG you're following me? I love you and your zipless fucks! I played it like, yeah, I'm cool, of course Erica Jong would be following me. But the truth is I check every once in a while to make sure she's still there.
There were detailed plans for restaurants and shops, but those fell by the wayside for now of course. No building is being done. And I think a lot of people have actually moved out. My building has become eerily quiet. Except for the guy who lives above me and does a lot of pacing.
For weeks I thought they had done away with security. We used to have this big security truck that drove around all night long. For several weeks I haven't seen it. Then last night I saw what looked like a security car. The small cars you see at the mall. You know, like a bumper car. It's basically going from being protected by Captain America to Pee Wee Herman. But I never felt I needed to be protected anyway. I mean, if Cap was wandering around my parking lot I have lots of things he could do other than security laps. So I don't really care about that.
But it has gone from being a vibrant, growing community about to blossom into a new city, to an eerie death rattle. Kind of like America under Trump!
I honestly don't know where my neighbors are since none of them talk to me anyway. You know all those platitudes they give you on tv? We're all in this together! Americans love helping other Americans! Yeah, not here. I don't know about by you. Here people avert their eyes as if the virus can be transmitted by eye contact.
I had assumed I'd probably have some fun here this summer, and was hoping for some good zipless fucks. Did you ever read Erica Jong's Fear of Flying? I always loved that term, zipless fucks! I consider her a genius for coining it.
Here is how she defines it: "when you came together, zippers fell away like rose petals, underwear blew off in one breath like dandelion fluff. For the true ultimate zipless A-1 fuck, it was necessary that you never got to know the man very well."
Never get to know the man very well. Exactly. Getting to know the man well really puts the zipper into the fuck, and your head gets caught in it, and the next thing you know you are having to listen to his thoughts on Ayn Rand and John Galt and hello I'd rather be dead thanks.
The best zipless fucks I ever had were when I met this really hot blacksmith from Cape Cod, and we started meeting in Conneticut for weekend sex. It was so hot. You know what happened? He zipped me. He talked me into moving in with him, and our weekends went from zipless to zippered, and my head got stuck. So that ended. I truly believe we'd still be having glorious weekend sex if I had refused to move.
Anyway, I don't see many fucks, zipless or otherwise, happening for me this summer. It's okay, don't worry about me, if it gets bad I can just turn on the tv, where Trump is ON 24 HOURS A DAY, see his face, and there ends the heatwave. Is Trump the biggest lady-boner killer in the history of man? I think I can make the case.
BTW, a few months ago Erica Jong started following me on Twitter. I totally fangirled out, but very quietly. I didn't scream, OMG you're following me? I love you and your zipless fucks! I played it like, yeah, I'm cool, of course Erica Jong would be following me. But the truth is I check every once in a while to make sure she's still there.
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