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the love that can dare speak its name

February 15, 2011

I believe I established emphatically in yesterday’s post that I love Jude.

I did this by not asking her to return a $166 bra she bought.  Actually,

it’s a “Class 1 Medical Device for orthopedic problems and general/

plastic surgery”, according to its website.

I checked out Victoria’s Secret and its slutty step-cousin, Frederick’s of

Hollywood.  Neither of them offer orthopedic devices of any ilk.  They

weren’t in Vickie’s top ten search, but “Miraculous”, “UGG”, “NFL” and

“Lacie” were.  The closest things I could find at Freddie’s were bustiers

and the “Take My Breath Away” corset.  That doesn’t sound orthopedic.

Ater my love of Jude, then family, then friends, then Monty Python,

then snow crab legs, then garden zombies, I love manly stuff.  You

know, the NFL, workboots, chain saws, ham and the like.  So it’s with

great pride that I introduce you to our studliest purchase of the year

thus far, a 1994 Nissan truck:

Revel in its whiteness, this is the cleanest it will ever be again.  Note the

first deposit of mud on the back panel from our unpaved road.

Likewise, this is the best the interior will ever look under our stewardship.


One of the selling points was this sunroof.  This will be a plus should

the sun ever reappear.

I know that many men put a lot of psychosexual value in their vehicles.

I got past that one when I gained control of my genitals in the 1970’s.  It

wasn’t just my aversion to disco.  I turned 30 and got, like, real mature.

Anyway, all my vehicle purchases since then have been pragmatic.

That’s of utmost importance out here.  Four wheel drive is vital to us

getting through a winter.  Our Honda hybrid does well most of the time,

but it has its limits.  We learned them after our first winter here.  We had

to pay $1000 for repairs to its undercarriage.

But it’s more than that.  This truck will haul firewood, gravel, cardboard,

mulch, fertilizer, sawdust, top soil and drain rock.  It will help friends and

neighbours move.  It will make dump runs and trips to the lumber yard,

hopefully year after year.  It will take us and the dogs on the rugged logging

roads that go even deeper into the forest.  Slinkee will jump effortlessly

in the back, and we’ll hoist Roameo into the cab, where he would stay all

day if he had his d’ruthers.  All four of us love these outings.  We go to

places like this:


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