Ode to shibbly joe:
I haven't been this drunk in the middle of the day since senior week.
We've been too depressed to write earlier. We've spent the last 72 hours calling every lead gained from the paper (aptly named "The Local Paper), the 3 listed craigslist ads, poorly handwritten for rent signs, and anything that the kennedy status vacation rental baronness "Mary" has to offer. All on foot in the rain on the bus (aptly named, "The Bus").
Our days of homeless toil are not softened by our early arrival to the church hostel were living in, as it is run by Scary McSkeletor (a would be 60-something vagabond house mother who tells 5 indecipherable stories at once whilst assigning us mild housekeeping duties in the sunday school room where we sleep). (I would add that she has walked in twice on D in the bathroom and woke the both of us yesterday to bring a gibberish speaking japanese american senior in (who she is having do manual labor) to just show her our room.)
Needless to say we have tried to spend little time there and have been too depressed to share our despair via blog.
But a few beers and promises of october rentals have put moderate pep in our step. Now if only we can get K to live on the wrong side of the tracks in a building that would have been the pride of the USSR...
