Soon my ordeal will be over, and I will shed these bonds so that we may be together again. Night after night, day after day, I think of nothing but being with you, my little gerbil of joy. I fantasize of sitting in the front row, holding your delicate little hand in mine, our blood pounding through our veins in lustful anticipation as the lights go out and The Corrs take the stage.
It’s been a long time since we’ve been together, my rabid little schnauzer. The others never understood our passion, but I remember the stolen moments at The Waterboys concert when you looked into my eyes and told me I was the only headliner for you. My heart melted when you pressed up against me at the John Prine concert, and I felt your eager young body through your favorite blue dress. I relive those moments every day, as I trudge through the daily drudgery of my existence.
I count down the weeks and scratch off the days in anticipation of my January release. Soon the day will come when I can walk out of here to see your round, chubby face, your silken black hair capped by that cute beret, waiting for me. Yes, Melanie C, aka Sporty Spice has nothing on you. Not when you wear that sexy little thong I like so much, and we’re smoking cigars while standing in line for Heather Nova and Camel. And we’ll laugh at the others, for they will not know, they will not understand, what it is like to be with a woman as breathtaking as you.
Yes, my lithesome little pot-bellied piglet, the day approaches when we can have all of this, including Automatic 7, 3 Doors Down and Marshall Crenshaw. We’ll be together again, as fate intended us. Nothing will stop us, unless… unless…
Unless Hillary loses her senate campaign and I’m stuck on Long Island with one extremely ticked-off woman. Then we’ll have to make other plans.