the wife had kindly asked the bastard to keep his yap shut about our home buying nightmare.
as the daughter of superstition, she doesn't want to jinx shit.
but she married jinx incarnate.
so a bastard can't help himself.
as I sit here rockin a coffee on the f train I tell you that the search is coming to a close soon.
this will no doubt lead to our next big heart attack.
which is the buying
and the frikkin job keeping too.
this economy hangs like the sword of damacles which leaves the bastard glad for the hunting and fishing populace of flyover country as well as the tobacco hawking creators of velveeta which keep us employed.
at least the anticipation keeps it inneresting while it slowly kills me.