Sometimes I feel that life would be easier if I moved to a suburban community just outside of Washington DC.
I’ve been watching a lot of American television recently. It’s probably the fault of things like Netflix and me not having enough money to go out as much as I’d like.
Or more that I did have enough money to go out, but I sort of thought to hell with it and spent all of it in the first two weeks of my pay cycle on a surf board and not being sober.
Yeah that’s probably it.
It’s because everyone that lives in small American suburban communities seem to have really nice houses. Like, with island kitchens and golden retrievers running through beautiful back yards, beautiful wives and 2.5 kids.
Well… maybe not everyone, but definitely most of them. Then again I can’t be sure because I’m basing this hypothesis on the first 4 episodes of Homeland. But if that red head guy can be a prisoner of the Taliban in Afghanistan for 8 years and still afford such a lovely home it must be the case.
Which suggests if I move there I could have one of those fancy houses too. I think I make more than a prisoner of war in Afghanistan but I’ll have to double check.
Yep, got it. My job pays better.
I feel like when I have my house there every conversation will go like this.
David: Sam, how are you? Are we golfing this Saturday?
Sam: Only if you bring that new driver of yours, oh boy does that thing hit straight!
D: I wish my son was that straight; he’s a weird one. He wears eyeliner and dark clothes. The other day I found him in my bedroom holding my handgun, muttering something about bullies. Children can we weird right. And how’s Sally, is she studying for exams yet? And little Chris, he had a mean swing at little league the other day. And the other .5 of your children, the one you literally cut in half so you could have the perfect amount of children? How’s he doing? Still just sort of lying there whaling? I think I can hear him sometimes
S: Oh they’re doing just fine, yes Sally’s 16, she’s homecoming queen, and as for little Billy, well yesterday we found him trying to drown himself. We put him back in bed but he just kept wheezing and saying “kill meeee”. It sure is different being a parent.
D: Right you are Sam, I’ll see you Saturday. You be sure to say hello to that wife of yours.
Yeah, it seems nice there in Washington DC.