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by Lulu in space #61
He's a keeper. My new beau can read and even write. His name's Howie Bowie, and he can do lots of things, including earning a living. That's right. Howie's the first guy I ever dated who ain't on SSI. I think I finally snared the perfect man. Howie gets along with my boy Damian real good. Them two throw the ball around outside the trailer during the day, and they sit together in the same chair watching TV at night. When Damian finally falls asleep around 10:00 or 11:00, Howie carries me into the bedroom and boinks me wildly until we're both all red and sweaty and our gorilla screams of passion terrify Damian awake. Sometimes Howie shows up on my doorstep with bags of groceries, and I cook dinner for him and Damian. Howie gots manners. He chews with his mouth closed, and he's teaching Damian how to chew with his mouth closed, too. He's such a good influence on my boy. Plus, Howie actually eats breakfast, and I've never seen him start drinking before noon. Damian just loves his new daddy. His old daddy, Andy, still lives here in the trailer park, in space #91 with Maddog. But Andy just ain't interested in Damian no more, not since that time Damian reached into his diaper and smeared his own shit up and down the hallway in space #91 as high as he could reach. Andy says Damian can come back and hang with him and Maddog as soon as he's housebroke. But it don't look like that's about to happen any time soon. I told Andy that if he fastens Damian's diaper around his waist with duct tape, he can't reach in there and pull out fistfuls of shit, but Andy and Maddog both say Damian's exiled from space #91 until he's housebroke. All this housebreaking stuff ain't a problem to Howie, as long as he don't have to clean up the mess. Howie's faithful to me. He'll make me a great husband and a good father to Damian. He don't go sneaking out to bars or peeping into other folks' trailers. I feel sorry for Dot the crazy cat lady up the driveway in space #8. I see her beau Willy sneaking out of the trailer late at night sometimes so he can peep in the neighbor ladies' trailers. And sometimes when Dot's gone to the dollar store, Norm in space #83 comes over and Willy answers the door in a dress. My Howie would never do anything like that. I don't know if it's bad eyesight or if he's wearing rose-colored glasses. Unlike every other guy I ever dated, my new beau don't never call me a ugly snaggletoothed bitch. In fact, Howie says I'm downright pretty, in a Neanderthal sort of way. I don't know what it means, but I do know that Neanderthal is a awful pretty word. Yes, Howie Bowie is the perfect man, my knight in shining armor, and his trusty steed is a beat-up (but running) 1980s Ford Bronco. Knights in shining armor don't hump-em-and-dump-em, no-siree. Knights in shining armor marry the damsel. I expect Howie to pop the question any day now. And when he does, I will say yes!
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