For Those Who Missed It

This is the piece I read at My Sucky Valentine--it's a riff off of Kay Jewelry's very annoying slogan "every kiss begins with Kay." So...


Other Things That Begin With K

K is also for kidnapping, as in, should you ever be kidnapped and held for ransom, you’ll be glad you held onto those diamonds your ex-lover gave you, even though you later figured out she bought you nice things like necklaces and roses every time she cheated on you.

K is for Kill, as in, “Trying to buy my love with mass-produced jewelry studded with ethically suspect diamonds kind of kills the romance.”

K is for Killjoy, as in, “stop trying to make me think about things like ethics and cultural expectations and oppression and stereotyping and alienation when I’m just trying to get laid, you big killjoy!” You may have guessed that I hear that one a lot.

K is for Kale, one of my favorite vegetables. It is not red and tender and sweet. It is dark and green and tough to chew. Now you know why it is one of my favorite vegetables.

K is for Kidney. Not heart. Kidney. It processes your waste and turns it into gold. For that, you should thank your kidney right now. Also, most of us have a kidney to spare, which cannot be said of your heart. Metaphorically or otherwise.

K is for Kick. Love is a habit that most of us can’t kick.

K is for King-Sized. Now that’s what I want for Valentine’s Day. Forget roses and chocolates and lingerie-clad teddy bears, and order me up a king-sized bed filled with a selection of my favorite morsels, please.

K is for kowtow, as in, I refuse to kowtow to oppressive capitalist ideas of manufactured, overpackaged, red, heart-shaped sentimentality. Reclaim red for revolution! Smash the state!

K is for Kook, which is what I sound like when I spout off about revolution like that.

K is for Kleptomaniac. Now that's sexy.

K is for Klutz, as in, you were a klutz with my heart the whole time we were dating.

K is for Kamikaze. A suicide mission glorified by romantic appeals to patriotism.

K is for Kvetch, which is what I’m doing now.

K is for Kaiser. Hooray for for-profit healthcare!

K is for Kerosene. Also sexy!

K is for Kibosh, as in, she put the kibosh on our relationship.

K is for Kaput.

that's my stomach growling that you hear.

Fuck me, I either have to get a better-paying gig, or else stop researching restaurants in the area for a while.

Meanwhile, I want to go to Nopalito Real Soon Now. I blame the above plus the recent passing of Mexican-born grandfathers for this sudden urge.

P.S.: Mexican-born! That's what I should have been saying all these years instead of the long "Mexican, but not Hispanic, no not Spanish white either, just white-white, like Texas* white, yes Spanish-speaking though, but, um..."



* Actually, Missouri, as I found out recently.