Is Grandma's ex-Boyfriend My Baby's Daddy?

I'm home sick today with either the beginning of a cold or a nasty bout of allergies. I'm a real wimp whn I'm sick, so instead of doing anything productive I've spent the morning watching Springer and Maury and eating box mac and cheese. It's my little white trash vacation and I'm enjoying it throughly. Springer was the usual series of stupid, ugly people coming clean about cheating and taking off their clothes. But Maury pulled out all the stops this morning: he's meeting with young women who want to know, Is Grandma's ex-Boyfriend My Baby's Daddy?

In a sane world no one would have to ask this question. But we don't live in a sane world, we live in a world where there are crazy people everywhere, doing crazy things every day. And before I go any further I'd like to make a distinction between using bad judgment and doing something crazy. Bad judgment is having a baby when you're not married and not financially or emotionally ready. Crazy is when the pool of potential fathers includes someone who has been dating your grandmother. Craziness may be different from bad judgment either in degree or in kind, but you know it when you see it. Unless you're the crazy person. Which brings us to the latest and hopefully last entry concerning JPK.

Yesterday, I mentioned that Jason's move to Issaquah might be motivated by a desire to be close to D4L (Dress for Less, Ross's official designation). Kids, it's so much worse than that. Three different people have told me that Jason has signed a 1 year lease with D4L, someone who Jason has known (as far as we know) for about 10 days. A man that, the last time we talked, Jason flat out denied was his boyfriend. Why on God's green earth do something that is so obviously a really, really bad idea? Well, maybe this lease is a backdoor attempt (pardon the phrase) to keep a boyfriend for more than a couple of weeks. Now the guy is contractually obligated for a year. Of course, it's just a theory, and I'm anxious to see how this little adventure plays out.

Last night after Spanish class Paul and I went to R Place, where we were met by Carlos, Curtis, and Mark. Apparently it was short guy night at the bar, because there were 4 or 5 really cute, short guys running around. Paul was drooling; he has this weird fetish for deaf midgets. No, they weren't deaf, but Paul drools over any guy shorter than him because they're few and far between. I got busted checking out this str8 guy that was standing outside the window with his friends. Took us awhile to figure out what they were doing: they could see the Red Sox-Yankees game on the TV through the window, and they were standing outside watching it. But they were afraid to come into the bar, I guess they thought the beer might make them gay or something. To paraphrase Haley Jo Osmet in The Sixth Sense, "Can I tell you a secret? I see crazy people. They walk among us not knowing that they're crazy, but they are."