Meet Joey.
Meet Jowi (Yo-wee).
Joey and
Jowi
are students at UofT
(pause for applause and breathless wonder).
They like buttertarts at the Buttery
-but
they haven’t met yet (dumdumdum).
Joey is an engineer
~the odds are good
but the goods are odd~
He studies all
the
time.
Sometimes his brain goes wobbly like Jello.
Sometimes he loses his shorts.
Jowi
is a womyn/activist/feminist/picese/
witch/bitch/worker/student/immigrant (her
granny still lives in Brazil)/socialist/
idealist/artist/twist-and-shout pouter
double major bio-chem and lit
(she’s going to be a gynecologist
or a clown)
(or a drummer)
And they have never met.
It’s true.
Joey spent his summer
vacation in India teaching
English (so funny — last time
he read for fun was never or
the 5th of never-ever)
He wears his fish
and emails his buddy Sandeep
who calls him “dawg”.
40,000 km away
Jowi mixed vegan
carrot juice and
her skin turned
orange and boy o
boy was it fun
ny to watch; she
also sold home-made
bracelets with femsym
jewels attached.
Jowi loves girls,
except on Tues
days when she
switches to
pigeons — mwah.
Here is a picture
of Jowi kissing an
enlarged pigeon on a
leash. Heart bubbles
hyperbolize love.
On SAC day Jowi ran around King’s College Circle with a rainbow flag her back. She also raced Marcello along Philosopher’s Walk but he (she is only 5’2 and has short legs). Joey stayed in one spot with his and sang about fire and hope. He wore GAP jeans. Guiltily.
Jowi + Joey ≠ Love
Joey + Jowi ≠ Know Each Other
J + J ≠ Same Planet
Wait for the wait to gain weight from the freight in the Trinity food line.
A picture of Joey
shows that he wears pretty
much the same clothes everyday.
If Jowi doesn’t switch stuff up
she
gets
naus
eous
Once she wore a cardboard airplane as a skirt.
Joey has only kissed once
(and it was dating and it
was good-bye)
because he is waiting for a girl
with cornflower eyes and a PhD
and no cavities and cool parents
who skydive for fun and
faithlikeachild and class –
and if he ever finds her he will probably be too
nervous to do anything but go into a corner and
patiently hurl for all he is miserably worth.
Joey loves Jesus
Jesus + Joey = TRUE LOVE
Jowi is sleeping with Marlene from accounting.
And Adrianna from Psych.
And her teddy bear.
She only yaks when she eats soy.
One day the hurricane came
and came and came
and blew the trees to
the ground and the beautiful
houses in
Haiti
fell
down.
And the wind blew blew blew
And Jowi wept wept wept
wept wept
wept wept wept
wept
wept tpew tpew
pewt twep
ewpt epwt
She told Adrianna, “I have to do
something.”
Then she put on her supercape
and went out to rescue the
world weeping. gnipeew.
Meanwhile, back at the batcave,
Joey was reading Ephesians 5:1-2 and it said:
Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved
children and live a life of love, just as Christ
loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant
offering and sacrifice to God.
He didn’t know what a fragrant
offering was
BUT
he knew about love and imitation
so he marched to a newspaper
MARCH!! MARCH!! MARCH!!
and he found something to love in Haiti.
Haiti was loved
like a peach in a basket of plums
like shades of blue on a disco ball
like bread like mercy
Joey got a jar and wrote
~I ♥ Haiti, Mon~
and he burst busily bound
for the Buttery and buttertarts
and a butter life for Haitians.
BUT
he ran into Jowi
waza-craka! wozo-croka!
and she said,
“pay me 50 cents and I’ll kiss Marlene,
won’t that be sexy?”
He wanted to call her a whore
(that’s not what Jesus would do)
dyke-feminist-anarchist-exhibitionist-pervert-psycho
fool
[breath. breathe. breath.]
He asked her instead,
“how ‘bout you take that 50 cents
and I’ll give it to Haitians?”
And she said,
“that’s what I was gonna do with it anyway,
mon.”
♥
♥
♥
They saw a canyon. They saw an idea. They saw a balloon.
“Say hey,”
said Jowi
“let’s take my marketable skills and your
keen head for deal-making and turn
this side-show into a money
scooping charity.”
And with that she kissed Marlene.
And Joey thought,
“over God’s dead body.”
They parted ways.
Buttressing for buttertarts
in the Buttery,
our heroine notices our
hero staring down
Spicy Thai Chowder (chow-dah)
and marble cheese across
the aisle. Sodexho
cannot stop them.
Judo chopping him into
10,000 million pieces
she says,
“You’re that judgmental religious prick, mon.
We don’t want your kind here. Why
dontch step off?”
Joey with the breastplate of righteousness
hauls out the sword of truth and
cleaves her in twain.
“It’s a free country.”
Burn.
peacelovegoodwishes
kids’ face paint
all
yellows and greens
~like snakes, like beans~
Insert picture of
Jowi surrounded by
seven candles (sacred
number) and sweet
incense like the
prayers of the saints.
Out came the goddess
as Jowi waited on the night
with wolf ’s bane (oregano)
lover’s palm (Adrianna’s nose ring)
baking powder (NaC2).
She was bald her
scalp shone — irradiant
— and her four eyes
gyrated to the music
of the spheres (lalala
lalalalala)
“Guide me” whispered
Jowi and her towel grew hot
(it was on fire)
“You’re pissing me off,” said
the goddess. “You come here
twice a year when it fits in your
poser bohemian schedual. I don’t
have patience for this,” and
with that she dissolved into a
pile of crystals. Jowi
picked one up, ate it, got her
lips pricked.
She called Adrianna who was busy. They broke up.
She called Marlene who was busy. They broke up.
Weeping.Jowi.Weeping.It was Thursday.The world wasn’t fair.
Bring in the Buttery
where butter things
than bulieved bugin.
Joey sits on a purple leather chair
around a walnut-stain table
sharing his struggles with
his men’s Bible study (topic
section Genesis 19, plight of Lot,
flight of Lot).
They talk about:
1. feeling like outsiders among a fallen world
2. justice vs. compassion
3. the red sox
4. the existence of angels
5. Mike’s dad’s back operation (they all agree to pray)
[Enter Jowi, stage left, with a banana.]
“There’s that girl I was telling you about,” says Joey. “The freak with
the kissing booth.”
“wwjd?” say the men. “frog. push. .”
Joey walks up to Jowi.
He is shaking in his boots.
He is shaking in his Nikes.
He is shaking in his Jesus sandals.
He is shaking hands with a girl.
“Can I help you peel that?”
Dumbest thing to say. But she’s endeared. And he sits down.
They foxtrot, tango, waltz.
“Do you like sushi? caramels? wine?”
“Are you anti-landmine?”
“Do you think sex is divine?”
“Any friends who’ve broke their spine?”
“What moves you to cryin’?”
“Ever waste your time?”
“Wanna save the pine?”
“Heard ‘Shine Jesus Shine’?”
“When’s the last time you were caught lyin’?”
“When’s the last time you were?”
“Two hours ago.”
“I was six.”
Guns in their holsters
all’s right with the world.
They try to kiss but
the olive branches get in
their way. No matter.
Hand in hand Jowiey pillgrimages across Northern Europe (leaves salt at
Drachau, spills blood on the snow), changes shoes, swims heavy rivers,
sunburns, laughs, goes further, grasps hands, goes further, gets lice.
itchyitchyitchyitchyitchyitchyitchyitchyitchyitchyitchyitchyi
And it’s good good good to be alive. Amen and amen.
Joey loves Jowi. (That is so “Chasing Amy”)
Jowi loves Jesus.
Jesus loves Joey.
It’s a love triangle.
Δ