UPDATE: Young Senator Freaky Deak

"Pin the tail on the jackass"

Just picked up a call assuming it was a status update from my sculptor on my commissioned Swarovski crystal donkey installation and instead it's the Young Senator Freaky Deak, the married-with-child Democratic politician I met in Newport a couple weeks back.

Before I could even digest the cosmic meaning of why my life was coming up jackasses, Deakitician says he has the most amazing news for me. I jump to the conclusion that he has designated a spot for me on his re-election campaign as fundraising coordinator for the young professionals, and I begin to conceptualize the inaugural event. In two months my donkey installation will be complete so I can lend it to the political operative gratis, albeit I get clearance from the state's campaign financing committee. The sculpture will then function as the buffet centerpiece at the W Hotel kickoff banquet titled "Donkeying for a New Democracy."

But my pipe dreams go up in smoke and Deak ejaculates (for lack of a better word) the most pungent spewing of drivel ever: "Now we can finally consummate our feelings. I'm getting a divorce!"

I am speechless and can barely swallow this admission/emission. Finally I say, "Why? From everything you've told me you have the most amazing wife and baby. People go through adversarial circumstances but there is counseling and ways to come out on top."

He responds, "On top is where I want you to be."

I deak-out and my heart races 100 deakometers per minute. "I don't think you should be saying this to me...This is getting weird," I deaknounce.

"No, no, no. You shouldn't feel that way at all. It's iffy right now but I really want you to come over and we can talk this through. Just not quite yet. I can't let my doorman see me bringing you over until things get more squared away with her, not to mention the surveillance cameras. But soon enough," Deak says.

What deaklusional realm of the universe does he live in? I tell him I have to run, not before reiterating the benefits of couples counseling, even though I personally think that psychoanalysis is jackass-inine.

My own version of the freakin deakin Mr. Ed song keeps playing in my head:

A horse is a horse, of course of course,
But I am not, nor refuse to be,
The source, or centrifugal force,
That is, of course, if we're talking deakvorce.