Check the “good” Wal Mart.


Thank you for taking care of me while I’m recovering from surgery. If you could be a doll, and bring the following things by when you come to check on me:
A half gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream
Paper Towels
size 14 womens flip flops
Dales brand steak tenderizer and marinade.
2 pounds catnip
An 8mm hex drive
A copy of “Framton Comes Alive” on 8 track.
A Vietnamese man named Moshe


At least it’s not about an old man going fishing…

Some of you may be wondering why I haven’t written anything in almost a month. Well, I have a good answer for that.

It’s none of your damned business.

Seriously though, I’ve been busy with a few things in my life. Birthdays, big shows, and the possibility that I have a tumor in my skull which I’m getting cut out later this week. The fact that I have something growing in my head is both scary and exhilarating. In my view, if you have cancer, you’ll always have something young deep inside you.

In reality, I’ve never been much of a writer. I mean, yeah, I can form thoughts and ideas and can compose entire short stories and such, but I’ve never seen myself as a writer. There’s just so many things that go into being a strong, informative writer that I just seem to lack. Things like:

1.) Tragic past. Sure, my parents died before I was 19 and I grew up in the Deep South as a closeted bisexual transgender woman, but I don’t….

Wait, skip it.

2.) History of substance abuse. Of course I’m the only person I know of who was thrown out of a frat party for being to drunk, as well as having a habit of two fisting pitchers of beer…You know what? We’ll skip this one too.

3.) College education in the fine arts. Okay, definitely do not have a college degree! (See reason 2.)

4.) Obsessive behavior. This is clearly disproved as the only addiction I have is to reading things on the internet and watching….oh, Goddamn it.

Well, I guess with fitting three of the four qualifiers for being a writer, I should just accept that I have apparently developed a small but loyal following. No smaller than than most bloggers of course.

With little fanfare I should accept that I am indeed a writer at this point, and start writing.