Beer Blood

Part of taking a shower is shampooing my hair and thinking about greater themes. In recent showers, all the Jakes became Johns, except the main Jake who is still Jake. The greater themes so far are SEX WITH STRANGERS and GAY MEN AND THE WOMEN WHO LOVE THEM. I don't know how fair it is for the female character I'm writing to literally be every influential woman I know slammed into one body. That seems wrong when all these different men get their own bodies. BOOKS! Ha ha. I tell you.

Two of my stories are still landing on editor's shoulders and biting them. Hopefully the stories will draw blood and the editors will be like, "What the fuck bit me?" And the story will be like, "Just this story by Casey Hannan, that's what." The editors will hear it like a whistle through a sleeping person's nose. I hope.

In other bite news, I was outside drinking beer with men who probably all have more chest hair than I do, and I caught a mosquito biting my hand. I smacked it and there was blood. I thought about whose blood it might be. I looked around at the other men drinking beer. I thought it might be his blood or his blood or his blood. There were also two dogs and I thought about how it was probably dog's blood. I wiped it on the arm of a chair and it never turned brown like blood does when it dries. Definitely dog's blood.