Don't Be the Bunny

Josh is going to be in a musical down by the river. It's not the part of the river that smells like sleep breath. It's the part of the river that smells like coffee. Like, coffee all the time. It's a place for young, urban professionals and the people who go through their garbage. I saw someone chasing a cat down there, and I thought, what is that cat running from?

You can buy tickets HERE if you're in KC and want to see my boyfriend act like a singing and dancing corrupt senator. If you don't want to see that, I don't know what's wrong with you. What are YOU running from?

I sat on the porch last night and smoked a single mentholated cigarette with my friend and sister-like equivalent from Arkansas. We watched an opossum cross the street. The opossum did not look both ways. This is probably why I've seen the inside of an opossum more times than I can count.

It's been a while, but I have a couple stories coming out. Neither one has a ghost in it. One of the stories is sexy and the other is funny. They're both pretty gay. Pretty, pretty gay. And the book! The gay ghost book! It's the gayest, ghostiest book you'll ever read. If you're uncomfortable with ghost penises, maybe don't read it. Or do read it. Challenge yourself to face your ghost penis fears. They're just ghost penises. They'll go right through you and you won't feel a thing.

You should know I'm about to go make one of these fake sausages.