Hey, Ms. Pussycat! Is that a banana in your pocket?
Or are you just glad to see me?
Well, dare I say it? I will be heading out into the extremely charted waters of Erie, PA tomorrow night to have a late-eighties slash early-90's reunion of sorts with Sean-go, Amy Z., Herr Gary, and Lady Ruby at the drag show. If you're in town, and ever saw me almost beat up five guys at once for talking crap on the band Slade... come join the party.
We'll see if I actually go. I thought making a public announcement would force me into going. But, I am rarely forced to do anything. Yes, I challenge my own authority even when it comes to bodily functions. And, obligation is the excuse of suckers. If I am ever cornered into submission by law or might, I can usually do some pretty good internal debating to finally convince myself it was my idea anyway. So, no matter how much I would love to see old friends who have not written me off despite past stumbles, cartwheels, and highdive back flips... we all know I hate crowds (defining a crowd as a collective containing three or more people). Place your bets. As your bookie, I plan on taking a large percentage of your actual winnings regardless of the outcome. No, this is not fixed. Just ante up your money. Gee, I sure hope I don't panic and go.
Oh, and when discussed with Sargent Tammy Peppers, he told me he wasn't so into dressing in women's clothing. To which I answered as walking away, "Yeah. Neither am I."
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