Life gets increasingly weird. Like, logarithmically. I went out for a drink at a club I know last night, to hear some half-decent music and possibly talk to some people.
Man, what a stupid idea.
The club is nice and dead (the way I like it, not really a fan of crowds) for all of half an hour, and then it’s like Moses parked his damn ark right outside the door. Within the span of an hour, I’ve talked to 2 drag queens, a man with a killer mohawk who offers to shave me as well if I’ll come back to his pad, and a cute 18-year old chick who proceeds to tell me she’s on her third day of heroin detox within 5 minutes of her introduction and spends the rest of the night emphatically trying to convince me she’s killed someone before. I’m not making a shred of this up. I can’t write short fiction that gets better than this.
Almost done with my Gambit get-up for DragonCon. Wacky.
Dude, Noah had the Ark, Moses parted the tide pool and smelled like low tide.