Not that KY -- KY as in my old Kentucky home. After last week's vomitus interruptus, I've finally managed to make my way across the wilds of West Virginia to my mother's Lexington home. A few things that came to me during the nine-hour drive.
-- I definitely get extra butch points for driving a Jeep with a blown out rear window, and a jerry-rigged left panel that managed to keep out the snow in the mountains but still left the interior with a decibel level on par with a Boeing wind tunnel. But I really need to clean the thing -- it's starting to have the same feel and smell as one of grandpa's old farm trucks.
-- Maybe there's just a lot of construction with giant bulldozers and craines going on in rural Maryland and West Virginia, but I've never seen that many scary Wide Loads outside of a Golden Corral buffet.
-- If you happen to be a low-level drag performer who relocated to the West Coast yet still wants to pretend that I actually care about what you say, here's a tip. When you send out your e-mail blast with a list of "REAL magazines" comments about your latest tedious offering, you might want to think twice about including your craigslist posting on the list. It may be effective in promoting your show to people looking for used futons and fetish sex, but it ain't exactly Vanity Fair.
And that's probably one of those places I should just stop writing and start cooking dinner.