Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary

You will have heard it's hot. It's so hot a woman pulled out her right breast to get some air. Josh and I were taking a walk, and we were about to cross paths with this woman. I thought she had her arms crossed, and I was seeing her elbow, but that meant she had three arms, and no, it was a smooth black boob. The woman didn't look at us. It's just so hot out there. I've been dreaming about scorpions.

Josh is in a play about DADA. It's about the literary DADA, not the visual art DADA. Josh and I went to art school, so we know the material. It's hard with history. I feel like it dies getting to me, and all I have to look at are the bones. That's fine, though. I wanted to be a paleontologist. I like bones. This play is better than bones. It's set up like a cabaret. The actors have a lot of fun with sound poetry and manifestos. Everyone is attractive and excited. There's one more show on Friday, so go, please go.

I took my shirt off and swam in a pool for the first time in maybe two years. There are Speedos, and then there are Speedos. Speedos are the illusion of clothing, and I'm on-board with that illusion. One man in a Speedo climbed out of the pool, and his Speedo slipped enough for some well-made ass to fall out. Speedos are like Band-Aids in that they always fall off when they're wet. I looked at my friend and said, "I got what I came for," and she said, "I know, right?" It's good to be in agreement. Two other men had Speedos, and they apologized for them, but we all waved our hands and said, "Oh no, it's fine." And it was. It was very fine indeed.

Molly Laich interviewed me. I forgot to tell you about it, but here you go. She came dangerously close to saying my name three times in a row. We know what comes of that. Nothing good.