Mormons, Montana and Crystal Meth
So I got turned down. By the fucking mormons or whatever who live in beautiful, spacious, soul cleansing Montana. I was seriously looking forward to that trip to Victoria, it would have fallen right at the end of the summer, then I could have made my $10 grand, put half towards the show and then jetted off to Paris to spend the autumn picking up French people and eating baguettes. But NO! They just HAD to take issue with the fact that I drink and smoke. I mean come ON! It’s not like I’m injecting heroin into my system, I’m not doing rails off the back of truck stop toilets, nor have I ever used or would ever use crystal meth (apparently it’s a problem in rural Montana- apparently it’s a problem in rural anywhere…godammit Breaking Bad!) I drink sure, who doesn’t these days. Yes, maybe my entire social life revolves around going for beers but other than that I am the paragon of purity. I mean, I work out, I’ve been to Yoga twice in the past year and I definitely walk everywhere. Plus I have two degrees, speak three languages and am a member of mensa. Okay the mensa part is a lie but I did fill out some of their puzzles in a book once and I did pretty well with that. So anyway these Montana Mormons have deemed me sullied and therefore will not be flying me out to beautiful BC to retrieve fifteen to twenty of my zygotes. zygotes? Back to the drawing board. Eggs for sale! Anyone? Bueller?