Ah, what a week. We laughed. We cried. We projectile vomited. Oh, the fun we had.
This was my return to posting-like-I'm-on-crack for the first time in a long time. I think I got 10 posts, like, one day, most of the time, I got eight. I'm shooting for 10 a day every day next week, dammit. I'm rusty. What can I say?
What was hot? I'll tell you what was hot. Those fucking stripper shoes with slots in them for tips. Everybody picked it up--from Xeni to Dlisted to Jezebel. After that, I sent an email to the company, asking them who thought of the idea. No one responded.
This week, the blog you should be reading is The Panther in Pumps. That's here, baby. If you're not reading it, you suck.
What did you like? Beyond the stripper shoes, I have no clue. The short posts? The long posts? The service-y posts? The personal posts? I guess I'll figure that out eventually. Who knows.
I wrote a post about burlesque legend Dixie Evans and the upcoming Exotic World Weekend and got a really sweet email from them, asking me did I want to come to Vegas and run around with the burlesque queens, to which I had to respond that I can't imagine anything I'd rather do, although I can't right now, but it was nice to imagine doing so.
I reviewed Chuck Palahniuk's new book Snuff and fucking hated it.
Hef farted.
Somebody asked about editing the Letters Project. I responded.
I wrote the first twenty pages of my novel. Praise the lord. Amen.
Have a rockin' weekend, come back for more next week, and thank you for reading.
Really.
