With much fanfare and teased hair did we kickoff El Camino ArtRV with her inaugural exhibition, Last Chance Salon.
It is hard to come back to earth after a show, especially a really good one. One awakes and finds that one has to still floss and locate a clean pair of underwear. Instead of gold statuettes and handprints in concrete, one must endure the opinions of nimrods. In spite of the glaring oversight of not becoming wealthy and famous, I am pleased with how it all went off. Here is a smashing review of the whole affair. Bedraggled, bedazzled, I’ll take it.
So what else is going on, apart from the annoyance of having to pit my own cherries? People want exorbitant sums of money for things. Apparently, a high level of functioning as a human requires a good deal of money. And we dare to scorn Scientology! The good thing about paying one’s bills is that you get to yell at people. Before you start feeling sympathy for a complete stranger, it was just a health insurance toady. Those clever trousers have found a way to cheat me out of coverage for my preferred method of birth control. Don’t they know it is a public health imperative to prevent me from procreating?!? At least my second favorite method is still free. Yelling at people!
We have received many letters of shock and outrage that we have failed to participate in Weinerweek (I am as fed up with the -gate suffix as anyone). YAWN. Tish tosh, my pretties, you must all know that in the parlance of vomitola, every week is weinerweek. Hence my becoming more aerated than usual at the prospect of being thwarted by my health care provider. With weiners as in life, the best defense is a good offense!