snakeplissken

I'm going to go visit my folks back in Iowa next week. And I hate flying. I hate it. I have no patience for the amount of interaction required, and I hate wedging myself into those tiny airline seats. The food sucks, the cabins are stuffy, and I always get stuck next to some stinky hippy with sprout farts. Fuck it, I'll just get drunk at the bar before takeoff.

Saturday at the strip club get together I'm going to convince the gothiest stripper I can find that MisterSatan is actually Anton LeVay's nephew.