let's start from the very beginning

dear world,

one time i lost my mind. instead of taking opportunities for music and success and the generally amazing life that was to be my destiny post-graduation, i decided to shack up with a lunatic portuguese fellow for about 8 months and engage in a neverending cycle of debauchery, narcissism, and self-destruction. it was not one of my greatest moments, let's put it that way.

it was soon after that debacle ended that i met my future husband.

one night i was at a bar with a group of friends, and this crazy guy with the words "piss" and "vomit" tattooed on his arms intrigued me. he was very small and very dirty, but of course my taste in men has never been seen as classy or typical. or healthy. somehow, after many shots and beers, we ended up sitting at the bar with my fake leg in his hands and a full beer being emptied into it. apparently it had always been his dream to drink a beer out of a prosthetic leg...unfortunately, there's a hole at the bottom of the socket which serves to hold the suction cup that keeps the leg attached to my baby leg. the end result of future husband's attempt at a dream come true was beer all over the floor and his pants, and a rusty leg that had to be taken into the shop the next day. when i took the leg in to my trusty doc, al, he was appalled. not only by the beer-smelling leg, but also by the lovely array of squirting penises and other vulgar pictures that had mysteriously appeared on the bottom and top of the foot. al promptly took a belt sander to it and, that, my friends, is why i now have a foot that looks like i have acquired an accute case of leprosy.

xoxo,
e