The people who put Ketchup on a hot dog.
And so, I am giving it up to my first true love: Country Music. Appropriate when a Hank Williams biopic appears.
I love the twang. I love the whine. I want my dog run over by a car, my wife to leave me, the transmission to drop out of my pickup. I want to wear a big hat, as if I’d ever been closer to a real ranch than T-Meadow farms.
I want to bitch about everything.
So, look for my first single release: You Can Pry My Foie Gras Out Of My Cold Dead Hands, You Petaphile. The B-Side is: Bone Broth Cured My Herpes.
"I was born a duck minders daughter . . . "



















