Why I Can’t Attend Your Wedding:
a series of excuses designed to avoid you going all “Alison” up in here, up in here.
– A ghost warned me not to.
– Allergic to Chicken Dance.
– Fear of cakes.
– Invoking white privilege.
– Faking Social Anxiety Disorder to score medical marijuana scrip; can’t risk blowing my cover.
– My cat died eight months from now.
– Bad astrology: mercury, in retrograde; house, gemini; gull, ascending. Fear return of the Ripper.
– A ring killed my parents– The Ring! (And then scream, do Japanese eyes).
– I feel like I’m coming down with something cough. Yeah. I feel feverish, uh, and my stomach is all wavy cough and my bones hurt. I have shortness of breath when physicall active, as while climbing steps; fatigue; I’m pretty sure my limp nodes, liver and spleen are swollen and ;cough; and my skin is full of red pet-eck-ee-ay.
– Too lonely; will have died by then of said loneliness.
– That’s the week of…
American Idol Auditions– with Paula gone, I think I have a real shot this year.
DragonCon– I didn’t spend the last three months smelting just to eat sterno-cooked Prime Rib by trident and dirk.
that Blowjob Contest: The Movie comes out– finally, my first, real Hollywood-adjacent screen credit.
– Sorry, Jewish holiday. Fucking Jews!
– Boycotting imperialist cummerbund industry.
– Something noble sounding about gayness.
– Still in love with you. (Sort of a lot).