I Can't Believe

one night I was so drunk I asked Jason Mraz to pay for my sex change operation on his blog. This was left as a comment. The next day I didn't remember I did this but I accidentally found out I did. Then I sort of remembered and I got this sort of chill in my spine, as though I had threatened to assassinate the president in a public way...or something irrevocable like that anyway. I didn't want a sex change the next day. Or the day after that. It was just something that seemed funny at the time, asking a music celebrity for sex change money. Drunks think of all sorts of escape plans that make no sense. Many of them die when these imaginary parachutes don't open. I would like to say that was when I hit bottom, but that would be not exactly true. You can't hit bottom on a blog, can you? I deleted the comment. I hope Jason Mraz didn't see it. Probably he was in Thailand or India and probably doesn't read his comments anyway unless there is a mini showing a hot chick. And probably even if he did it sounded like your typical stupid blogger joke. So I'm probably fine. I don't drink anymore. And I don't ask celebrities for sex change dinero. Since it's so easy to get a sex change now in Asia there are probably people who actually have done it on a drunken whim. What would I do with all this lovely gorilla fur anyway? Donate it to kids with cancer? I think I was just fascinated with how they take all that skin down there and invert it like a Halloween mask to make female genitalia. I think I'm attracted to the idea of it the way you can't really resist Silly-Putty or Playdoh if somebody puts it in your hands. Especially if you are very drunk at the time.