In praise of the Lamborghini Poontang

and a marathon of bleeding nipples

I was at a work party last night - an end of year celebration, a corporate gathering.

The first question?

Where’s your other half / wife?

They changed the rule on allowing spouses because not enough people signed up.

I didn’t bring Laura because I really don’t know how to behave publicly on my own - let alone with my her in tow.

I mean, how does one deal? How do you do such things - show up and socialize with people one only partially knows with your partner - someone who doesn’t know or have any connection with the people there at all.

This sentiment might surprise some given the nature of the work I’ve done.

But working, no matter what - whether I were a wedding DJ, waiter, the rapist or tour guide, I’d always have a reason to be there - I was getting paid. And? I’d always have something to do and a reason to interrupt a conversation to go off and be alone.

I didn’t have time to be socially awkward. I was busy.

It’s so liberating having something to do.

But at this event where all I had to do…