sturtle [dot] com

After spending 24 of the last 48 hours at Lucky Cheng’s slinging parasol-type girlie drinks to heterosexuals who still think drag is funny, and after waking up feeling vaguely like I’d been gang raped by the LA Lakers (no lube), I come to work and spend the better part of my morning debating, essentially, whether our annual membership solicitation should be on regular letterhead or special letterhead. As Sarah Michelle Gellar once said, “Jesus-effing-Christ.”