Michael Lovelace just gave me a friggin' ultimatum. The nerve!
Demon-daddy called me roughly twenty minutes ago to gather my insurance information so he could be "ready for insemination proceedings," whatever THAT means. I was appalled!
"Hold on there, director guy," I told him. "I'm not even sure I want to do this yet. I mean, no one's even commented on my blog."
He basically told me that I could accept his request and get the commercial role, or decline and have my liver fed to his newborn upon birth. I asked to sleep on it.
Hopefully I'll have some answers tomorrow morning. I mean, I like my liver. That's the whole reason why I refuse alcohol at social gatherings.
All my best,