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,
PE
 
 

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