Welcome Wagon

There’s a new bitch in town, and she goes by the name Pants. I only hope she doesn’t catch the Jesus--I hear it itches in the nether regions.

My lovely friend is moving to the land of Zion this week. She hails from San Francisco where wine flows cheaply and the men, while gay, are very, very pretty. I suspect the shock value of her new home will drive her to daily drinking. YAY!

She comes from religious stock, but like myself quit that shit years ago. Who said quitting was a bad thing?

I'll let the good old women of Relief Society know you've arrived, dear girl. Let the baked goods begin. They magically appear on my doorstep twice a month. I think the treats will go well with our Bloody Mary Sundays-- the only true religion for kids like us!