A few weeks ago I went to a wedding. Two humans I know and am fond of decided to bond themselves legally but also with dried fondue. It was a special wedding because one of the brides was ginger, which is outlawed on my planet.
They are both very nice people, and they are probably reading this, but this is not about them. It is about me. Me me me. That said, I dedicated this radio broadcast to them, in the hopes the host might record it so I could send it to them. So here we are, the thing I thought would happen has happened.
I managed somehow to clamber out of the burning husk of teenage nervousness and dance with people. I had a good time. I got to get some Bowie on the dance floor, and I missed out on big salmon because it was in a corner of the room which I couldn’t see because of reasons not related to alcohol or my own incompetence.
Less then 48 hours later, I had stumbled back home and back out again, to record a live interview with Stephen Armstrong of THE MONDAY STRETCH.
In it I talked about books, religion, why my robot wife left me, if planets could talk, where I came from, WHERE I REALLY CAME FROM, and why the FBI keeps stealing my socks.