Stripping toughened my hide, but exposing myself as a writer has been a lot more brutal.

I do a nice sloppy first draft like everybody else. And then just work at it and work at it and groom it. I get input from other people.

Juno MacGuff: [yelling through the house] Dad? Mac MacGuff: What? Juno MacGuff: Either I just peed my pants or um... Mac MacGuff: *Or*...? Juno MacGuff: THUNDERCATS ARE GO!

Nah... I mean, I'm already pregnant, so what other kind of shenanigans could I get into?

I am actually able to do other things. I'm not just this writer.

Above the stage was a glass-floored second stage, which allowed customers to look up and watch another girl dancing overhead. This multidimensional display of poontang reminded me of the 3-D chessboard on Star Trek, which in turn reminded me that I was a huge nerd.

The stuff I write isn't strictly autobiographical, but it's personal, if that makes any sense. It draws all these little incidents and people out of my life and then contorts them.