Road Trip

My boyfriend’s name is Iron, you just need to get over that, but Iron told me I’m a horrible person because I like sunshine and the beach and I tell Iron that’s fine then, but let’s at least do something, go somewhere. Let’s walk the railroad tracks at night, let’s get our tits out at a burlesque, let’s go to a theme park and steal children’s popcorn and smoke crack with the ferris wheel operator. Maybe your mom will die of a stroke when we’re halfway across the country. Maybe a natural disaster in an unknown city will hone our latent leadership skills. Maybe I discover dark truths about myself that can only be fully realized in the midst of a luciferian orgy, and you can go shopping that day. Iron thought about all the ways he could get cancer from those things and couldn’t come up with anything quite as bad as melanoma, and that’s really how the road trip began.