emergency stashes; a mishmash

• in my teens, dancing 5-7days a week, it was a squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup in the dance bag that i never made chocolate milk with; i keep tea in my smoke box for as long as i've had one, and sometimes dry milo. i seem to have settled on tea, catch(dark) and (patsy's split)channa as constants, with a rotating cast of tunnocks, jubjubs, red mango and roughtops, and tamarind balls when i lucky, for the munchies.
• i met a stripper ('missy' from new zealand) who performed with a little velvety green+gold-trimmed bailey's cloth baggie tied to her garter to keep tips. i told her i had a similar soft purple+gold-trimmed crown royal bag i'd bring her from when we used to do shots in the dressingroom before every hedwig show; she was thrilled. i got home and realised (duh, had i thought of the bottle that came in it insteada studying cloth sliding up missy's thigh) my bag was way too big for the same purpose as her bailey's number, but never saw her @ the palace again anyway. now i keep sextoys in it, in her honour.
• boys are gross and hilarious. a friend tell me how back in the day when one of his pardners bep in a lime, them boys would crack open a raw egg over his bumseecrack and leave it drying sticky for him to wake+find and think somebody violate his arse while he sleep. a few days later i telling another pardner how appalled i am and he bawl, "like them eh know yuh suppose to sprinkle a little peppersauce too, for the burn and to look like blood? steups!"
• and as we hit a theatrical note, please help save our naparima bowl (online petition)- we cyah afford to give up what few performance spaces we have...

walk good.