Sometimes You've Gotta Rock Iowa. Iowa Needs to Rock.

I'm on a quest for spiritual enlightenment.  Specifically, I'm out to find myself.

Oops.  I just did.

This weekend, the Murder Mystery Company sent me to Burlington, Iowa to do a show in a Howard Johnson's.  There was dancing afterward, a casino next door, and a severe lack of bedbugs.  It was miserable.

One good thing came out of the weekend.  I've discovered my alter ego.  His name is Poison, and he's a rock star from 1984 who speaks with a somewhere-from-the-British-Territories accent.  He looks like this:

Isn't he hot?  You wouldn't believe how many women think he's actually eighteen and British.  And somewhere under those pants and that faux leather jacket are some tats and a pair of tube socks.  Draw your own conclusions, and don't expect to be disappointed. 

Also, know that I love Poison as much as you do.  He's sincere, artistic, emotional, accomplished, occasionally childish, hits liberally on women, and sings.  Have I found myself  by hiding myself?  Stranger things have happened.

Stranger things have happened, indeed.*

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* Oh.  Now I see the tube socks.**

** Hey, this entry didn't mention my book even once!