Getting back to my car from Mr. Petticord's shack was a pain in the ass. It also isn't interesting, so I won't talk about it. I wonder if hitchhiking was ever a real thing or just in movies.
A guy backstage at the show last night was talking to his buddy about how there are no 'good' serial killers anymore. According to him the 70's was the golden age of serial killers. I asked him if he knew about the guy from the professor's book. He didn't but he did follow me around and bother me the rest of the night because he thought I was into serial killers too.
Since I was out of touch for a while, I spent a lot of time on my phone trying to get back into the swing of things with my bookings. Since I canceled three shows, someone online had started the rumor that I had given up the biz. It seems like no one knows who I am unless it's because they're fucking up my program.
I was able to get things lined up so that I will officially going to join the hallowed ranks of bare-knuckle boxers. I was concerned that I might be too heavy because when I looked online there seemed to be only one weight class for women. It turns out they're not real strict about rules in the world of third-rate promotions for a sport that is already super sketchy.
I'm going to fight a Trinidadian woman named Jacqueline Gutiérrez in Biloxi, Mississippi. To get the contract signed I was talking to a guy who apologized a bunch of times because he wasn't allowed to give me a cut of the DVD sales.
Hilarious. Who buys DVDs? Especially DVDs of what is essentially one step above a YouTube video of a street fight? No offense, US Bare Knuckle Association guy.
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