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Dear Tarali,
It is 3 AM here in New Orleans. I finished up yet another fucking Vampire Tour, my throat is parched, my nerves on edge and instead of a 7-up-wine concoction I opted for Crunk Juice tonight. It is late and today's tour group made me nervous. One of them arrived with a bird on his shoulder but not a parrot, a finch. This is a sign. Another was shaking in fear before the tour even began...he had our Vampire book...lord knows, he may have been the nut that actually ordered one on line last month. There was a guy that looked really familiar, like a game show host type, but I am having a hard time placing it...
Anyway, the sounds of Bourbon street rattle in the distance and my thoughts are drawn to you. I am writing as I am eager to hear how your recovery from the operation is coming along. My side is still a bit raw from the transplant and the fact that we have to live separately for a period of time compounds my angst.
The James Brown Voice guy is yelling about magic outside my window. Or maybe it is a ghost...ha ha.
More in a bit Tarali. Suffice it to say this place is not the same without you.
With wary trepidation and love,
Kendall "Vamp Pusher"
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