In which I drunkenly promote my friends’ awesomeness

Y’all, check out my man Fritz, burning up the interwebs with his dating advice from circus performers. Effing awesome and hilarious and at least one of those questions floating out there was plucked more or less from my own life (I’ll let you guess which one).

I would also dote on another friend of mine who recently — by permission of an unusually amiable and serendipity-friendly Universe — got [some musician we adore] and her boyfriend to read one of her short stories and agree that the story was awesome and hilarious (duh) but I won’t link her or mention her by name because she’s modest and afraid of looking like a dork. I, however, have no such reservations, and will only delete this mention when she phones me in a few hours and tells me to. Or calls me something akin to “fuzzy bunny.” But only if she promises to have her boyfriend call me later and do impersonations of Marge Simpson again. Because that was all kinds of awesome the first time around.

I love you guys. Shit.