Fuck you, V-Dawg!
The repellent producer of Goldking Studios' GhostRose arrived on the doorstep of my Provincetown rental last night with a peace offering. I had just finished a telephone screaming match with a lesser priest at Her Purity Cathedral, trying unsuccessfully to secure the church for the gay wedding-event of the year. Unfortunately the lisping clergyman was not open to the idea, regardless of President Obama's Marriage Equality Act.
So when sweaty V-Dawg appeared at my door, wheezing after climbing six flights of stairs, I initially bristled but ultimately didn't care what he wanted.
"What?"
