There’s Gonna Be a Party When the Wolf Comes Home

I love this hat. It wanted to take a photo with it before I went in for surgery. There’s a song on heavy rotation in my house: “Up the Wolves” by The Mountain Goats. It’s a rebellious, fun, ballsy song that reminds me of death. It’s become my death song, it’s meant to be my dogs’ death song. It will be my next tattoo.

Feeling a bit nervous about my surgery. I’m sure it will be fine, but I keep thinking about these people who go in for lipo and wake up dead. I’m not afraid to die; I believe in reincarnation and I know I’ll live on somewhere, in some body. If I’m lucky, as an animal (I believe they’re high life forms). But what the fuck; I could come back as a ┬ástink bug for all I know.

Anyway, I’m being a little melodramatic, but there are only a few days left before I go under the knife, and I wanted to get a good picture with my wolf hat. It fits my head well. It fits me very well.

woman wearing a wolf hat with wings behind her

woman wearing a wolf hat with wings behind her

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