The Dolly Daily

The 40th came. And it went. Dolly was there. Oh was she ever. With bells on. I was holed up in the nearest La Quinta, spiraling. It was Marlboros for breakfast and saltines for lunch. Hired a few bright up and comers in the Dolly world. Or so I thought. Turns out their resumes were mostly faked....aaaaand they ghosted me. I lost my shit. Started sticking nicotine patches...everywhere. Got into a DV with one of my pet salamanders. I'm not proud of it. Then I get a postcard? It's like they were taunting me. The guy at the front desk said they got the passes, but apparently they "weren't as good" as the other press passes. Huh? Do you know what it took to get those passes? What I had to FUCKING DO TO GET THOSE PASSES???? I'm not proud of it. I couldn't help but think of my old team. Fran. Steve. Where were they tonight? Not signed in to Dolly Daily. That's for sure. Probably writing a memoir about how much they hate me. Mandel out.