The Master of the Universe

So I met the master of the universe this weekend.

He was much shorter than I’d imagined. He was wearing a baseball cap and Birkenstocks. Cute guy. Talented with his mouth, too. In fact, he spent much more time on his knees than I expected of a deity.

I didn’t bring him home, partly because he was drunk, partly because I was afraid to have such a celebrity in my home, and partly because he wouldn’t offer any name other than “master of the universe”.

I think he was actually starting to believe it. One more beer and I might have too.

Five days until I hit the road. There’s an expanded itinerary with pictures now. Some of the pix may be a little old…