The Falcon is landing.

In just a few days time, my brother from another mother will be visiting from England.

You cannot possibly comprehend how dangerous this is for the universe.

Pete (aka Ginger Falcon, aka the Former KNOFC, aka the English Leprechaun') is one of the few people on the planet who knows all aspects of me. There has never been any artifice between us, no need to impress. He is one of those rare individuals with whom I felt immediately comfortable, and have remained on a nearly identical wavelength with. I would wager to say Pete is the only man on the planet who knows me as well as my closest female friends do.

But unlike my closest female friends, Pete likes the Sisters of Mercy. Worse still, Pete is into the exact same occult bullshit that I am.

I'm planning to take one day off work during the week - I'm putting in extra hours this week in order to be able to do so - but even if we only have evenings together I anticipate there being far too much booze, many bizarre conversations, terrible movies, and probably some horribly damaging magic that ruins our lives for a few months before making everything way more interesting and fulfilling.

Shawna and I plan to have him on the podcast, and if we get way too fucked up we'll try and summon horrors from the depths one night. Why the fuck not, eh?

"IA! IA! Jesus I'm hammered..."

Stoked.