Greetings and salutations, my precious heathen sluts!

As you have undoubtedly noticed, there’s been quite a bit of silence from the Lake Nipples Substackmatic Universe over the past three months, and a lot of vague allusions to “some crazy-ass shit” going down in my personal life. I’ve gotten concerned emails and DMs from quite a number of you, cannot begin to express my gratitude for every single note—of all the heathen sluts in the world, you guys are the heathen sluttiest. And since you’re a filthy, filthy family to me, I feel I owe you an explanation.

At the beginning of April, I asked my husband of 17 years for a divorce. On June 30th, I—along with our two children and four cats—finally moved out. The past three months have been emotionally excruciating, and very bad for writing top-notch, serialized, food-centric pornography. But they’re behind me, and I survived! (Mostly!) And now, most certainly, there shall be nothing but blue skies ahead! (Right?)

For those of you who have supported my career from the pre-porn days, I can understand this news might come as a shock. Matt and I were more than spouses—we were creative collaborators, a good time at parties, and best friends. He was somebody I wrote about a lot, because I loved him a lot. And we had a great run! If a Broadway show ran for 17 years, it would be considered a smashing success. I feel the same about our marriage, and though divorce is always sad, I’m very much at peace with the fact ours is over.

Matt and I made a lot of unhinged, delicious magic happen together, and even more wonderful than that, we made two boys who are growing up to be spectacular men. We grew, too, into different people who want different things. We’re moving onto our next acts. It’s nobody’s fault. I’m lucky to have been his wife.

As for Lake Nipples, it’s sordid story shall be back next week! I’ve been writing the next chapter for the past six weeks at a rate of one sentence a day. I’ve got a over a year of story sketched out and there’s no way I’m not telling it. I can’t be the only person who has to live with this shit lodged in their brain. I’ll never survive it.

Now, if you’re getting ready to comment “I’m so sorry — please let me know if there’s anything I can do,” then I’ve got great news for you! There is something you can do, and that’s sharing this serialized, erotic, and titillating Substack soap opera with your friends and parents. I’m a single mom now, so if you don’t at the very least forward a banging chapter to someone who needs to to have their day ruined, you should absolutely feel bad about yourself.

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You could also give the gift of hardcore ham porn to someone you love, and give me the gift of cold hard cash. I work hard on this nonsense, and getting paid for that work helps me do things like buy food for my sad, starving children, whose parents are divorcing, and are ever so hungry.

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Finally, if you’d like to support my work and the less fortunate, you can donate a subscription to the needy, who are desperate for erotic sandwiches.

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Thank you all so much for bearing with me as I’ve been sorting all this out. We’ll all be splashing around Lake Nipples together again soon enough. I promise.

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