Reorganized the humor section
This heat has taken my zest of life and put it in a humidifier. Imagine a thick yellowish fizzling liquid that I’m slowly and stickily breathing in… you’re welcome. The good news is food items are softer and I can warm a soup or have a sauna/soup party in my bedroom with soft humidifying chocolate bars.
Lets ignore the facts of life and appreciate this bed in a cage as contemporary art on display for all to see in downtown San Diego, oh yeah, some people are homeless owell
My relationship with my bed is that it was seized by a spider last night. I was sitting cross-legged when it parachuted down with such confidence that I now proceed with caution within 5 feet of my bed at all times. I slept on the couch last night, which turned into a good thing b/c I got to hear the morning news. But I got yelled at by my parents which upset my calm relaxed state. There is no safe place for me now.
Hats off to whoever is responsible for the ensemble of Patton Oswalt heads at the Mission Hills Gelato Vero.
Kellen and I may or may not have written a little play about a magical yogi doughnut seller, a fatefully unfunny stand-up comic, Babs, the editor-in-chief of FABS magazine, and Iner, her subordinate photographer who’s vengeance is Russian mail order brides.
Brought to you by the delirium of 4am.
What I saw onstage tonight was future exaggerated caricatures of what Kellen and I could become: Old ladies living in West Hollywood with notepads, mantras, and guns.
What I learned:
I like watching plays more when Ive had a hand in writing them. (narcissism)
Actors have trouble memorizing the phrases “Jelly roll Jinx,” “Black Magic Bear Claw,” and “One of his hobbies is adultery.”
Your play is always better if the guy directing it owns a vaudeville and candy shop in North Park.
Maybe if I get a tattoo of a compass rose, I will finally have mental recall of north south east and west! I have always had really bad directional etiquette. It’s been a lingering problem for me since grade school. No matter how many times I look at/study a compass rose, I still cannot for the life of me retrieve directions from the web. (inside my head.)
But the time has come! I am determined to learn my directions for good! Every night before I go to sleep, I’m going to say my directions! When someone at work needs to know where to find greeting cards, my answer will be “In the Northeastern wing of the store monsieur!” When a homeless woman asks which direction to the Salvation Army, instead of, “To your right, just follow the wind,” I’ll say, “Let me point you in the direction of six blocks east madame!” This may save lives, or just boost my self esteem, but by all euphemisms for holy ghosts, it’s worth a try!
(Plus, I’ll add french words to the end of every sentence to make them seem more legit/worldly/or if I’m actually speaking to a french person.)
The GYM godammittttttttt
I don’t just eat doughy things. I go to gym, then eat doughy things.
Glad that’s clarified.
To be specific: The elliptical and chest weights.
It’s usually just me and two old guys.
There are so many levels to a composition of something that one may be satisfied by a certain mediocre place, never knowing there’s something better if they should try.
But that only happens to me when I stay up till 1am thinking about the stuff I do. I don’t think it’s really worth it to everyone to spend so much time perfecting something that maybe won’t last or isn’t a necessity to life.
On another note, I look like a platypus on the elliptical.