Ah, the glamourous life of a skit comedian. It's Saturday night and I'm finishing up some one month overdue paperwork for a job I don't have anymore. I should be in SF promoting.
I'm in a strange mood. I just read Disco Blood Bath and I'm actually pining for the days of reckless abandon. I like the stage of my life I'm at, and I don't want to go back, but I suppose it's okay to miss the past, like missing an old friend.
God, I had so much energy back then. People think I have a-lot now, but my GOD I could just run non-stop in my teens and twentys. I get more done now. I'm just so damn efficient.
I'm listening to Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, and also to The Birthday Party, Nick Cave's first band.
My new job's working out. I like working with Allen (Gallery Horse Cow). And it feels good to FINALLY be done with my old job. My new job won't follow me home. Much less pressure. It's less career oriented too, but I don't need a career. Comedy's a career. And it feels like it's going somewhere. It's moving. We just have to keep it moving. So far so good. We keep topping ourselves, but damn it's a long climb.
I think after these next THREE WEEKENDS of shows we should all sit down again and talk about what's on top of that hill.

I watched Triplets of Belleville at The Crest and I highly reccommend it. I also just watched a bunch of Buster Keaton, and a documentary on the Marx Brothers that I cried most of the way through. I always cry when I watch the Marx Brothers and I have NO idea why. Hmmm.