...The collection of atoms that makes up me has amused the swirl of protons that comprises you...
Atoms and Protons, January 31 2006
I had a hoax, all written and unspellchecked, ready to upload last Tuesday, and then... my monitor died. So the hoax is stuck on my hard drive and I can't get to it unless Tekserve saves the day. Rape, incest, an affair, two abortions... I did it all last week plus I finally confessed to that bank robbery where a lady got shot. Oh well, your loss.
In the past few days, I figured out that if I took my Tylenol PMs at 8PM, I could fall asleep by midnight. So I'm still tired, cranky, ugly and mean, but not to the point where it's debilitating.
Got some roadwork lined up after this little job ends, got a show to pitch to the first network that hired me, and finished my Curb spec! Yeah, ten months and three tv shows after I started it, the Curb is good and it's done, bitches. Bow down!
I think there's always this hope that comedy is going to lead up to a seminal moment, where everyone who underestimated you will fall to their knees and praise your eminence, but it never happens. The most you'll get from anyone is a "great set," as they reach for their car keys and drive back to their lives to pay their bills and beat their children.
The collection of atoms that makes up me has amused the swirl of protons that comprises you. Fingers crossed that it happens again before we both disintegrate in the nothingness from whence we came.
It's possible that the most money I will ever make is not from the one thing I'm half-good at, comedy, but from the sale of the apartment I bought in Harlem with money earned from the other thing I'm half-good at, writing.
