Friday, May 15, 2015

Lucille is in mourning and in need of a hug

I don't know what is smarmier, Robin Thicke's music, or Alan Thicke getting his dick wet while listening to it. Either way, I am choking down vomit.

I am reminded of that Bill Hicks bit only now it's updated to lament the passing of BB while we're stuck with shitheads like Alan's kid and creatures like that Minaj broad (seriously, what the actual fuck is a Nicki Minaj?).

Yesterday I was on a Tom Waits kick. Then he showed up on Letterman. Don't tell me how it ends, it's on my DVR and I haven't watched yet!

I have a metric shit ton of work to finish up today. Yes, beyond my brilliant writing and comedy sets, I do some freelancing to pay for the drugs. Today I launch some social media pages for an upcoming website launch. If you like purty jewels and cute stuffed things, be on the look out.

All this time spent surrounded by creative people has me salivating to get back on the road. But I don't want to go with just anyone. And I don't want to be on the road for months and months at a time - I rather enjoy spending time with my wife. The challenge is going to be balancing time on the road with time at home. I'm thinking about somehow incorporating my guitar into the act. I always wanted to cover Steve Martin's Grandmother's Song. But then I think I need to save that song for the right time.

I have it in my head that on the day Steve Martin finally dies I am going to close out my show with a stirring rendition of that song as a tribute to him. I'd tell the story about how Born Standing Up was the catalyst that moved me from my couch to the stage, get a little choked up and have the crowd near tears before finally strumming my guitar and bringing down the house and getting a rousing standing-ovation.

I spend way too much time in my own head.

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