Thursday, October 27, 2016

Why do all my friends named Jared insist on using their middle names, too?

When I wake up to a notification of someone pointing out that Hillary defends womanizers so they are voting for Trump.

The fuck? I can't even with some people anymore.

I have stupid friends.

I have a lot of comedian friends who have become rather successful. I have never been the type to be anything but proud and excited for them.

Until 0200 this morning when I woke from a dream about Jerrod Carmichael.

I have only ever met him a small handful of times. We auditioned at the Ice House together, then did the subsequent show together after we passed our auditions. We did one other show at the Ice House and ran into each other around town. We were professional acquaintances I would say.

That said, he was a really fucking nice kid and hella funny.

So, when his stock started to soar I was truly happy for him. When his sitcom hit the airwaves, I was especially geeked.

This brings us to 0200. I had a dream that Jerrod and I were in a fight over the couch on his sitcom. I wanted it as payment for appearing on the show. Because I am a dumb Mexican, that's why.

Anyway, I woke up from the dream actually mad at this guy I barely know and as I am drifting in and out of sleep for the next hour I get madder. Not because of the stupid couch, but because I didn't also end up the successful comedian with a sitcom and whatever.

Now, that is not anyone else's fault, but mine. I can point directly to all the moments I shot myself in the foot.

But for about an hour I laid there in and out of sleep whining to myself like a little bitch about things I had every bit of control over. And poor Jerrod was the foil in my mind.

Anyway, after about an hour of this shit I turned on my phone and read some David Thorne and realized Jerrod is fucking alright and my brain is an asshole.

Anyway, I am going to see Frank Turner tonight.

Titty sprinkles!

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