I’m still writing, of course. You’d think one kind would naturally dovetail into the other, and if you were me, you would be wrong. I present this as the sort of waste of time I engage in: a fake song (that will most likely never be put to music) about a fake couple (who will mostly likely implode) for a fake band (that isn’t as good as I want them to be) in a story (that has a .01% chance of ever being published). I think I write almost twice as much material about the story as I do in … There’s more of this shit. Click here.
Note: I’m pretty much making this an annual thing. If we’re going to assaulted with pinks and hearts and unicorns and wuggley-buggley-booszhy-booo! Sorry. Anyway, if St. Valentines Day keeps rolling around just as gaudy every year, I see no reason why I shouldn’t rebut just as repetitively. So, here it is, for those who find the whole thing tacky and banal; my sledge-fisted love letter to the incorporeal entity that inhabits many a person out there, filling their hate-bladder to bursting on this, February 14:
Ah, St. Valentine’s Day. Notice the “St.” part. That means there was … There’s more of this shit. Click here.
It’s quarter to four in the morning, and my body has tipped over the insomnia waterfall, ready to plunge into the weird, waking world of the sleep deprived.
Noelle took the brunt of the day shift, so it was left to me to see Gabe off to sleep. After the meningitis scare, we are extra twitchy about his every ache and sniffle. We try not to let it show. But when I ran out to collect Gabe from school Wednesday afternoon, his stomach was painful and sour, and his head ached. This is how it began last … There’s more of this shit. Click here.
Got another form rejection letter today.
It’s a good thing I’m a comic; rejection is like my oldest friend. In comedy, rejection is visceral and immediate. It come in the form of silence, or uncomfortable huh-huh-ing, or a gasp (usually when your over-the-top joke gets taken a little too seriously – one of the pitfalls of being so good at the deadpan). Sometimes, you’ll get that sweet, stinging slap of a boo. That always makes me smile. Not to sound too full of myself, but the ‘boo’ doesn’t happen to me very often. When I get one, … There’s more of this shit. Click here.
Failure is indeed an option. In fact, it’s a pretty popular one.