Today’s soundtrack: The spotlight's hitting something that's been known to change the weather
Today at 9:42pm: Staring at sixty pairs of eyes staring at me.



The reading was, not quite a disaster, but it didn’t go well. I was the first guy to go up after the MC and after I read my first few sentences, unbeknownst to me, the mic started dropping out. Which means by the time I got to the end of the story I had a couple people near the front of the stage nodding, and the rest of the room just kind of blinking at me.

People started talking in the middle of my piece, which is never a good sign. Well, whaddaya gonna do.

I think we all know the true key to success is to just lock yourself in the bathroom even though there are other people waiting and point at yourself in the mirror and say “Stop crying--stop crying, Nancyboy” and slap yourself a couple times and then go out to that bar by Central Booking and have one drink too many and pick, then lose, a horrific fight with recently released bikers. I mean we’ve all been there, right?

You win some, you lose some. Unless there are recently released bikers involved, in which case you pretty much always lose. Brass knuckles vs. scrawny writer’s rage, you do the math.



The AAWW is having a “Recollections” event this coming Saturday and I think I will go. I will either read the same piece I did at the Wong thing, to see if it has any merit when actually read aloud, or I will write something new--and this time, rather than write from the heart I will write it from the liver or maybe the pancreas. The pancreas sounds good.

I don’t even know what the pancreas does. It just sounds like something you make fun of a person for being born without.

Yyyyyyyyeah. Doing well. Really, really well. I’m hot this month.

Hot like a tamale fart.