The Day I Lost Two Hours
For future reference, I do not suggest traveling on the "Spring Forward" Daylight Savings Time day. On this past Saturday (April 2nd) I awoke in my apartment in Chicago. It was 9 AM Central Time. I rolled over to see the dame I'd picked up the night before still fast asleep. I rustled my short hair and lit a cigarette. "Why don't dames ever leave in the middle of the night?" I thought. I blew a thin stream of smoke which meandered her way. "I suppose you're gonna want breakfast" I said. "Good morning" said she. "I don't see what's so good about it, doll face. You're still here, after all." There was a short pause. "There's some eggs in the fridge. Grab one and get the hell out."
None of that last part is true. That morning I did, in fact, wake up to a visitor in my apartment: a Mr. Jimmy Shy. He had surprised me the day before, seen my show, and was going to head to Albion for the workshops on Saturday as well. Right now I'm assuming you want to hear what I thought or who I saw or something else that actually transpired... but I'm not really feeling like it. I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's wrong with me... but I'm not feeling much like writing. I feel tired, actually... and I miss my parents. It was so nice to see them again. When I drove from Albion to BR, I was on complete auto-pilot. I probably could have made the drive in my sleep... even though it was the first time since I graduated that I made that trip (yeah... that's almost two full years ago now).
While I was home, I watched the NCAA Championship game with my dad. Yeah we were rooting pretty hardcore for Illinois. I hope Billy Packer brought his chap-stick to the game because he was kissing Sean May's ass all game long. "Oh, look at that shot. That's amazing from the big man!" Why must every commentator pick out someone to praise for the entire game, regardless of how well that particular player is doing? Just watch the freakin game! I'm done with that...
This morning, Randi sent me this link. It brought me back to my days of smut novel readings. I think I'd really like to write a smut novel satire... I think that would be a lot of fun. BTW "For the Love of Scottie McMullet" is my favorite cover.
Here's an article entitled Picking on Einstein that I thought was interesting.
In terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad news... I just read that Comedian Mitch Hedberg died of a heart attack at age 37. If you haven't ever heard any of his stuff, do yourself a favor and check it out. He was very unorthodox, but it was very welcome.