Anyone else remember how sweet Gabrielle was? She IS NOT afraid of Tracy Chapman.
- conor holler
Um, ok. So Craig and I returned to The Exploding Sandwich podcast a couple of days ago to tell some jokes, do a couple quizes, and slug back 9% Le Fin du Monde.
LISTEN
I bought a pack of cigarettes today. The worst part: I don’t even smoke. I’m just an idiot in flavor country — terrible, terrible flavor country.
I’m about 3 minutes/one blog post away from heading up the street to do a comedy show. I’ve just shaved my face, which is rare for me. I’ve left myself a mustache because: A) I like the way it looks B) it is usually more presentable than a beard and C) I have decided that some kind of facial hair is a necessary part of my adulthood.
Tonight I’m probably going to joke about my mustache, but my heart won’t be in it; my mustache is deadly serious.
Anyone that doesn’t get jacked when a red-hot techno song gets pumped is retarded. Listening to techno makes you stronger, able to drive better, and allows you to take inhuman amounts of ecstasy. I mean, let’s face it: no one ever popped a pill and went to a Springsteen concert.
A couple of nights ago I projected the itunes visualization onto my entire north wall. It was sweet. I saw people on the street looking up into my apartment, wowed by the pulsing tunes and fantastic light show I was putting on. Pretty soon there was a line-up of people waiting outside, listening and dancing to my powerful house jams; they truly were Prisoners of the Beat.
Tonight, I’m having another street party. I might even jack in my strobe light. Chris Shepard is coming by with Love Inc. and we’re just gonna fuckin’ dance.
Having people hang out in my new apartment is a strange experience. Because it’s only one room, and the only major piece of furniture I own right now is the bed, it’s a lot like hanging out in a high school bedroom.
I don’t have any posters of the terminator on the wall (yet), but forcing people to sit on my bed is uncomfortable and it reminds me of playing Warcraft and listening to Limp Bizkit. Plus, unless you are weird and own a sex swing, nothing in your home is sexier than the bed. I shouldn’t be forcing people to sit on something that’s only purpose is to help me have gross dreams and occasionally be nude upon; people shouldn’t have to choose between that and the floor — it’s just wrong.
Tonight I’m going to my parent’s house for Easter Dinner and I’m totally going to steal some chairs.
So I’ve been busy. As a result I have been neglecting my blog. I’m sorry.
I don’t have a lot of news, but there has been some exciting developments in my living situation. I have some furniture now — a bed AND a table. So things are looking up.
Also when I got locked out of my apartment on the very first day, I met a fight coordinator that taught me some light grappling techniques. He also helped me get back into the building. I’m thinking about buying him a UFC style octagon for his apartment.
