Miss Her, Kiss Her, Love Her
I once was whole. Solid. Pristene. Noble, strong. Elegance glistened from my countenance like glitter on a stripper. If I was a rock formation, I'd be Gibraltar.
But all that has changed. I am transformed. What once was considered unscathed and unaltered has now been tinkered, contaminated, and altogether deteriorated. My soul has regressed from a Gibraltar-like status to that of the Grand Canyon. From world-wide natural wonder to a tourist attraction. From a shining example of God's power to the place where Bobby and Cindy Brady once got lost.
I was happy, sincere, full of dreams and other positive hallucinations. But then SHE came into my life... Like the Colorado River. Emotionally eroding everything that I thought was real. She altered my perception with one twist and turn of her rapidly moving waters.
Her name? That's not important. What is important is that I'll never get what I once had, back. She's taken that away. She's made her mark.. And I have the postcard to prove it
Her name? Still not important. That's not why I wrote this blog. I wrote to express. I wrote to confess. I wrote to digress from all the ridiculous monotony that this blog has crumbled itself into.
Her name? Will you quit asking me? What? Do you wanna hook up with her? Back off. Quit being so nosy. I told you it's not important. Look, I shouldn't have even said anything. Next time I'll just keep it to my own brain blog. The one that never gets uploaded for public consumption. Thanks alot. I'm trying to make a point and this whole time you're just trying to get into her panties. Look, I thought you'd listen and instead you're hung up on her name. Fine. I'll give it to you
Stand-up Comedy
Don't ever get involved with her. She's poison. Poison. Poison. Poison. P-P-P-P-P Poison.
But all that has changed. I am transformed. What once was considered unscathed and unaltered has now been tinkered, contaminated, and altogether deteriorated. My soul has regressed from a Gibraltar-like status to that of the Grand Canyon. From world-wide natural wonder to a tourist attraction. From a shining example of God's power to the place where Bobby and Cindy Brady once got lost.
I was happy, sincere, full of dreams and other positive hallucinations. But then SHE came into my life... Like the Colorado River. Emotionally eroding everything that I thought was real. She altered my perception with one twist and turn of her rapidly moving waters.
Her name? That's not important. What is important is that I'll never get what I once had, back. She's taken that away. She's made her mark.. And I have the postcard to prove it
Her name? Still not important. That's not why I wrote this blog. I wrote to express. I wrote to confess. I wrote to digress from all the ridiculous monotony that this blog has crumbled itself into.
Her name? Will you quit asking me? What? Do you wanna hook up with her? Back off. Quit being so nosy. I told you it's not important. Look, I shouldn't have even said anything. Next time I'll just keep it to my own brain blog. The one that never gets uploaded for public consumption. Thanks alot. I'm trying to make a point and this whole time you're just trying to get into her panties. Look, I thought you'd listen and instead you're hung up on her name. Fine. I'll give it to you
Stand-up Comedy
Don't ever get involved with her. She's poison. Poison. Poison. Poison. P-P-P-P-P Poison.
posted by Paul at 5:39 PM
6 Comments:
She is a femme fatale, my friend. One decent set, and you become entangled in her pernicious web. What is most sinister is that she lurks most anywhere you go- Scooters, WECT, Improv, Backdoor. She even rears her ugly head at Ben's Half Yard House...oh, that bitch!! Put on the TV, there she is with Leno, Conan, Letterman. From the top of the entertainment food chain to an open mic in filthy laundromat in Deep Ellum, she's always there waiting to break your soul.
Poison indeed, my friend. Fortunately, I have a pretty high tolerance.
I was thinking the Alice Cooper song would be more appropriate. This bel div devo thing just confuses me. Heartbreak was much cooler in the 80's when I was in a hair band. As for stand-up-comedy, tell that bitch she still owes me money!
I recommend "Solipsist" by Henry Rollins, to look inside the truely clasutrophobic pysche of yourself...
Paul, what on earth happened? Your post sounds like something I'd write, I who've been offstage for more than two months.
it is better to have laffed and lost then never to have....then again you may have saved thousands of closet comedians. we may be better off never comming out of the closet. I better work on those analogies.
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