The New Jerusalem

I'm feeling unrewarded in comedy. Not unrewarded by the process, I love my audiences. They are like my CHILDREN. mainly because they don't have microphones and thus aren't allowed to talk back to me. I appear to be at a magical point where i can't figure out whether my failure to see results is the product of some unseen inadequacy in my art, or whether i've simply reached the point where it's more convenient for people to not recognize i exist, because... you know...

I'm a flavor.

I'm a kind.

and not one of those COOL kinds that stereotypically have big dicks and are good at basketball that white guys WOULD want to be friends with. Nah, i'm one of the OTHER kinds. Possibly the worstest kind. I put balls in my mouth.

not that often. I consider the balls to be "support staff". They're downstairs. I don't want to see them.

My mom tells me that my telling her i'm a homo is like if the dog started walking backwards. she just doesn't know how to deal with it. Well, i feel like I don't have the time to deal with her or anyone else's confusion or disapproval. I'm dying just as quickly as all of you, I have to get my stuff done and i don't need people with screwed up preconceptions getting in the way.