I don’t blog much, because I rarely stop and smell the proverbial roses, I already know what roses smell like. Besides, I am not gay, a florist (redundant?), or a chick; and with my disgusting cigarette habit I wouldn’t have time to appreciate them.
I would probably enjoy feeling the thorns entrench themselves in my flesh to make me remember what it’s like to feel again. Hollywood has changed me, shocker I know, I was hoping to change this city. I am only one man (albeit I do a few characters).
I am tired of the favors, the fake smiles, fake hugs, and being friends with everyone. I don’t have to be everyone’s friend, they certainly aren’t gonna be mine. In fact I took this to the cyber level, when I decided to stop accepting friend requests from random people on facebook. (I know bold move, right?)
People are so afraid of telling dickheads that they are dickheads, especially in this entertainment industry. I don’t offer unsolicited advice, but if people genuinely want my advice I’ll praise or *offer ways to improve*
I am just sick of people that are afraid of conflict. I am not saying life should be a scene from Oz, but if you are doing something asinine retarded, a good person will break the bullshit aura of decorum and call you out on that.
It happened to me, I went on stage at a bar show a few weeks ago *drunk*, and not a beer too many, but wasted. My set blew, the crowd felt uncomfortable, and I felt worse. I ended my set short because I didn’t forsee a big finish, and I didn’t want to suck any more air out of the room.
Afterwards I was told I was an idiot, I’m funnier than that, I made a stupid choice, and there are a 1000 comics in my position in LA that wanted the spot I was in.
I appreciated the dress-down. It was coming from a good place and it was definitely warranted. I f I didn’t want to hear it, I should have had my shit together.
I didn’t hold my head down, but felt really good I got that ass-chewing, probably just because in mid-chew, he said I was funny.