Muy better

Thank goddess things went well--at least better--at last night's show. People laughed. People understood. Ah, The Comedy makes sense again!

And I got to see my friend Jennifer slay the people of West Hartford. People were laughing with such abandon, it made my heart glad. Even saw the waitress wipe tears from her eyes from the laughter--how wonderful is that?

You did your comic duty, Ms. Myszkowski.

Me, I did okay--I had a brownout in the middle of what I thought was going to be a 20-minute set, and had to refer to my notes, which somehow shortened the whole thing to 15 minutes. Whazzit?

I think I'm under duress this week, and am not entirely sure why. For one thing, Jennifer noticed I had cursed--twice--in her presence this week, which is rather a lot for me. The list of usual suspects: Is it the job/financial worry (spiked by a client forgetting to submit two--not just one, but two--of my invoices), is it the long-past-missed deadline (for said client--call me passive, call me aggressive, I just don't care), is it Butler's poor increasingly-misshapen face (the cancer is really starting to show in the poor codger), is it the return of my formerly monthly exercise in futility?

Anything is possible in this best of all possible worlds.

And what of the comic--a seasoned professional with no small sense of his place in the world--who turned out to be a Republican? Not that there's anything wrong with that--no, wait a minute, there is a LOT wrong with that--but how does this happen?

Oh yeah, that's right: He was a Democrat until Clinton started getting blowjobs. He said this with a straight face (what else?).

Not because he agrees with Bush--in fact, he says he doesn't agree with most of what he does.

ARRRRRRRGH! When did sexual conduct become the PRIMARY indicator of fitness for office? And how is consensual sex with an adult more of a breach of the public trust than sending men and women to their death/dismemberment for COOKED-UP reasons?

I don't friggin' get it! (Oh, there I go again.) Am beginning to think there's some deeply rooted jealousy at work here--was it Clinton was only doing what a lot of married men wish they could do, and they resented the hell out of him because of it? And, as is often the case, this resentment turned into sanctimony--think the sanctimony of the unpopular girl or boy "tsk! tsk-ing" the behavior of their more popular peers after the school prom sanctimony.

That would sure explain Dennis Miller. If anyone seethes sexual frustration with a dash of bitterness, it's Dennis Miller. What a wretch!

That's today's theory--nothing else works right now.

Must finish up my overdue work and get cleaning--also waaaaaay overdue. The house is coated with fur, and as I am the cleaning lady, it is my job to remove it.

Watch that green-eyed monster, now.