2003-07-09 - 11:15 p.m.
"Art is only achieved through perspiration."
-Boris Kolenkhov, You Can't Take It With You
Me- You know what the biggest lie I've ever told anyone is?
Anne- I love you?
That one hurt.
Me- They don't make outfits for Ken dolls that don't make him look like a raging homosexual- the Concert Date Ken wears a scarf and a pair of binoculars wtih his 'NSync tickets.
Ken Hill- I can see you wearing that.
That one cut pretty good, too. Suppose that's what I get for grooving when Poison came on the radio.
Suprisingly, tonight was free of opening night jitters.
Not suprisingly, tonight is NOT free of opening night 40's and cigarettes. Your first show only happens once, you know.
Show went off with a big hitch, but me and the dude playing Grandpa covered smooth like butter. I was really working my mojo tonight.
You know you did a good job when you're tired but so wired you can't sleep anyway. I suppose that's true about a lot of things.
Does it make me supremely weird that I actually find I like the way Mickey's tastes?
I got to eat lunch with George this weekend. That was really cool. George rules. he's one of those people I didn't really realize that I really missed until we discussed how long it had been since the last time we had seen each other and realized that it was over two years. George's influence was always a positively negative one. It was great how he could be more degenerate than I am, yet at the same time, he's one of the few people I've ever know who could bust my ass when was being retarded, and still do so in such a way that I would actually listen to him and realize he was probably right. Most of the time, people who disagree with me are just wrong, it's as simple as that.
We have three douches working the shop right now who we have renamed according to their abilities- they are Ricky Retardo, Retardo Montoblan, and Retardos Santana. The last one is a bit of a stretch, and the only one of the three that was my idea, but it's moderately clever.
Yeah, and I'm only moderately pathetic right now. Still, I'm not as bad as I was this weekend, when I got unbelievably drunk and ranted and raved about how much everything sucks. Or, to put it like Kolenkhov- IT STEEEEENNNKS!!!!
Brad- You can meet the other Brad, just go down the hall.
Me- I don't wanna meet him. I already don't like most of the people I know. Why would I want to meet someone else?
That one tickled Joe for some reason. But that could have been something he ingested.
John- Yeah, yeah, I get it- Ken is the funny one.
Travis- Yeah, basically.
Me- But the only people who really laugh at me are women, and then only when I drop my pants.
HA HA!!! I am in fact the last great bastion of bluster and small penis humor. I tell you what, I love that phrase. I hate whoever wrote it (you know, I'm still trying to narrow that down- it's the word bluster that trips me up. The phrasing sounds like one or two of you fuckers tend to write, but the use of the word bluster makes it sound too educated for the retards who tend to read this thing. Unless one of you speds took my advice and actually read a fucking book or something) but at the same time, I find that it's actually the perfect phrase to describe me. In fact, if I ever have an autobiography/biography published, I've decided it's going to be titled, "Bluster and Small Penis Jokes: The Life Story of Ken Dillon"
It'd be about twenty pages long, including the pages of full color photos of my bloody head.
Fuck.
ken
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