Small Fish

Hey there ‘Redheads… I hope you all had a much more eventful weekend than I did. My weekend was tabula rasa. Whole lotta nothin’…which, especially on a weekend that was congested with comedy, thanks in part to the DC Comedy Fest, is inexcusable. So what, you ask, will I be filling this space with? Kudos, gentle reader. Kudos.

I’d like to devote a portion of this blog to wish a hearty congratulations and a fond farewell to soon-to-be superstar, Ryan Conner. Ryan has cut down the nets in the DC bracket and is off to New York to live the dream that every other comic chases. He took an opportunity in the infancy of his career, not seen since the mother of the Olsen twins sent their sonogram to Central Casting, and has made the most of it. He’s in with some of the biggest clubs in NY and is being courted by management agencies. Am I jealous? You bet your sweet bippy I am, but he’s a great example of the perfect storm that’s created when talent and hustle meets opportunity. I’m a better example of what happens when delusion and sloth meet a Law & Order: Criminal Intent marathon on Bravo. I’ve been waiting for someone in the DC area to hit, so I can latch onto their coattails and water ski to a cush life as a member of their entourage. A man can dream… In the meantime, I’ll hope for a bit part in his first cinematic vehicle, Flip Sorenson: Samurai Mechanic. Seriously, knock ’em dead Ryan.

What of us back in the real world? Well, once again, gas prices are higher than Courtney Love at the Comedy Central Roast of Pamela Anderson. These oil companies are seeing profits that make Scrooge McDuck’s pool of gold look like my ashtray of rusty spare change.

Hmmm…this should be enough for a tank of premium.

I paid $45 for a tank of gas today. I’m pretty sure I’d pay less if my car ran on black market babies. They need to get the nation’s scientists working on another viable fuel source. That, or make a better tasting gasoline, so siphoning doesn’t burn so bad. Priorities, people.

Switching the subject back to fame (like I said…priorities), and how best to pick at least 15 minutes of it from a low-hanging branch, the internet has provided the Mexican day laborers to get it done (that metaphor is mixed and stretchy). I was hoping to have big news for you about a video project that I’m collaborating on with some of DC’s top comics. Unfortunately, getting all of us together at the same time is alot like getting a cow down a flight of stairs. The shoot has been pushed about as far back as it can go, based on the time sensitivity of the subject matter. This will either win a YouTube Oscar (a Tuby), or it’ll be a bigger waste of film than the alternate ending of Titanic. I’ll keep you posted.

To be continued…

One thought on “Small Fish

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