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Oh, It’s Not Like I’m Perfect — You Know the Drill By Now…

Hey, all.

Yes, I’m late with today’s post. I know. And I apologize.

And yes, it’s not really 11:15, it’s already fifteen minutes into tomorrow. Again, I’m sorry.

And no, I’m not actually typing very well right now, nor am I going to make a hell of a lot of sense, or attempt to whip up a ‘real’ post tonight. Mea culpa.

And yes, dammit, yes, I’m behind on posting links to my shows — I owe you a (rather pitiful, frankly, and far more impromptu than it should have been) tape of the performance at the All Asia from Sunday night.

(In my defense, I’ve put off posting it because I blanked about thirty seconds into my set. And while I recovered, somewhat, it’s still very spotty, and extremely embarrassing. But I’m still new to this shit. I get a couple of ‘do-overs’, godammit.)

Oh, and speaking of blanking during sets, I did it again tonight at the Emerald Isle… and while I actually thought I picked up the pieces much better this time, neither you nor I nor anyone else will ever see that performance, because I didn’t even have time to come home before rushing straight from work to my show tonight. Which means I didn’t have the camera with me. Or dinner. Or much of anything, including my wits, apparently.

So you see, I’ve not posted today, but it’s not because I don’t love you. I do, with tongues and everything.

(Unless, you know, that would make one of us cringe to think about. Then I just love you, but tonguelessly. Still love, no doubt. Just less tonguing, is all. You understand.)

Anyway, I haven’t managed to put fingers to keys today because I’ve been uber-busy at work lately — damn that comparatively lucrative day job of mine!

(Of course, collecting aluminum cans, or selling my body for sex, would be ‘comparatively‘ more lucrative than this, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain.

Well, collecting cans would be, anyway. You know what the hell I mean. Meh.)

And Wednesdays are the worst — two-hour meeting at nine am, and a one-hour meeting at one. And today, a forty-five minute interview splunged right in the middle, at eleven-thirty. My ‘real’ workday — when I’m supposed to actually accomplish all those fables and legends that I’ve told people I know how to do — started at around three pm today. And, not surprisingly, lasted until the very ass-end of the seven o’clock hour, at which time I was too late to make it home before the eight-thirty Emerald Isle extravaganza.

(Which is too bad — we actually had an audience tonight, and they were pretty cool. Sure, they didn’t number in the double digits in terms of warm bodies or anything, but they were an ‘audience’, nonetheless, and that’s a good thing.

Not quite a ‘crowd’, perhaps — maybe closer to a ‘small gaggle’ — but still, I could feel the love. Especially when I talked about crotches and asses. They dug those parts. Not a ‘high-brow’ group, apparently, which is just the way I likes ’em. Result!)

What can I say, though? I’ve let you folks down, I know. Here I am, already closing in on a half-hour late, and I’m just going to lie to you — right to your monitors — and set the date on this for three-quarters till twelve, yesterday night. Again, I say I’m sorry. It’s a Wednesday thing — there simply aren’t enough hours in the day to remain gainfully employed, suffer through three hours of stifling, mind-wrenching, ‘I wonder if this pen will fit all the way up my nose‘ meetings, do a comedy show, and, on top of all that, give you fine feathery folks the attention you so richly deserve.

(That’s ‘tongued’ or ‘un-tongued’ attention, either way. Wednesdays are just hard for me, you see?)

So, this is about all I can offer you, I’m afraid. I’ve got to hit the sack soon, or I won’t have anything left to entertain you with on Thursday, either. Not that I’m promising that I will be witty and clever if I get my beauty sleep — or ‘sexy snoozies‘, as I like to call ’em — but I can pretty well guarantee that I won’t have anything worth posting if I don’t get the hell to bed soon. Yes, it’s kind of a crapshoot, folks, but that’s the only kind of ‘shoot’ I can offer at this time. I hope you’ll forgive me.

Anyway, there is a bit of news around here, in case you haven’t noticed yet — thanks to the good folks at HaloScan, I’ve now got ‘Trackback’ capabilities. So, if you see a post here you like, feel free to link ‘er up! I’m still working out how these newfangled doohickeys operate myself, but it’s very exciting news, let me assure you. Pretty soon, I’ll have no reason to move away from Blog*Spot, and that’s just one more thing I can cross off my list of ‘Dreams I’ve Finally Given Up On‘.

(You know, like ‘Winning the Indy 500‘, or ‘Owning my own brewery‘. Or ‘Rubbing canola oil onto Tawny Kitaen’s naked body‘.

Ironic, isn’t it, about that last one? For ten years or more, it was unattainable because there’s no way in hell she’d have let me. Now, she’d probably like nothing better than a good slickering up… but holy hell, what the hell happened to her? Did you see that mugshot of hers from a while back? Somebody thwacked that girl with the ugly lamppost or something. How’d you like that writhing and rubbing on the hood of your car? Eep.)

Okay, I’m just getting silly now. I think it’s my bedtime. (Hey, it’s almost eleven thirty! *snicker*) But seriously, I’m off to bed before this goes too far down the tubes. I promise I’ll be better — and earlier — tomorrow. In the meantime, you have a good night, and don’t be afraid to play with those trackbacks, all right? It’s okay — there’s no need to be shy; nobody’s watching but me. We can explore together. And we only have to use tongues if you want to, okay?

All righty, it’s a deal, then. I’ll see you tomorrow. Nighty night!