I have cancelled the Glasgow Comedy Festival due to The Man Show shooting schedule but will still be keeping the Charlotte and Peoria dates. Have also added Tommy Rockers for my birthday.
For the second time in three weeks I'm flying over to the UK to do one show and fly right back out, this time to Glasgow to do ten minutes for some BBC show. Since I had to cancel the Glasgow Comedy Festival dates later in the month, I figured I'd squeeze this in. The first class air on Virgin Atlantic helped the decision. These motherfuckers have a regular bar and massages in first class. Heck, I'll do the handjob myself.
Aspen was the same industry hoo-ha it always is but I got to meet Phil Hendrieand he's cool as fuck. Rogan destroyed the place and I missed some final night hijinx but the whole thing was an extended hangover with some snowmobiling worked in.
Mother needs her breast implants taken out ( I think she realizes she doesn't really need them anymore and they're beginning to turn hard and hurt) so buy my shit or send me a large sum of money. Otherwise I'll have to wait until I get a fan that does tit work and wants to trade out.
NOTICE! I had to cancel my upcoming Houston date at the Laff Stop. I'll be going to Aspen with Rogan to promote the Man Show in some fashion. All my other dates are tentative until I know the shooting schedule so make sure to check back before you go running off to the club.
Nothing makes leaving the country suck worse than that last stop coming back through US Customs. Every time I swear I'll never leave again, at least not on a round trip ticket.
13 hours on a plane from the UK and I have the cigarette dangling from my lips, lighter in my shakey hand only to hit the line at customs like it was Saturday night at the Viper Room with whispers that Johnny Depp is inside. Big Velvet Rope. You don't even want in but you have to because all your shit is in there.
After the line you hit the Nazi who small-talks you, looking for signs of weakness. Problem is - if you're not social, if you don't ass-kiss, you get searched. And I really need a cigarette.
27 hours in the air to do one 80 minute show. By the time I got on stage, I hadn't the slightest clue what I was saying. So I just talked until my watch said it was time to leave, drink some beers and get on a plane home. Thanks to those who showed up and tolerated the jet-lag and lack of ambition that I call comedy.
Sorry, I missed the war protests, it could've made for good fun.
"No blood for duct tape!" or some such mockery.
Man, am I tired.
Towns for sale on eBay keep making the news. Lemme know when there's a country for sale. I know a bunch of us who could all kick in and make it a great event.