Imagine if your beloved relative was lying in a hospital bed fading in and out of consciousness and you were trying to desperately squeeze all your questions about your past and family into the precious few lucid moments because when this person dies, there goes all that history and all those memories? Well imagine that instead of a relative, it’s your fucking internet connection that’s about to give up the ghost and every now and then it seems to actually be working and you’re like “wait wait! just give me my email! come back! just tell me the weather forecast! don’t go! I need to google mysel…. hello? NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fight, fight! I’m not ready to live without my internet connection!”

And then again it’s gone. I can’t take this emotional roller coaster.

Thankfully I already talked to the nutsacks at Time Warner though and I explained that I work from home and I’m losing business and they kindly let me know that this is for residential use. Do they think I’m selling rubber stamps online or something?

I shamelessly stole these from Mary Rambin’s blog.

Wendy and I have thrice updated our page so I hope you’re all up in that shit.

Also, tomorrow when I do stand up I’m going to “just have fun with it.”

And then I was thinking, is there really anything in life that you shouldn’t just have fun with?

And then I was thinking that I guess you shouldn’t just have fun with heart surgery.

Although I think the doctors on Grey’s Anatomy just have fun with most of their surgery, but that’s TV and not real life and plus they’re really shitty doctors, I know this because they left a towel in that one woman. Remember?

Oh and by the way now that I’m doing stand up I expect a whole bunch of hackneyed observations to start flowing out of me like, like, what’s a standuppy metaphor? Like herpes out of Paris Hilton, am I right?

I hope you’re as excited about this new turn of events as I am.

Okay then.

Oh, also: earlier I was at the Starbucks inside Barnes and Noble which is doubly offensive to Brooklyn since it’s all mom and pop around here but there I was, lining the coffers of Big Coffee Beans and Books and there was a pastry called something like “Flaky strawberry fruit purse” and I was thinking that it would be funny if it said “with real quarters baked inside.” But it didn’t say that, because it’s a pastry, not a comedian.

I just want to rip my skin off and throw it at the television. Also: what kind of hairspray does she use?

This site—Dear Old Love—is amusing, and it even made me feel some emotion which is kind of unusual these days since I think my heart is tucked away under a thick covering of protective frost. It’s not intentional, it’s not like I’m making sure my whole chest cavity is kept refrigerated lest I feel something, it’s more like it’s tough for me to feel certain things right now (“right now” being for about three years). This is after a lifetime of feeling too much and everything though, so maybe I’m just calibrating.

Or maybe I’m just taking inventory after almost dying at the hands of Vlassic last night?

I did a whole bunch of work today on deadline AND I made two scallops. Aren’t I so fancy? I think so.