that All but Interminable, Awkward
Wrangling of a Cork Toward Its Eagerly
Anticipated Release: the Solace and
Assurance of that Hoped-for and
Hopefully Hopeful Pop
I’m not an alcoholic, with apologies. And I’m first
and foremost a comic, which is too bad, for obvious
reasons, so why apologize? Proselytizing is also a
bit of a WHY? But this is what I do, a series of ext
ended romps, which I certainly find entertaining and
enlightening (resolution: turn outward, not inward, I
mean, enough already!) which are intermittently shocked
out of their fervor and meaninglessness into spurts of what?
Hurt feelings? Chips on shoulders? Haughty pissiness?
That glaze downward at the (always) hopefully imagined
lowest common denominator? Wisdom springs from experi
ence, I suppose. And what have I done? Actively? I do this.
And I l,,,ove it. Watch me. Or don’t. It is not just for me. Is it?
Only you can prove me right. But who am I kidding? [Shrug]
