(no subject)
So, it sucks that my happiness is directly related to how well I do at standup comedy on any given night. Luckily, tonight I had a killer set. The first set sucked and I was in the greenroom reevaluating my life, and the headliner, bobby slyton (who is amazing and you should all come to the improv to see him if you live in houston) comes into the dressing room and asks me what's wrong. I told him I had an awful set. He then says "So what. This shit isn;t handed to you. You have to bomb alot. Or you can quit and be faggot, faggot. Are you gonna be a faggot?" I don;t know why, but it helped. I went onstage and just remembered how much fun ti can be to tell jokes, and it worked and I killed. So, now I'm happy, and if you hang out with me before my next bad set I'm in such a good mood I'll probably buy you steaks. Multiple ones.