Procrastination Destination

Am I editing or am I re-writing? Most of my afternoon was spent typing, and retyping a story that I began with fervor two weeks ago before finishing a poorly constructed first draft and promptly ignoring the story for a full two weeks. In the grand scheme of things this is kind of okay. I'm not being paid to write about international art thieves, I haven't been given a truckload of money and a swiftly approaching deadline, or a third thing - so I should be able to take as much time off from my personal work as I like. Except when I do I feel like shit. But I can't stop taking breaks! I love it! I rewarded myself for retouching the first three paragraphs of my story with playing scrabble and writing this blog post. Here's the kicker -

Even now I'm procrastinating with this blog post by adding tags to the post and checking out Vulture's "7 Books You Need to Read This July," and while Last Stories and Other Stories, by William T. Vollmann seems to have an alluring quality around it, I have a stack of books to work my way through before they topple over and no one is happy with me. 

That last sentence was almost a break into a whole new post! I can't stop. I'm addicted to procrastination. So much so that lately I've been reading up on the best way to keep from dawdling in the 21st century when you work on a computer and can therefore google whatever you want and also watch a movie (today I watched two episodes of MST3K while I did some work and then I watched The Late Shift because of course I did). What I've gleaned from my many online sources is that I should be buying a program that shuts down all of my applications except for my word processor, turning off my wifi, not even using MS Word, writing only twenty minutes a day, and not doing it at home, the office, a coffee shop, or anywhere else where I may be distracted. What's a girl to do?

It's with a heavy heart that I'm informing you that I'll be writing from inside the lip of an active volcano, the possibility of a burning and ashy death is the only thing that can get me to finish writing this story and submitting it to a literary journal on time. Right after I work on a new work out playlist and comb through Netflix for the next hour. 

A Couple of Shows This Week

Just checking in to let you know about two shows that I'll be performing at in the Los Angeles area this week. On Tuesday the 13th (spooky) I'll be performing at The Yoohoo Room in Burbank at 9:30pm with a lot of great comedians. You can (and should) purchase tickets online at www.flapperscomedy.com or by calling (818) 845 9721, that room fills up fast so get on it. On Wednesday the 14th (less spooky) I'll be at Sal's Comedy Hole on Melrose performing for Joke Squad, a newish production company that's putting a lot of really great young comedians on stage. /advertisement

 

 

Needles, Blood, and Something Called a Chest Port

Last week I began filming a documentary about the CEO of So…It's Cancer, a young man with stage 4 stomach cancer who is intent on getting his company off the ground before he dies. We've been having a lot of fun (at the moment we're in San Francisco filming his trip to a Wide Spread Panic Show) but the notion that the guy in front of the camera is slowly deteriorating is never far from the front of my brain (or where ever your main thoughts reside, I assume the front or top). If you'd like you can watch a scene from the documentary below where Nick has something called a port put into his chest. Enjoy?

Performing At Flappers - March 4th (this blog contains a coupon)

On Tuesday, March 4th I'll be performing a short set at Flappers Comedy Club in Burbank with Stephen Thomas and Paul Laier, it's already a pretty cheap show but if you use the coupon code in the link I've provided below the show is half off. I apologize for the informative tone of this blog, it's just that I stayed up very late watching footage from Woodstock 99 with my roommate and I need to drink my weight in coffee before I return to normal. You understand.

HALF OFF COUPON LINK - CLICK IT COME ON CLICK IT

 

 

The King in Yellow Goes To The Mall

In honor of tonight's upcoming episode of True Detective I have composed a poem. 

The King In Yellow Goes To The Mall

The King in Yellow showed up to the mall. Everyone was worried that he would induce despair and madness; that the world as we know it would become a riot.

But it was fine; he just needed a new cloak from Banana Republic. 

Sons Of Sierra

John and I drove five hours to Weatherford Texas from Austin (normally a three hour trip) the weekend before Christmas to spend the evening filming, joking and drinking with Sons of Sierra, a new roots rock band that puts more emphasis on having fun and grabbing a drink than worrying about band dynamics or what shirts to wear at their next show. If the phrase "three friends that also play music together" weren't so clumsy I would suggest that you refer to Sons of Sierra as that rather than a band. It's not that they aren't a real band, after watching them practice for a couple of hours proves that notion, it just seems like a nicer way to speak about such great guys. Anthony, Mike and Rene took the two of us in, fed us (a welcomed home cooked meal of spaghetti and meatballs to be precise) and bought us drinks all the while letting John and me get in their faces with our nosey cameras. With every shudder of our shutters they never missed a beat. If you live in the greater DFW area and have a chance to check out the gentleman sierra in the flesh I suggest you pay them a visit, you shan't leave disappointed. Until then enjoy the first in a series of featurettes concerning Sons Of Sierra. 

 

PS

You can find new SOS episodes at youtube.com/sonsofsierra

xo

More like "Handsomthony".

More like "Handsomthony".

Eat your heart out Abrams. 

Eat your heart out Abrams. 

Mike, in his usual surly mood. 

Mike, in his usual surly mood. 

Jacob shows Mike and Anthony the footage so far. Anthony is unimpressed. 

Jacob shows Mike and Anthony the footage so far. Anthony is unimpressed. 

As usual Jacob Shelton is in the fucking way. 

As usual Jacob Shelton is in the fucking way. 

Three Illustrated Poems

The lovely transatlantic human being and good friend Tom Levinge illustrated a few of my poems for his blog (www.tomlevinge.tumblr.com) and I absolutely love the drawrings. I hope against hope that I'll get a chance to work again with Tom soon but at the moment he's in England and on a figurative rocket to the moon so we'll see how that works out.  Go laugh at his solo work (in a good way, not like that you urchins) and have a lovely day. 

New Tour Photography

After months of looking at polaroids that needed to be scanned and digital photographs that were crying out to be uploaded my body finally gave up under the strains of travel that I've been putting it under and gave me an excuse to upload a new album of travel photos. If you're interested in how drunk and sad I was during the first month of the Krewella Get Wet tour you can now view the proof in still form.  Click on that last sentence or go to the Tour Photography section of the site. If you're wondering I'm feeling slightly better. I'm supposed to record funny voices for a thing today but it's not going to happen. 

Standing Outside on the Worst Weather Day of the Year

Last week John and I rented a shoulder mount, then bought a gourd, and a pizza and decided to stand around in the unforgiving cold while we shot a short film about a man child stuck in his own head, trying to make sense of the passage of time and the holiday known as Thanksgiving. Although most of my day was spent getting wet (and not the fun kind where you take PCP and eat the face of your dearest loved one) I'm happy with the content that we were able to output. Bully for us.  

Leftover Candy

Writing short Halloween poems may have been the one thing that got me through the parties I stumbled through last night. Here they are. Let's go buy a turkey.

Timothy unwrapped his "fun size" Snickers bar; full of rats, again. He could hear the Petersons cackling for the next six blocks.

In a fruitless attempt at a spooky holiday prank, Jerone slipped off of the stool and hung himself on his front porch. But he won first place in the “scariest front lawn contest” so it was worth it.

Pietro was once again stuck at home fending off trick or treaters, who were these children and why did they want his candy?

Ron was reincarnated as a jack-o-lantern, he came to life just as Alice, his ex girlfriend, began carving into his face. That is so Alice.

Reaching into the bucket marked “TAKE  A HANDFUL – PLEASE!” no one expected to pull out a fist full of human teeth.

Gurren wore a t-shirt that read “THIS IS MY COSTUME.” When Gurren removed the shirt at the end of the night, as did the skin from his torso.

"Now that the jocks are in on the Samhain ritual, Halloween blows." moonbeam kicked rocks down the sidewalk, mired in existential doubt.

 

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