It's late, and I should be in bed. Instead, I'm sitting in front of this damn computer again. The cursor is flashing at me impatiently, almost like a neglected pet waiting to be fed. I had a nice quiet evening with Erin. We flaked out on the couch, and watched a couple of movies. It was nice. I like curling up with her at night, there's a sanity to it that grounds me.
I've got my headphones on so I can contain the wailing guitars that I find are a requirement when writing. Tonight's choice is the Doughboys - Home Again. It's a classic power pop record and one of my all time favorites for sure. It's the one I like to listen to when I'm feeling nostalgic. Back in my campus radio days a song from this album got spun at least once a show.
I finally finished flicking through this months copy of Adbusters. The content is getting a little more focused than it used to be. It's nice to see that it's starting to get away from the sophomoric blather, and getting into the serious business of culture jamming.
Right now they have a cool little side business going. The magazine has started an anti-corporation. They are selling ethically made sneakers with no logo, (other than a blank white spot…) and have started up a record label that helps artists rather than fuck them and then rob them blind. Apparently they have a store opening up in Vancouver where you can buy ethically made and fairly traded goods. It's a great idea, and I wish them nothing but the greatest success.
Cooler still, with the purchase of a pair of sneakers, you get a share in the company. You get to be a shareholder. That's fantastic. I can't imagine Phil Knight at Nike surrendering shares with every purchase. His head would explode.
My insomnia is back with a vengeance. It's as if my conscious hates me. I need sleep; yet, it pretty much just tells me to “Go fuck myself…” Otherwise I'm okay. I am in a bit of a creative spurt. None of the new jokes I've written are clever, but they sure are fun, and a whole lot more blue than I have ever been. It's kind of liberating. I can't remember the last time I had this much fun as a comic. It's been a while. The Toronto excursion has proved to be more fruitful than I had expected.
The Rock Star attitude has finally started to fade, which is good for my soul. Now I get to knuckle down and become something stronger. What that is, I'm not too sure, but I'll know it as it begins to take its desired shape.
I'm doing two guest spots tomorrow night. I can't wait. I've been itching to get on stage for a few days now. I get out of sorts if I haven't been on in a while. It's like a drug, but it's not the adrenaline rush, or the laugher and applause that get me excited. It's the total freedom. The time that I spend on stage is mine, and no one else's. It belongs to me.
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