Through the shit

Everything ended superbly.

The impossible set got built (at considerable extra cost in the end) and everyone loves it. The monkeys fucked the football one last time and made it unsafe so I fixed it and used it as an opportunity to get back every penny I had been lowballed for the run of the show. When I explained the situation to a coworker he looked at me with wide eyes and now assumes I'm a mad genius who orchestrated the whole event. Not true, I'm just a mad genius who saw a window open and used it to get my dollars back.

Now the past week has been wonderfully smooth. This trip to New York is turning out more like they should've in the past. Wake up, hit gym, get clean, go to work, go to sleep. Get a paycheck, pay bills. Very little drinking, very little going out, very little being irresponsible. At the moment occupying my free time with teaching myself Romanian. So buna zuia to anyone reading this here stream of consciousness. Eventually will also start in with french and gaelic and a refresher in spanish. Then the guitar. Hopefully all that will keep my head busy for a while.

The other day one of the biggest supermodels in the world told me I should frost the tips of my mohawk white. I told her she was f'ing crazy.

I don't know if its the luck of the irish or if Jesus smiles down on me every day but things always seem to go the right way in the end. Time to start buying lottery tickets. Except I'd be that guy who wins $250 million and keeps on with his day to day, just with a much fatter wallet. Nice to dream :)

monkeys and footballs

Once upon a time a genius coined the phrase "It's like watching two monkeys try to fuck a football" to describe observing something so retarded it would confound any logical person.

Every day I'm forced to work with union laborers is like watching eight monkeys try to fuck a football. It's easily four times as retarded as whatever the genius witnessed. Probably more.