Me and my new friend

Me: I don't usually work with artists. I like comedic timing.

New guy: I have timing. You need that in art.

Me: Are you street trained? Do you do have street smarts?

New Guy: I'm classically trained.

Me: I used to breakdance. I'll saw the movie breakin so I understand that there's quite a tension between the street talent and the school talent.

New Guy: The school wins every time.

Me: If you are schooled you don't die as much. Street artists have to worry about the third rail. I saw beat street. The king of the beat.

Me: The question is can you draw comedy?

New guy: I think I can.

Me: Let's see what you got.

The artist shows a couple pics that he just jotted down during the conversation.

Me: I'm looking for a sidekick. I need someone. I can't be alone. I need an artist drawing me. What's your schedule like, I want someone who can be around.

New guy: I live with my parents and I just got laid off at boarders books and music, so my schedule is pretty clear.

Me: You live with your parents? How old are you?

New guy: I'm 40

Me: Ok your hired. Can you draw me with my shirt off?

New guy: I guess.

Therapist opening scene

What am I doing in Orange County? Republicans, breast surgery, Christians. Where do I fit in?

I feel checkmated by life. I feel dead on the inside. Where do I go from here?

Do I learn how to sail? Bye some boating shoes? Wear them with no socks?

I've been abandoned. No one likes me. Why do I need people so much and at the same time hate them. Why don't people talk to me? I hate it when people talk to me.

Do I start playing golf? I hate people that play golf.

Should I go to church? I like being around people. It feels good. I like to feel like I have people who are there for me. I like to sing songs. Church has some songs. Plus I can sing on key when I'm singing in a group.

I don't believe any of the core beliefs but does that really matter? It's just about getting together and having fun, right? Do you think I should go to church?

I used to be scared of hell. But I like the donuts at church.

What's wrong with me? I just need someone to support me. I need a partner. I need a side kick.

I can't do this on my own. I have to find the right person. I won't be alone.

Is it weird to have a voice in your head that says I want to stab myself? I don't really want to but I still have the voice. Usually after I say something stupid.

I laid on the couch all day the other day and ate all my kids candy. I'm depressed. I just want to make people laugh and I just want a sidekick.

Sidekicks

My movie idea is very lame but I think it can be made easy and have a few laughs. That's what my goal is, to create a movie that's easy to make and has laughs and maybe a lesson.

The theme is the codependent triangle. The helper, the persecutor, and the victim.

It's about sidekicks. A funny man and a straight man. It's about friendship. It's about betrayal. It's about being let down. It's about the need for other people. It's about using other people to feel complete.

I've been left. My sidekick has left me for an improv troupe. I'm alone.

I need someone. I'm looking outside of show business. I'm with an artist.

It's a new relationship. My old side kick was sexy. Rod is skinny and a man. Not too sexy. He's nerdy. He's a great artist. He has the look. The comedy nerd look which is very in these days. People are jealous that my sidekick has the comedy nerd look. It's really hard to find.

My comedy book told me that I need a comedy work out buddy. That's Nathan. He has a long time sidekick. They do skits about teaching school and teaching tennis. They can read each other on stage. They've been together for years. They will never break up.

I bring Rod to a work out session.

We throw ideas off each other. We have a good comedy workout on at doheny beach.

We are walking down the bike path. Me and Nathan are talking and Rod is speaking with Nathan's sidekick. Nathan tells me he's cheating on his sidekick with a new sidekick. I'm shocked. "But you guys work so well together. I looked up to you guys as a duo."

The next workout session is with Nathan's new sidekick. Me, Rod and Ryan. They do flawless earthy hippy love scenes into bloody metal ones. Ryan knows everything about comedy and is very opinionated.

I meet Ryan at a business function and he is in his suit and tie. No one at work can know what he does on the side. Me and Ryan hang out and decide to write some comedy.

Nathan doesn't want to leave his partner but really likes performing with Ryan. Ryan is left in the cold when Nathan has gigs with his other partner.

Me and Ryan start to hang out. We have a sweet gig together.

I tell Rod to focus on art and get out of the comedy game. He's crushed.

I'm with Ryan.

But Nathan ends up leaving his partner.

Ryan leaves me for Nathan.

Nathan's partner blames me for introducing him to Ryan.

I'm alone.

I try to get Rod back but he's in art school.

I decide to go solo.

The End.

Focus

OK so I've heard the line "You are what you eat" and it definitely applies to me right now in more ways than one. I've been eating candy and ice cream in morning for breakfast. I don't know why I'm doing it but I am. I tell myself, "Duke, I don't think you are going to have a good day if you eat this candy first thing in the morning." But I ignore that voice and listen to another, louder voice which says, "Fuck it."

After I eat the ice cream and candy I lay on the couch and start regretting the past and basically regretting the present and future. I see no hope. I'm laying in this mess of bleakness and when I'm there it seems almost impossible to get out. My wife even takes the hint and gets her and the kids out of the house.

I am what I eat. The food I eat and the thoughts I decide to buy into.

The one thing that I give myself credit for and ata boys for is that I have done yoga and writing every day for over 48 days straight.

At least I'm flexible.

I knew going into this (I kind of have this goal in my head to do 90 days in a row to create a habit) that road blocks would appear. It's so weird that we have this part of ourselves that wants us to fail. A part of ourselves that is comfortable failing.

I don't want to fail. I'm at war right now. I'm at war within myself. There's great battles being waged right now and I'm hoping that I can come out of it still breathing.

Atheism is for rich people. When you are poor it's too much to not have some type of a universal supreme being. It's too much to not have some type of a force to tap into.

Knowledge doesn't do it for me when all the walls of my life and my brain are caving in on me. I need a place to go. I need to something to give these problems to. Maybe poor people are week.

I believe there is more than what we can see. This spiritual realm is where I want to focus my time and energy. The bottom line is it's much more fun to believe in a higher power. A fourth dimension.

The democrats loose because they try to sell you rational thought. The republicans win because they sell you emotion. Emotion wins every time, even if it's a lie.

I need both. There's something strong in the realm of emotion. I don't want to get lost there but I do want to spend time there. There's something beyond thought, something that holds power.

I am what I focus on and I want to focus on the spirit. To live in the spirit is to be alive.

It's also just more fun than.

Fear

I'm in a deep depression. Was on the couch all day. Ate half of my sons halloween candy. I'm obsessed with Woody Allen films. I hate my life. I'm fucked up on bad thoughts.

I want to snap on my wife and my kids.

I'm nothing.

I'm doing nothing.

I'm creating nothing.

I'm speeding the time along.

I don't matter right now.

I'm having a breakdown.

I don't want to be here.

I'm stuck.

I don't see a way out. The light of hope has gone out.

I'm stuck. I can't move.

I don't have what it takes.

It's what they a call a loser in the game of life.

I'm an idiot. I'm a bigger idiot for putting this on the web. Who cares no one reads this shit.

What the fuck is my problem?

I have this notion that money would solve everything. I have a not so hidden belief that I don't have a problem that money couldn't solve.

I also know somewhat that I would still be miserable. At least that's what the rich fucks that spend their time on the golf course and hosting catered meals with friends tell me.

Fuck you!!!!

To learn that money won't solve your problems is a lesson I would love to learn.

If I had one wish it's to learn the lesson that money can't buy happiness because I don't believe it for a second.

I'm trapped. I'm tied down. I'm forced to put up with what I'm given.

I've tried to brainwash myself into believing that the world stuff doesn't matter, but I can't stuff these emotions. They're coming out.

I'm sick of being something that I'm not.

I'm sick of not knowing what I am.

What the fuck am I?

Can I get a little clarity here. I feel like I've thrown away years of my life.

I'm depressed.

-------

I have a problem with authority but I yearn for direction. When I get it I say fuck you.

I'm a guy who thinks for himself who won't think for himself.

Am I lazy?

Nothing lasts longer than a few months.

I can't listen to others and I won't think for myself. I'm trapped in this place.

I hate people. present company included.

I love people.

I need a direction.

So pick one.

When I do people hate me. Fuck you people.

When I don't pick one I hate me.

Stupid people follow direction.

I'm stupid but I have some level of genius beneath everything. It's that god damn underground river. I can't tap into it.

I don't want to make any stupid choices. I don't want to hurt anyone, but sometimes when you decide not to hurt people you hurt them more. (You're people pleasing me so much it's pissing me off.)

I'm afraid of standing for something so I'm just lying on the couch.

Fuck you fear.

Drunk Firemen

We all know that firemen are cool. They show up and everyone is glad to see them. They always make things better. We all love firemen.

Unless....

You are doing comedy at a bar that is hosting a once a year firemen celebration/fundraiser/let's get shit faced event.

I first step into this bar and there's 100 firemen drinking up a storm and going crazy for some bag pipers. The whole place is clapping, everyone has a mustache, they are all very loud, very big, and don't really look like they want to hear comedy.

The host who went up before me was struggling hard. He threw out the idea of doing any material and stuck with crowd work. It didn't matter. A drunk fireman went on stage and attempted to pull the plug for the PA system. The DJ stopped him and as the DJ was taking him off the stage the drunk fireman was yelling, "This guy sucks. He's terrible."

I was up next and it just felt like even more people were talking. There was 50 people at the bar with their backs to me, all chatting up a storm. The people sitting on the sides of the room were all carrying very loud conversations. And there I was, on stage. Alone with a mike which still made it hard for people to hear me over the voices.

I had three girls in back watching, one guy in the middle and two gals up front.

I made the guy laugh. I heard him say, "This guy is funny."

That made me feel good. I didn't want to quit.

Make it fun and the funny will come.

Surfstyle

I'm a spiritual being having a human experience. This human experiance is involving a lot of Halloween candy, self obsession, and comedy. That's my magic combo. I just got home from interviewing Marty laquidera for my podcast and after that I did some stand up at hennysees. The crowd was filled with fireman in kilts who were not there to see comedy. I still was funny for the people watching.

When I had a spiritual mentor he taght me to medtate. My first meditation was to surfstyle skate while entering the realm of the unborn buddha mind.

Bankei was a spiritual teacher from the 1600's. He was enlightned and taght others to be enlightened. He taught the unborn buddah mind, which is behind all the thoughts.

Surfstyle skateboarding is a stylish form of downhill skating. It's not about bombing hills straight but it's about floating the board back and forth with style. This is when thought stops and the unborn is close to the surface.

Walking up hills is an important part of surfstyle, you do a lot of it. One of the best spiritual lessons of surfstyle is learning to enjoy the walk up.

Enjoy the walk up and get unborn on the way down.

Surfstyle.

Atheists are so trendy right now

I see the trend of atheism upon us. Bill Maher, Adam Carolla, Paul F. Tompkins and all the other cool kids are coming out of the closet. They are standing on the mountain top and proclaiming: "There is no God!"

The cool thing about the little atheist movement that seems to be getting some steam, is that they are pointing out how ridiculous religions are.

So you have an imaginary friend in the sky who talks to you? OK, fine by me just don't start killing people because of it. Don't start telling me what to do because of it. Just get out of my life. I think that's the big gripe. Religion is causing too much damage. When you have an organization that is raping children and then covering it up, it's not OK. Eventually the lid is going to blow wide open. When you have people flying airplanes into our buildings in the name of God then maybe it's time to re think this whole God business. When preachers are becoming so rich and powerful that they can hold down the minorities in our society then we have a problem. When children are corrupted with the idea that they are going to burn in hell if they have sex or even masturbate then let's step back and maybe start to question what's going on.

Religious people do not like to be questioned. If you start to poke fun at religion to a religious person they will attack you. Why do they attack? If they already know the truth then why are they attacking me for questioning it? If someone tells me that 2 plus 2 equals 6 I don't attack them. I don't get offended. I know the answer is 4.

Religious people are scared that they are wrong on some level and this is why they attack you. They're scared that they are wrong but they want to be a good little boy. "Mom and Dad told me this stuff so I have to go along with it. I'm a good boy. I'm following the rules." Many people just want to follow the rules. They don't want to stick out from the crowd they want to do what's expected from them and get an ata boy from Dad.

But then they see someone else having fun. "Why does that guy get to have fun?" they say. "Why doesn't he have to follow the rules?" "Why is he getting away with it?"

They don't want to see you getting away with something. Not after all the sacrifice they've done. Plus they're scared that they might be wrong. They hate rational questioning.

Denial is powerful. Denial can be good. It can be warm. Denial is like a warm blanket.

The truth is, no one knows what happens when you die. It's scary. I don't want to die (at least most of the time). I want to hang out, have sex and eat pizza. I don't want to spend my time worrying about dying, I want to relax and enjoy myself.

So we make up some stories to make us feel better.

Now I can have fun.

Wrong.

Someone just stole my Iphone.

OK, so we make up some more stories about what happens to you when you die if you steal an Iphone, and it's not good.

OK, now I have my warm blanket of denial on. It feels pretty good. Until that asshole comedian rips off my warm blanket. Of course I'm going to get mad. You get mad when someone wakes you up to early in the morning. You would get even madder if someone through cold water on you in the morning.

We like our sleep. I love to check out. This life is painful and as much as we are scared to die we are also scared to live.

We wear a blanket.

Being around people is fun. It can bring happiness. People have a need to be around people. Church and religion gives us this. It's called fellowship. It feels good to hang out with people. It feels good to know you are a part of a community that would help you if you needed it. It feels good to help someone else who needs it.

I wonder if some atheists are throwing the baby out with the bath water? There are good things about religion. There are certain truths or wisdom that can lead us in life. The problem is all the bullshit.

How do we get rid of all the bullshit and keep the good stuff?

If you are going to pull someone's blanket of denial off of them then you should have something better to replace it with. That's great if you can see all of the problems crystal clear, but if you don't come to the table with any solutions then you're really not that cool.

Phil Jackson says that he has to give 5 compliments for every criticism to get his players to perform effectively. Maybe we need to pull out 5 strengths of religion before we take down to bad parts.

The bad parts aren't that many in number they are just very huge in size.

Let's give up the whole I'm right and you're wrong. The killing. The judging. The hurting others. The pushing my religion onto you. Hurting children. The shame and the guilt about sex or any other natural human being experience.

If your religion is so good, how about you just practice it and when I see how happy you are I'll ask you what the secret is. Other than that shut up about it.

Hey religious people, be an example of your own belief. That's it.

Hey Atheists, find some strengths before you rip down the weaknesses.

Stand Up Comedy

So you think you're funny? You're not, you stupid fuck. Go home. Go home and cry.

OK, so you're done crying. You want to be a comic? Be in heavy denial. Be in denial and think you are funny when the crowd doesn't laugh. Or just go home and cry. The fact is you have to go through a lot of pain to be good. If you are going to be really good you probably go through more pain because you are a sensitive person. If you are not sensitive then you can go through the motions quicker and get some laughs quicker because you have a certain amount of fake confidence. But fuck you, you sound like that other guy.

It takes a true man to come out and be different. March to his own drum.

I don't really know what I'm talking about right now.

Go to an open mic. Don't tell anyone that you want to be a comic. Don't invite anyone to your shows for at least a year.

Go to an open mic and bomb. Feel like shit, consider suicide, question life and then get up the next week and do it again.

Make friends that are open mic guys. Meet people.

Listen to your act. What was funny? What did people laugh at? Do that again. Drop or rework what they didn't laugh at. Write every day even if you don't know what to write. Work the muscle. Fucking break through the pain wall, just like Arnold.

Make more friends.

Come up with 7 and a half strong minutes.

Then write an additional 7 and a half minutes.

You need 7 of these 7 and a half sets to be a headliner. Comedy is about the hour. Get an hour of comedy, that's the goal.

Write you stupid son of a bitch.

Write, write, write and then fucking perform and then rewrite.

Get obsessed. Listen to comedy podcasts. Get addicted to comedy podcasts.

Listen to great comics. Listen to more great comics. Immerse yourself with comedy.

Write more jokes. Listen and observe your world. Play out.

It's a marathon not a sprint.

Write some more.

Become comedy. You are comedy. Your life is a joke. This is all one big joke. You only see a joke. Live it. Say goodbye to sanity. Everything is on the table.

Get passionate for life. Live life to the fullest. When you live life to the fullest you take risks. When you take risks you put yourself on the line. When you put yourself on the line you get hurt. When you get hurt bad enough you make comedy.

Get hurt. Feel the pain. Experience the life. Walk through life awake and pay the price for doing so.

Laugh.

Write.

Stand up.

Depression

This was the word that came to me at 6am. I just did some yoga and I feel a little better right now. I heard that depression has a hard time hitting a moving target.

Was listening to the Al Madrigal interview on the Comedy and Everything Else podcast. Al was complaining about doing stand up. It's hard to do the road. He's got kids at home. His career isn't as far along as it should be. What's the reason to care? He cares too much.

Jimmy said that it sounded like Al was in the first phase of depression.

I guess I was depressed as a kid. That was my constant question through high school, what does anything matter? I could never understand the reason why people liked to watch sports so much. Who gives a fuck. I could never get myself to care.

Then I find myself in some midlife crisis, starting a talk show, yet feeling tied down to a wife and kids and then just falling deeper in the hole.

OK so depression has a tough time hitting a moving target. So I just did yoga and before that I cleaned up the house. Keep moving.

My fingers are moving now.

What comes out is not my problem. All I need to be concerned with is that my fingers are moving.

Stream

My inner workings of a life. My inner mind of a demon. My intuition is stuffed down like a pillow to the face and my depression is trying to suffocate any light. Open my eyes and I'm dreaming in. I'm focused on nothing. I'm clear around nothing and this is the place of ghosts. The place where I'm frightened to go is the place downstairs. Keep the light on in the hallway. Keep talking to me. I know the book by heart. Before you hit me can I tell you something? I love you. Fuck. I'm sick. My friends are here and fun is abound. I don't want to go to sleep. Let's stay up all night. Frightened by the killing film? I'm not. You're a dork.

Why would I publish such a thing? I'm going for 90 days. After 90 maybe I will feel better.

I have nothing to say. I'm saying nothing loud.

Fuck off and stop reading this as I publish it to the world. Deep down is the sickness deep down is the truth that no one can ever see not even me. It's too real.

Cry yourself to sleep and then never cry again. Repeat this for generations. Am I an animal? Is this the reasoning for my lack of I don't know. Calling myself phony. Calling myself leader. All names can die. Clean it away. Get rid of everything. Throw it all away it has no use for you.

OK enough with the depression. ok more depression.

What does that fucked up voice in my head say? (I'm just giving him some time)

Fuck you Duke. Stab yourself Duke. You suck Duke. People think you are a phony. You are one of those guys that just wants to become famous. So much so that you turn people off. You want to take short cuts. You want to ride the coattails of people on their way up. You can't do it on your own so you want to piggyback. You are not real. You are not a real number one fan. You just want a free ride. You are a fake. You have no talent. You are a fraud. You are a fake. What are you doing? You are ridiculous. You are a thief. A lier. Selfish. A joke. Stupid. Old. Your life is wasted. Fuck you. Why try? You will fail. You are a failure. Your entire life proves that you are a failure. You're fat. You don't have what it takes to do anything you think you can do. You just can't do it. Fuck off.

OK enough of that.

I can do some stuff. I can write and do yoga everyday for over 40 days. I can do stand up each week. I can write every morning. I can play with my kids. I can make them laugh. I can have fun with my wife. She is beautiful. My children are beautiful. And they are both really funny. I love my family. I can help my son with his homework. I can read stories. I can go swimming, on bike rides and walks with my kids. I can make people laugh. I love to laugh. I love to have fun.

Loosing your mind!

This is the topic I gave myself? Loosing my mind? That's what jumped out at me. First thought best thought, right?

I'm getting crazier and crazier. Do I want to keep going down this path or will I make a u-turn and head back towards sanity?

Fuck me. Fuck this. Fuck everything. Fuck you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck! All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.

The talking in my head gets so loud sometimes that I start talking out loud. I'll start mumbling and then I'll say, "I wish I would stab myself." Is it weird if you think of something stupid you said or did and then your mind starts saying that you should stab yourself? I get this sentence coming at me a lot lately.

The older you get the more suicide seems like an option. I remember thinking how I would never think of such a thing.

Don't worry I don't have any specific plan or real intention to carry this out but the thought does occur to me. It sounds so pathetic too. Thoughts like, "The world would be better off with out me" or "Things are definitely not going to get better it might be a good idea to swerve into oncoming traffic."

Is it so bad to talk about this stuff. It sounds pretty silly now that I'm mentioning it. It's those thoughts that are too frightening to verbalize or write down that can really fuck you over. How many people have dark thoughts that they don't even want to acknowledge to not only other people but even themselves?

"I don't have dark thoughts." They declare in there inner dialogue and they are probably the hardest to judge those that do talk about that kind of thing.

I'm fucked in the stomach right now. Major turmoil. Major artistic crisis. Fuck!!!!!!!!!

My head is restless. I have know idea where I am or where I'm headed. What am I a new school skater. That was the complaint from my mentor about new school skating. Their skate boards go in both directions. They don't have a direction.

I always thought that just because they can go both ways doesn't mean they don't have a direction. The direction is up to the skater. Not what society tells him.

What the fuck am I talking about? What's my direction?

You have to know what you want before you can choose a direction.

A skater picks his move and that determines his direction? Maybe.

What's my move? What move do I think I can pull off. I'm lost in the desert. For forty years. Is my time here almost done. Is there a new reality awaiting me?

I'm talking about one here on this dust ball.

Am I too much of a pussy to admit what I want?

I think I am.

The Fuck Yeahs!

One day in another life I had a spiritual advisor and I was open to advice. I was open to learning something new. I was teachable. I knew nothing and I knew it.

My spiritual advisor didn't like the way I was dressing. I guess I was wearing some thrift store clothes. Pants that were close to being bell bottoms with tares and holes in them.

He came over to my house with big plastic hefty trash bags. He said, "Today we are going to go through your closet."

"These are the rules," he stated, "I will take out an article of clothing and hold it in front of you Duke. I will say,'Do you want to keep this?' and if you say, 'Maybe.' then we throw it out. If you say,'I don't know.' then we throw it out. But if you say,'Fuck yeah!' then we keep it."

Sounded good to me. Like I said, I had an open mind. Sometimes when you have an open mind things happen.

We started.

He grabbed a shirt,"What do you think?"

"I don't know." I said.

He threw the shirt in the trash bag and grabbed a pair of pants,"What about these?"

"I don't know." I managed to say and they headed into the big hefty bag.

He grabbed another shirt. This time it was one that I loved. "Fuck yeah!" I blurted out. We kept that one in the closet.

We did this with all my clothes and by the end a couple hefty trash bags were completely filled.

He explained to me that nature abhors a vacuum. What this means is that nature doesn't want to see an empty space. Nature wants to fill that space.

What I learned is that if the space is already filled then nature can not fill it. If your closet is filled with "Maybes" and "I don't knows" then there is no room for the good stuff.

You have to make room.

You have to get rid of the "maybes" and "I don't knows" to make room for the "fuck yeahs!".

What are you keeping in your life that is a "maybe" or an "I don't know"? Get rid of it for nature to bring you the "fuck yeahs!".

Life lessons with Duke

OK if you are reading this for life lessons you have most likely come to the wrong place. How can a guy who is really down on himself give life lessons? I guess we will have to read on to find out.

OK what life lessons do I have stored up in my head. Too many to remember. Remember this life lesson: You only remember what you remember and the rest you forget. So write shit down.

Alright I'm barely into this thing and already I'm throwing down a gem.

Course correction. Wire balancing.

The fuck yeahs

When you grow the people around you get repulsed.

Blame is a sign to look at the signs.

Don't attach unspoken strings to your relationships. People will let you down.

Ask for help and follow your heart. (What the fuck is that cliche sounding piece of trash?)

Focus on the things you can change and let go of the things you can't.

Find out what you are good at. Do that.

-------

OK I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I'm trying to write everyday and I seem to be blocked. Is it possible to be blocked while typing rapidly?

Maybe this is the point. Just write. Just write and something will show itself.

I'm depressed lately. Typical story. (Maybe that's why I want to rack my head for any wisdom that's there so I can figure shit out.) I'm not happy. Something is nagging at me and I don't want to ignore it and then watch years slip by.

Here's a piece of advice: Sometimes in life windows open. Will you step in or not? This is the question. These windows of life don't always stay open for very long and when they close you don't know when the next time they will open is going to be. It could be years. It could be never.

I think that's part of why I kept going strong with my talk show for almost three years because I had been in a 13 year slump when I made a choice to get out of the creative window. I didn't want to go back.

I really relate to that movie awakenings with Robert Dinero, directed by Penny Marshall. That movie didn't get great reviews but it felt like it captured my life. This guy was in a coma state where he couldn't move his body or talk for over 30 years. They gave him a drug and he came to life. He danced. He was a normal person. Unfortunately the drug wore off and he went back to the dormant state. It was sad. I cried.

It was my life.

I've only been alive for brief, fleeting moments. Sometimes a window will come by and when you step through it you feel alive. I didn't want to give that up. I don't want to be dead.

Grown ups tell me that I'm ridiculous. I'm immature. I'm childish. I can't help it. I want to be awake. I want out of the dream. I want the real thing.

Some is not enough. I want it all. I want it now.

No advice here, just another wanderer trying to find his way. Where do I go? I want the signs to be clearer. I want the directions to be louder. I want GPS for life but it doesn't exist.

Maybe she was right. The girl that said you make choices and then the world turns out the way it's going to turn out and you live with that.

I want the feeling that what I am doing is the right thing. I've had glimpses. I know I could feel complete but I just can't get a grasp on it.

No one is there I guess. Everyone who says they are is a guru lier trying to make a buck and get laid. Who isn't trying to do that?

I want to be the best. I want to be adored. OH fuck did I just write that shit. It's true. I want people to look at me with respect.

Who am I some guy joining an inner-city gang or Rodney Dangerfield?

------------

Blocked or not I did my job. I showed up. Showing up is my biggest asset. It's also my liability. What do you do when your asset is your liability?

Get a job in show business.

IA and girl reunion part VI

We head to my ex-girlfriend's house. She said she was having a party, something inside me knew it probably wasn't a good idea to go but when I'm drunk I love to say, "Fuck it."

We arrive very late. I take out an amplifier to get Evan out of the back of the van. We knock and she answers.

The night before was magical. We reunited with a kiss and a future opportunity seemed like a reality. She invites us in. I think we might have woken her up. The house looked like there was a party there as evidence by all the empty beer cans and band equipment from some band that played the party. I'm in the kitchen talking with her about the party when we hear a girl scream from the bedroom. My ex runs out of the kitchen to see what the problem is.

It turns out that Damon went straight to the bedroom, got naked, and then proceeded to get naked and jump into my ex's roommates bed. This particular girl was a virgin from the catholic college (not that that move would really work on any girl.)

Damon comes running into the kitchen where I am. He sees a purse and reaches into it and grabs out a handful of cash.

"What the fuck are doing?!!" I yell at him. I grab the money from him and at that second my ex-girlfriend comes in the kitchen and sees me with the cash in my hand.

"Get the fuck out of here!" she says in a very not fun way. Then I think she says something along the lines of, "I never want to see you again. I hate you!!!"

She takes the cash from my hand and we leave.

I wake up the next morning crushed. One night the dream I had dreamt for four years came true. In the next night the dream had been smashed. This was the weekend before thanksgiving. This was the moment I decided to quit drinking....right after the holidays.

Within a couple days I had poison oak all over my arms, neck, chest and dick. I was fucked. I went to a party in a turtle neck and passed out on the floor. As people walked over me they pulled back my turtle neck to laugh at the poison oak that surrounded me.

That was the best / worst weekend of my life.

IA part V

Once again I don't want to fuckin write. I'm depressed and I'm hating everything and everybody, present company included.

So David D is about to punch Damon in the face. Damon is swearing up and down that he put the gas in the tank. Dave doesn't believe him and heads back to the gas station for a second trip to fill up the red little gas can.

Dave gets back, I unknowingly have poison oak all over me, and Damon is telling Dave with assurance that there is something wrong with the car other than gas. Dave puts the gas in and instructs Damon to start the van up. The engine starts right away. Damon is a fucking idiot!

We fill up and head to San Francisco. It's probably 2-3am. Damon likes to talk about stuff he knows nothing about. He likes to bullshit. He wants to be a politician. We're heading towards the bay bridge.

Damon says, "I'm going to run through the gate without paying."

This was a comment meant to get a reaction out of Al and myself. It was my van, the whole side door had already fallen off hours earlier and it didn't phase me. When you are drunk life is so much more fun!

"OK, Damon go for it!" I egg him on. I love to call people on their shit and this was the perfect opportunity.

"I'm gonna do it." Damon nervously bluffs.

"Fucking do it! Run the car through the gate you pussy!" I yell at him. Al is saying the same thing.

Damon goes straight for a gate in a closed lane on the Bay Bridge and stops.

"You pussy, I knew you couldn't do it. Wait here." I jump out of the car and physically lift the gate up on the closed lane of the bay bridge. Damon drives through and I get back in the van. We take off without paying and I never hear from anyone about it.

"Hey guys I know where there's a party." I say and give Damon directions to my girls house.

----------That's it for me, hopefully tomorrow is the shocking conclusion.

IA part IV

It's fucking late right now and I don't want to write. At least I'm writing that I don't want to write.

Some guy that I met when I lived in Santa Cruz, the land of the liberal and politically correct, named Damon was with us this night. This guy was the only republican in Santa Cruz. He wanted to be a politician.

We talked him into driving us.

The van is packed with equipment. Evan is in the very back literally trapped between PA speakers. I'm sitting shotgun, Damon's driving and Al is in the first back seat.

David D is in a car behind us. It's weird that I don't remember David D in this story at all until this part.

The van runs out of gas on some desolate windy road. Dave's car pulls up from behind to see what the problem is and offers to go get gas.

We're waiting.

I'm fucked up.

I open up the passenger door of the van to take a piss and fall straight into the brush on the side of the road. I stand up and take a piss.

Dave comes back with the gas can. Damon puts the gas in the tank. The car still won't work.

David D is pissed. He says to Damon,"Did you even get it in the gas tank?"

"Yes I definitely got it in the gas tank. The problem isn't gas," Damon replied.

David looks where the tank is and sees gas all over the ground. David wants to kick Damon's ass.

David goes once again to get gas and comes back to fill it up himself.

The car works.

(when I fell out of the car I fell all over poison oak. It got all over my body and then on my dick.)

What happens next is the kicker, stay tuned.

IA saga part III

I really didn't want to write today. But fuck it. I ate a bunch of junk food and ice cream and it's still morning. OK this really has nothing to do with the story.

Where did we leave off? I had found musicians to play drums and bass for Innocent Addicts. We traveled to St Mary's, took off our shirts, and put vests on. Evan cold called a bar and told them that we were going to come over with 200 people and a band.

Dan T was nervous. Moraga is a small town and the school was even smaller. He reluctantly came to the bar with us.

It's a dive bar. There's maybe 4 regulars sitting at the bar. We come in with 12 people and start loading equipment. Evan is wasted, and the rest of us are right behind him.

The band is ready to go.

I have the money from the stranger Frat gig from the night before. I notice Dan T is nervous in the corner.

I walk up to Dan T, "Hey Dan, what do you say you let me buy you a drink?" Dan puts a smile on his face and I put my arm around his shoulder. We walk up to the bar and I say, "Bartender, get me and my friend the cheapest shot of whiskey you got!."

Dan's smile faded quickly as his thoughts of a Samuel Adams disappeared. I took the shot and grabbed my guitar.

We kicked off the set with our first hit called "Bitchen". I start playing guitar with my teeth. Now I'm playing guitar on my back. Now I'm dancing on my back during the drum solo.

Next song..."Electronic dance floor". This is our rap slash dance song.

Next song is a cover by four non blondes, "What's going on."

Next song electronic dance floor again.

Next two songs: "What's going on." followed by a faster version of Electronic dance floor, and then for our closer "What's going on."

A local from the bar says he like's that song. At this point the drums have completely fallen apart. They moved about ten feet during the show.

I walk up to the bar and say, "Give everyone in this bar the cheapest shot of whiskey you've got!" After a couple more shots I say, "I'm going to throw up." as I'm about to throw up on the bar the bar tender carries me outside. I puke in the bushes.

The band equipment gets shoved into the van. The packing of the equipment wasn't done properly and when someone tries to force the door of my van shut, the entire door falls off onto the ground.

I say, "It looks like we won't be using that door anymore."

Somehow we get the door back on.

What happens next is the best part, but you will have to wait for part four to hear it.

Stranger, Girl, & IA part II

And now for the exciting next installment...

Evan was now the drummer for IA but what about a bass player? A close friend from high school Josh E was my band stranger's touring manager. He had bought into the dream of living the life of a rock and roller and was around for the ride. (My band years were a great ride too)

Josh had no music experience, but no musical experience was not an obstacle that could stop Innocent Addicts. The band is now complete, we taught Josh how to play bass in a couple minutes.

And now for the final piece, we needed a gig. This is when my brain seems to work best. I racked that old brain of mine and the answer that it computed was a small town called Moraga, which was the home of a little catholic college. Catholic schools love to party. Actually I think most schools love to party. My great friend Dan T was my point of contact.

Dan T was a twin that went to a rival high school of mine. In 9th grade I was arrested for LSD and my school found out. The school said I could stay as long as I played football or did some type of extra curricular activity. I played football for two years, got a trophy for being the hardest hitter and paralyzed a kid for 12 hours after one of my hits.

I didn't like football and knew I had to do something else. I ran for president. The activities director tried to rig the election so I would loose. The kids threatened a school walkout. The principle ordered a re-election and I won by a landslide.

That summer I went to student council camp and met a fellow student leader by the name of Matt T whom I spotted having a cigarette. We became best friends for the week and when we got home he invited me to see a free concert with Jefferson Starship where I was introduced to his twin brother Dan T who got me high on marijuana.

I needed a gig for IA and the answer my mind supplies me with is Dan T at St Mary's college. I get Dan on the phone and ask if he can get our band to play at the local bar. Dan is probably drunk and not thinking clearly and says, "Sure."

Innocent Addicts needs to have a theme when we play. The theme determines how we dress and puts the band into the right mood. We also need to drink many beers before we go on stage, it's kind of a rule. A couple past themes: Rodeo yet Hawaiian and Howard Stern yet lone ranger. We planned this gig very last minute so we didn't have time for a theme.

To Dan T's surprise we actually show up to his dorm room. We bust in telling him we need a theme! The band members take off our shirts and some how acquire vests. So our theme is no shirts with vests. We're drinking vodka, it's the only thing Evan drinks.

"When do we set up for our gig Dan?" I ask as I check myself out in the mirror with my vest.

"I thought you guys were kidding." Dan says.

"We were promised a fucking gig Dan. Now what's the name of the bar?" I shot back.

"Murphy's is the name of the bar but there's no way they're going to let some random band play at the last second." Dan said trying to reason with us.

"Dan we came here to play a gig and that's what we're going to do!" I confidently retorted. I turn to our new drummer, "Evan call up Murphy's and secure the show."

Evan somehow gets the number to Murphy's and calls, "Yes hi, we are celebrating a friends birthday and we were wondering if we could bring the party to your bar. We also want to bring our band to perform." Evan pauses while listening to something the bar tender is saying, "We have about 200 people. That's great we'll see you in a little bit."

We had maybe 12 people at the most.

-------My three year old needs me to play wii, stay tuned for the next shocking installment.

Stranger bombs, I kiss, and IA plans to strike!

I was in a band called Stranger. I never really liked the name but it was the one people knew us by. The band started in high school and stayed together till I was almost 22.

A friend from high school Ted C went to Berkeley. He was in some frat.

The gig paid a couple hundred bucks. Berkeley and Stanford have a big rivalry and Ted hooked us up to play after the big game. We have to be there at 2 in the afternoon right after the game. The rest of the band was in San Francisco. I was the first person to make it to the gig at maybe 1pm. Ted paid me a couple hundred bucks. Free food and free booze, my favorite things, my favorite price. I ate and I drank.

People started to arrive. I called the San Francisco house where the band was and didn't get an answer. "They're on their way." I thought.

2pm comes and passes. I begin to stress. I drink more. The place gets completely packed with people. I hear people start to yell, "Where the fuck is the band?!" The frat boys start asking Ted, "What's up with your boys?"

I begin to get the sense that Ted went out on a limb to book our band. The frat guys are starting to treat Ted like shit. I over hear guys talking shit about Ted behind his back about how he's a fuck up. Voices are yelling about how the band is a bunch of losers.

I call the house in SF again, the band just woke up and they're going to start heading over. People at the party are talking about how this party sucks. The party is starting to thin out. Someone writes on a big chalkboard that Ted is a loser. I'm hiding behind some trees with my beer. I offer Ted his money back but he tells me to keep it.

The band shows up at 8pm. There's maybe 10 to 15 people left. There was close to a few hundred when we were supposed to play. We set up and play. The lead singer gets drunk on vodka and screams instead of singing. I feel embarrassed. The entire band basically feels the same way.

We pack up and the frat basically never wants anything to do with us again.

After the frat debacle I go to a party at my old high school girlfriends house. I have long hair and long sideburns. I think I look cool. The ex girlfriend is single. Her friends think I look cool too. I go for a walk with this girl around the block. We talk. I'm pretty drunk but apparently coherent enough to initiate a make out session. This is like four years after we broke up. This was what I had wanted for four years! It was one of those moments that I couldn't believe was happening. It was surreal in the way that it wasn't as good as I would have imagined it to be but it was everything that I thought about everyday for years coming true. It was almost as if I was out of my body watching myself make out with this girl in San Francisco.

I left and she invited me to come over the next night for another party.

Innocent Addicts was my alter ego band. I loved this band name. Albert P was one of my best friends in high school and probably the funniest person I knew. He was in town and I knew we had to get IA a gig to redeem myself for the Stranger fiasco at the berkeley frat.

One problem, we didn't have a drummer, a bass player or a gig. I knew we could get around that. Evan, the lead singer of Stranger, was not only a drummer but a big fan of IA.

Tune in tomorrow for the rest of the story. (Lesley just walked in)

Pancakes?

There's a new restaraunt opening up right belopw my house. It's been under comstruction for over six months. The name is something like "Pancake Stacks".

Is that really what the world needs right now? More pancakes.

We are a fat country. In every way. Our bodies are fat and our appetite for crap is fat.

The world doesn't need more pancakes.

I'll probably get some when the store opens.