Whoring Myself

Jesus. Has it actually been a year since I updated this thing? I am the goddamn worst. Twitter murdered blogging for me (and seemingly most of the modern world), and for that I apologize. For the surely no one still checking into this thing, you can find me over on Twitter @endlessjoe ... I post inanity there pretty much daily.

In the meantime, a lot of things have happened since the last time I posted. It certainly has been an eventful year. I won't go into all the details because they are myriad. But, I am happy. Truly happy and not in a comatose complacency. Excitedly comfortable.

That said, stand-up comedy consumes most of my free time when I'm not working. I have shows coming up that I'd love to see any of you within the city of New Orleans at. If you've never been to a comedy show, check it out.

FEBRUARY 22nd @ The New Movement Theater (1919 Burgundy St. New Orleans) - Pass The Mic (w/ Andrew Polk, Sophie Lucido Johnson, and Leon Blanda) $5 / Midnight

FEBRUARY 24th @ The Hi-Ho Lounge (2239 St Claude Ave. New Orleans) - NOLA Comedy Hour Showcase (w/ Leon Blanda and Addy Najera, hosted by Andrew Polk) FREE / Doors at 8pm, Show at 9pm

MARCH 14th @ Nirvana (Upstairs at 4308 Magazine St. New Orleans) - Come As You Are Comedy (hosted by Vincent Zambon) $5 / 9:30pm

I'm also on a bunch of open mics trying stuff out around the city, so check those out. You'll see a nice mixture of real comics trying out new material and absolute freaks who don't belong in public (much less on stage) horrifying innocents.

Other booked shows pop up last minute all the time as well, so again, follow me on Twitter @endlessjoe to find out about those. I'd love to see the non-existent all of you out there.

This will end my shameless whoring on a dead blog. Thanks.

The Lazarus Post

Hello there, blog. I guess it's time I let you out of the cellar to see a little sunlight. But, not too much. I don't want you getting greedy for attention.

I forget I even have this thing most of the time, which means I'm sure each and every single one of you has as well, which means I'm talking to myself in text form. I'm fine with that.

I've become comfortable with quitting things. Or, at the very least, prioritizing things more effectively. I've been doing a radio show for the past few months, and I've decided that this Friday's show will be my last. It's not gaining me anything, outside of a few weirdo listeners. I don't get paid for it. I don't have the time I need to make it what I envisioned in the beginning. Ultimately, if I'm going to stress out about something, I think it should be something worthwhile that I enjoy. Or, at the very least, something I can make into exactly what I envision. One more thing off the plate that wasn't going to nourish me anyway. It feels good.

I want to get back to basics. More film projects. More writing. More podcasts. I enjoy those things. They're creative outlets that I can make into exactly what I want on my terms.

It's important to be less ambitious about my job title or my notoriety, and more ambitious about my personal happiness.

2012 is the year I want to return to being an honest and happy man. I'm a little closer.

4:25 AM: Monday

Was woken up in the middle of the night by a dream about an ex. In the dream, I spotted her in some strange mall, and I was eyeing her ... seeing where she was going. Trying to catch her attention. She ends up looking at baby beds, and she sees me. She starts going on about being alone, but wanting a baby. I, of course, try to talk her out of that silliness. She asks me why we never worked out, and I politely tell her, "Because you didn't love me."

Upon waking up, I was struck by this awful stomach pain that has been on again/off again a recurring bane of my existence. Now, it's nearly 4:30 in the morning, and I still can't sleep because I'm in too much pain.

Gotta wake at 8 AM to go to my job that I'd kill any one of you with a sharpened bone to be able to skip this week.

Aging is for the birds.

Still True

I ran across this old blog entry from about 3 years ago on a now defunct blog o' mine. It still holds true, albeit without the sense of crazed desperation I felt back then.

I find it physically painful to restrain the urge to keep driving ... and driving and driving and driving ...

I want to go everywhere. I want to do marvelous things. I want to be in very specific somewheres at very specific sometimes.

I want to eat everything on the planet simultaneously. I want to drink anything until I burst. So long as it's cold.

I want to feel sick. Lovesick, homesick, carsick, sick from being full. Sick from simply being well too long.

I don't want to be HERE, doing whatever THIS is.

I want to feel fulfilled. I want to feel validated. I want to create things I'm actually proud of.

I want to be unafraid. I want to be unconcerned.

I want to be emotionally transparent. I want to be intellectually stimulated. I want to be free.

I want to weep from the pure hope of it all.

I want to be many things that I am not, nor will I ever be ... because I simply don't have the capacity.

But, mostly, I don't want to have to try. And so it goes ...

Party.

Ever walk around in a drug store drunk, under the fluorescent lights, picking out a Mother's Day card, reeking of tequila ... with puffy, red eyes from crying?

No?

Well, you don't know how the hell to celebrate Cinco de Mayo, nerd.

Old School Is The New School

I'm sure all of it's a phase that will fade away as quickly as the "Homeless Guy With Golden Voice" buzz ... but, I'm enjoying living life like it's the year 2000 lately.

A buddy and I were recently discussing how ICQ should make a comeback. If you have to ask what ICQ is, you don't know nothin' and I don't respect you. It was like hotornot.com (back when that was considered a legitimate dating site), Myspace, and let's just say ... Wal-Mart ... all wrapped into one back in the day. It was the communication method. It was the FUTURE! And then it died a horrible death when everyone left it like a sad old ghost town for AIM. I held on for as long as I could, sticking to my good ol' ICQ until I was like the mayor of the application. Just me, by myself, with no damn contacts left.

But, for nostalgia reasons, we dug up our old ICQ numbers, dusted them off, and logged in. And it's actually .... not bad at all. You can import AIM contacts (although I've had some problems with that), and also all your Facebook chat contacts. Of course, none of my old ICQ contacts still use the thing, but I think all of you should. Join the revolution. I'm at ICQ #: 143702682. Holler.

Beyond that, I've been working out regularly again. Jogging, lifting weights, doing the ab workouts, eating better, the whole bit. Back when I was in high school and fresh out, I was in great shape. I was in weightlifting, used to box, play football. I look at old videos and pictures from back then and it makes me feel like some sort of amorphous, unwieldy blob. So, to hell with it. I'm committing to getting back in shape with more than a "Well ... I'll jog a couple times a month, and eat one grilled meal instead of fried every two weeks and see what happens" approach. I'm sore as hell, and I'm sure I'm embarrassing myself publicly ... but, it feels great. If my willpower can stand the test of time, I might be able to take my shirt off in public without shedding tears before summer's end.

Got myself some Dr. Bronner's soap and an accupressure mat. When the hell did I turn into such a punkass?

This punkass is going to take a shower, drink some wine, and write up a business proposal. It's almost like I'm a responsible adult man. But, I'm only faking it for the cameras ...

And Then There's This ...

A few misfit clips I've shot that needed a cozy home ... in your heart. Enjoy?