Blog, you Bastard

Okay, blog. It's been awhile. I have recently had some dirty sex, fell on my face in a drunk stupor, attended a party where legendary writer Padgett Powell was preparing the boiled peanuts (there was also an entire hog spit roasting, face and all), and I wrote not a Goddamn thing. Almost had a nervous breakdown. My friends are also all freaking out, and I'm wondering what to do next. Point: Graduated Santa Fe with an AA. 3.9 GPA. Award-winning actor. Member of Phi Theta Kappa (the smart-people organization / never been to a meeting...they promised to recruit me with all kinds of offers...lying bullshitters), But I still can't get into UF because I do not have two years of a language. So I took Spanish and funded it by switching majors to business. Thought I'd tackle the Spanish over the summer. You know, two years in twelve weeks, no problem, right? Man, I fucked that up. So I dropped Spanish and now I'm taking business classes, none of which put me closer to UF for Acting. What kind of a world are we living in where an actor needs Spanish to learn acting by way of business? Can't I just ACT like I know the business of Spanish? Anyway, this is a rambling crappy post, but I'm trying to get my game back on. It's currently off.

Here's a poem to get things started:

Tom wrote a poem to get things started
It was as bad as if Tom farted



Thank you, thank you. I'll be performing at the Holiday Inn Rumpus Room on I-54 and Stupid Street. Cover is free if you bring a hot girl and there are complimentary hot dogs and cocktail umbrellas. Did I ever mention I had a friend who shot a cocktail umbrella out of his penis with a pistol? Lived out in the woods.