thanks to all of you guys who came to see me perform this last month.

thanks to all of you guys who came to see me perform this last month. I have booked a gig next November -- a solo till then i hope i see you on the street or in a bar. i'll be the one worrying about whether i can afford my Budweiser, tearing off the lable.

I know, weepy weepy me. Believe me, all this financial stress and possible eviction from my apartment has made me feel like a survivor. I keep reading those tiny-print bios of literary figures like Daniel Defoe -- who died deeply in debt, excommunicated from London, and I wonder how i can make sure I dont suffer that same fate. Money PLAGUES me, all the time. In my entire adult life i have never ever had it (except for about three months after i got my advance for hornito -- but then it all went to credit card debt anyway)...I dont know how to be less "deep" or more "Marketable" in this weird plastic pig that is our culture. I feel like i am living in aworld of illusions when DJs and Stylists make more money than i could ever dream of making...even my stalker makes more momey then me. (more about that later...i think i'm writing a piece about that whole ordeal in the near future)

But i forge ahead. Let the real people rule someday. Not only do i want to crush the face of the obviously evil like GW Bush with my novice-beginner level Kung Fu training, but i want to crack a hand over the skull of whoever is making money and imprisoning us in this American Idol/karaoke machine/MTV booby beach house/Queer As Folk fuckwad world.

If life is actually a path, then maybe i was pre-ordained to lose my apartment, and have to fuse down my belongings to one bag, and just travel around for a while like Bill Bixby in the Hulk, repressing my anger and waking up in the woods.

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