Where boredom meets practicality, that's where you'll find me these days. Yessiree. I even called George Stein and asked him if I could go to court with him for some municipal entertainment, watching slobs worse off than me tell their stupid stories to exhausted and bemused judges.
I felt bad about aborting the "Whiskers of Fate" Project. I thought it was of low moral character of me to shave my promised beard just because I was a little uncomfortable, callously not thinking of the people out there who want to be entertained for free.
"Hey man, art should be a little uncomfortable to be good art," I thought to myself. "Now, pick your nose....OK."
I have the stitches from my neck surgery...
(good news...skin cancer free!)
...and I want to shave but I am scared to open the hole in my neck with my Gillette Good News razor bringing blood and tragic irony upon myself. So here's the Solomonic wisdom I've come up with on this
I've shaved half of my face. Isn't that crazy?
I was just grabbing a snack and chatting with the family for about 20 minutes and they didn't notice, so this outghta work until I get the stitches out on Thursday.
I was enjoying some Trader Joe's Blueberry Soda during snack. I don't have to tell you how refreshing and enjoyable a glass of blueberry soda can be. So my question is...why is it so rare? How come I have to go to some exotic, esoteric food store to get it? I just don't get how, as a culture, we outright reject certain fruits for certain food projects? How come it took so long for America to embrace the exciting pomegranate? Now everyone has that flavor in their arsenal, but what was the delay? I'm mystified.
Has the Lord imbued only the people in a sparsely populated enclave in the Finger Lakes of NY with the knowledge of Grape Pie? Most people look at me as if I've asked them to eat turd jerky. Hey, United States. It's grapes, it's flaky crust, it's warm. Make it. Eat it! Trust me. Damn.
After "snack," as we like to call it here at the Wachs Estate Vineyards, I did some research and I'm now America's 4th most googled guy on FM radio behind Stern, Limbaugh, and the KDND morning crew.
Don't get me wrong. I see the good in Google. From it's subliminal first three letters (Calling it "Goodle" would've been less catchy and so treacly), to it's uncanny ability to allow anyone to earn a living by playing Team Trivia in bars with the help of a concealed transmitter and laptop. But this damn Google has some downsides to it, and you should know about them.
This damn Google seems to have a beta test engine going on called "Google People With an Axe to Grind Against Wachs." I've been making swift and exciting progress on the job front for the most part, but I'm having trouble on closing the deals because some of these hirers always seem to find the people who you fucked with, or weren't sensitive enough to, and you haven't seen for 15-20 years. Twenty years ago! Sweet Martha's Scrotum! I was just a young laddie. I wasn't married, I wasn't yet a father, I wasn't an investor, I didn't own a home. Didn't raise chickens on a windswept Kansas farm. Hadn't seen the WIZARD!
I was a guy who got to do what several million American youthful males wanted to do: get paid to talk on the radio and get girls on the phone. I was a big hotshot. And then when D student Wachs made more money than my brother, the Harvard Doctor Wachs, well then. Who's got the best penis now?
Anyway, my point is that people change a whole bunch as they age. Even Manson is less extreme these days what with his latest crusade to insure that the pigs, when they are murdered, have the right to a clean knife in their throat.
But this damn Google brings the past back to the present a lot easier. Now, you don't have to buy boots, gloves, or bus tickets.
It's not life or death, but it does take several weeks to untie all the mixups that ensue when people still think you're 25, and it's a big pain in the ass, with lonely nights on the road, diddling in the hotel hot tub before turning in to watch some Kimmel and giving out a sigh before getting some shuteye for the big interview. So, what I'm trying to tell all you people out there......hold on...out of breath. Be careful what you do, kids. The mischief train broke down 'bout three miles down the road...and...and...can I get some water?
So I'd like to apologize now to the following people (and they know who they are) who I must have done something to but they can't just move on about it:
Sorry to the GM whom I called a rookie and questioned whether he really knew what he was talking about. Turned out he did. Edge: GM
Sorry to Kato Kaelin for being mean to him and pranking his show when he was on before me. Turns out he was just scared OJ would kill him next. Edge: Kato
Sorry to the GM who I called a suicide hotline about. Turns out he's still rich. Edge: GM
Sorry to Jimmy Baron for calling him gay all the time. Turns out he's getting residuals for his appearance in Endless Love. Edge: Baron
Sorry to Southside Steven for calling his mom a dried up old lady. Turns out he's on the air slinging that "Yeah C'mon," and his mom is not dried up. Edge: Rickman
Sorry to Jimmy Kimmel for Eric calling his kid meanspirited things on the air. Turns out Jimmy's on national TV and I'm not even on radio. Edge: Kimmel
Sorry to Howard Stern for baiting him in an argument in which he looked very bad. Turns out Howard got paid a lot more than I did and has a supermodel bikini girlfriend. Edge: Stern
Sorry to the producer I fired because he didn't pick up the check during a dinner meeting. Well, turns out that was a good move. Edge: Wachs
7-1 your final. Wachs takes the loss. Good night, everybody!
By the way, internet privacy advocates...good fucking job you're doing.
I've been told that, due to my recent criticism, "Armed and Famous" has been removed from the airwaves.