alright, no more working in a warehouse

i cant stop eating. i just had a really shitty piece of cake my brothers girlfriend made-i dont feel guilty saying that because it came right out of a box so duncan hines or whoever is really the guilty party-she baked it outta love shitty box cake is shitty box cake no matter who cooks it and no matter the motive. i've moved onto some left over pasta from last night which is infinately more gratifying-just a drop of olive oil and big clump of feta cheese to enhance the otherwise naked bowties. delicious. i keep on thinking i have so much to say but i really dont.m im just into the moment. i like to type even though i do it like a spaz using only two fingers. it minimizes spelling errors which always make me resentful towards myself. i kinda wanted to write about working in a warehouse all week long at the us open but i cant really seem to get to it-ive already shared most of the funny stuff with friends so i feel like id just be repeating myself here-which is why i hate doing stand-up anymore-i feel like when i do stand up if im not completely being spontaneous and free that im putting something over on the people watching. ive always resented comics whod get so bent outta shape cause people were talking or heckling-interrupting their well rehearsed bullshit about their mothers and fathers or girlfriends or neighbors or whatever else made up bullshit they were serving up. i mean im not one to knock creativity but if theres no creativity to knock id rather hear what the hecklers gotta say-atleast that shits fresh off the cuff. i wanna go doodle now.