Aahhh... Cannibalized...

Good morning snake berries!

Well I'll tell ya what, at this rock-bottom basement bargain price I'll sell you a healthy dose of catch-up on my exploits of late. Ketchup.

It's nearing Mid January ahora and I am mushing down a new set of routine-grooves for my schooldays. I teach fewer sections of Theatre 100 now, although somehow my students are a harder sell this time. Sometimes I confuse their silence with disrespect or boredom. It's all part of learning the ropes I thupothe.

I'm taking a "Creating new works through improvisation" course with special mime/neo-vaudevillian Robert Post. I hope that my experiements in said class will yeild the fruit of an audition piece that I can do at JLF shows or perhaps for the shamen of Second City.

My darling Destructicon has finally shed the suffocating confines of the Rocky Mountains in favor of the warmer, more down-to-earth atmosphere of the North. He said facetiously. She is moving up here today, in fact, and I am psyched to have another human to help me worm my way to the core of the discarded apple that is life. I have been too much a hermit of late, like a hamster nestled in its underground bedding, storing food in its cheeks, sleeping during the daylight hours - holy shit, that simile encapsulates my existence so well. Scatter!

We've planned a trip to Chicago, there to suck in the ancient magicks of the Second City and test the town for compatability with my city-despising self. I really hope that I like it. We'll be staying with an old improv chum of mine from the burpee days when improv was all about drugs and fast cars. And when a seven page paper was long. THESIS! HIVES! SCATTER!

The wheels on the boat go:






Markruh