A note on finding your balls....

Let's get shit straight people, cause I likes to keep it real. I am fundamentally lazy. Maybe I should have taken up poetry or painting. At any rate, my blogging, like my credit card payments, is going to be irregular. Get over it. You don't care when I post, just that I do. It'll all be shit smeared on the wall of time anyway....
I'm getting over the lameness of having to admit that I blog. I guess I have been crossing my own boundaries lately; getting on stage for the first time, "putting myself out there" as it were. This is not a daddy didn't love me moment I'm just WHAT? that's right ya'll, keepin it real. A little context, my Pops is a musician. He was trying to make it big when my mom left him. My brother and I were like....like roadie kids, you know. To this day the smell of sound insulation and the feeling of music playing right through you makes me nostalgic. Yet, I feel that I have seen more gear, groupies and backstage antics than I care to remember. I guess I always shunned the 'business' cause you cant keep it all real all the time. You have to pimp a little bit of yourself and I may have a loud mouth but I'm humble. Lately though, Ooooo! I have become what I always was, TA-DOW!!! AWESOME!!!! It turns out that a childhood full of being introduced to strangers and carted around like a piece of equipment have taught me all that I need to succeed. Maybe (and we're getting deep here) this crazy thing they call comedy is the bizarro equivalent to my fathers music. They are both stage and microphone jobs, they both have gigs in bars a lot, and they will both completely consume and ruin your life if you pursue them! Thanks Dad, I guess I don't live up to the nickname "retard girl" after all.