Not much to say when you’re high above the mucky-muck

Since college, I haven’t been able to get a whole lot of writing done.
Why is that, you ask, why you’re fucking LOOKING at it.
DAMN you, internet. You’re a cruel, cruel mistress.
I mean, we had internet at college, of course, but there were delightful libraries and student centers where you could get some studying done at a nice big table.
I can’t get anything done in this town!
My parents watch TV downstairs, so there’s that table. I can’t go to a restaurant, because every time I do, some annoying soccer team sits right behind me and has Screaming In My Ear contests or some shit.
I even tried going to a Barnes and Noble and sat in their big comfy chair and… fell asleep.
Then I went out to my car and tried to write some in there.
Yeah, when I finally woke up again, I decided maybe I should just go home.
(See kids, I DO sleep! Just only if I’m supposed to be doing something else! Like drive down a highway.)
But today, I got a call from my delightful cousin Jordan, and I was talking to her, when the answer hit both of us, and we exclaimed simultaneously – Kinko’s!
Last summer, she’d come with me on my Theater Camp errands, and we’d sit in the Kinko’s waiting for thousands upon thousands of scripts to print up, and she’d memorize her lines, and I’d draw amusing pictures of various things.
So, tonight I went back to Kinko’s and sat back in the back by the computer section to write some new jokes for my act.
I have three topics from the pro comics who taught the class, so I’ve been toiling away, and I now have two of three of them done! Well, technically all three, if you count bits that aren’t funny at all.
So now I’m sad, because Kinko’s was like the perfect outlet, and I want to go back there every night, but I’m scared that it won’t take long for them to figure out that I’m not technically “copying” anything, besides hilarious jokes from inside my mind onto a sheet of paper.
I’ve been thinking of milling around a local college campus for an open space to sit down and get stuff done. Problem is, I’m very picky. Can’t be too quiet and deserted, or I get creeped out. Can’t be too loud, or I get nothing done.
And under no circumstances can I be spoken to, or I would be forced to admit that, no, I don’t actually *go* to that college per se, I’m just a creepy college graduate who likes to hang out on campuses because I can’t let go.
All right, I’m calling it an early night tonight.
Tomorrow, I get to see all the Rock Stars at the Funny Bone!
Maybe Joe Eberle will “save” another “busload” of “orphans”. WHO KNOWS?!?!?!

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