Good Times Gonna Come...

Oh...

Help...help...help...

Casting be ick. Ick is castingness. Poo on theatre. Poo on ick. Ick poo.

Where the hell are all the actors who have done R-rated theatre and are comfortable with it??? Where are the gay men involved in theatre? Where can I find a Donna and a Doug and a Michael to match? Where have all the cowboys gone?

Seriously, if I re-title it "Fag-Play", will people audition?

We start rehearsals tonight...well, SORTA!!! Cuz guess what? A fourth of the cast has either backed out or is uncast, and another fourth won't be there till around 8.

I'm listening to music. Oh, Aqualung, take me away! My job is so stupid. Why am I stressing myself out with all this shit, when I could have interviewed for that job with Ameritrade that would have paid like $17 per hour, so that I could finally afford to live with all my debt?

AND WHY WON'T ANYONE OFFER ERIC A DECENT JOB!?!!?

America's economy is retarded for the lower-middle class. Seriously. Checking accounts fuck us over, jobs fuck us over ("You're TOO qualified..." "Oh, sorry, your college degree isn't enough qualification to answer the fucking phone...")

WE NEED TWO INCOMES, ALL YOU EMPLOYMENT ASSHOLES, AND WE NEED DAYTIME HOURS. IS THIS SO INSANELY DIFFICULT TO OFFER?!

I want to move to France. They have the whole 4-day workweek with 10 hour days. I could do that. Would be nice having a day off in the middle of the week, as well as weekends.

And WHO THE FUCK uncovered the fucking fuck-ass salad I made last night and then LEFT it fucking uncovered in the fridge? It's a good thing I noticed it this morning. But seriously, whoever did it - fuck you!

I want an avocado.

I always want an avocado.