Blorf

Hey - Andres du Bouchet here - the real comedian, not the fake movie star. I have to admit, I had grand aspirations for this blog when I started it, but lately I haven't felt particularly inspired to add much to it. I've also been busy with my current job, moving plans, wedding plans...hey, you know what? I don't feel so bad now. I'm busy, dangit. Anyway, I'll probably write more at some point. Until then, enjoy the rest of the internet!

Gust Peneenis

Never mind his name. He knows it warrants a chuckle. For the past eighteen and then some years, he has been my therapist and confidante. He has helped me ride the sick pony that is my self-confidence through the desert of my self-pity towards the seemingly always receding horizon of not wanting to drink myself to death. He has certainly slowed the inevitible, and for that I owe him greatly.This morning at my sept-weekly (fine. Daily.) appointment, I broke the news that I had been excised from what was to be my comeback film... he did not take it well. I spent most of the session consoling him.

Slalom!

I an logging from my iphne in betwen cocotaiks on the drink slwlm. Drink slalom. His iphne ipjon iPhone is gloriously convenient! So easy to type on. Right now I am between the scotch colada station and the Zeus' nutsAck stations. I am contemplating my sad self and my penis. Such a sad penis. When wasthw last time you delved vaginaforth oh penis? Aaasaaahaaaaq

I have a confession to make.

This long gap in my correspondence, the one that I so cleverly hinted was due to my rigorous training schedule for an upcoming military film...it is a gap of lies. That is to say, I initially WAS indeed training with Danther in preparation for a war movie, but approximately one and a half workouts into the regimen I got ferociously high on crack and Jack and accosted Danther with a pancake. That was still in a cast iron skillet. Oh poor Danther. He'll be alright once his body stops trying to reject the new eye, but his report to the producers of the film resulted in a swift and irrevocable renunciation of my role. Zip! Gone. And I, unemployed once more. RICH, yes. But without anything to...what's the word I'm searching for...ah yes. Do. Without anything to do. But wander my Hollywood mansion, meandering from alcoholic beverage to alcoholic beverage. It's a bit of a drink slalom. Slalom. Huh. Even typing the word "slalom" makes me feel like I'm slurring my words. Oh Christ what am I going to do here in these, my twilight years??? Oh dear now the keyboard is sticky with scotch.