The one where I ramble...

It is not a good thing to drive back from lunch and see a man in 70's swimming trunks (although they hardly qualify as trunks) oiled up, tanning on a park bench. I almost had a yak-fest in my car.

Maybe I will pursue a network in hopes of landing a gig doing the exact opposite of Martha Stewart. Mention things that aren't good things, always wear black, avoid insider trading, only brush my hair when I feel like it not when some idiot with a stick permanently lodged up their bum finds it necessary. BUT I would still offer gardening tips, meal ideas, and crafts made out of popsicle sticks and colorful pipe cleaners. All done with my most pretentious accent...oh wait opposite...Brooklyn accent. There would be musical guests who I get to rate on a scale of 1 to 10 in a number of different categories including but not limited to "application of male eyeliner,"
"amount of stench," and obviously "amount ears will bleed if I listen to this for more than 5 minutes." I know Martha doesn't have musical guests, but if you are thinking that you must also remember Martha isn't known for wickedly fun parties. Snobbish, upper class soirees yes, rockin parties, no. I think it sounds like a great idea. I'll do three episodes and get cancelled. That's all I need to get a cult following anyway. Then I can do what I have always dreamed of Stand-up Comedy...oh wait, I hate being in front of people, and can only be moderately funny in writing. So no stand up comedy. A cult following could still land me some good gigs. Who knows, maybe I'll get a kool-aid ad spot. That would be righteous.