"The Monster I Aspire to Be"

Oh my dear lord, kids.

Just a quick note to say how well my reading went at Club Six tonight: IT WAS FUCKING AMAZING. It felt so good: Top Cat Playing the sax up againt the warehouse wall, my post reading meeting with the promoter in the basement that turned into my regular weekly booking, the applause and the nods that I asked for; the new piece that I was so scared to read that ended up catapulting my carreer. My carreer. Whoa.
I'm beginning to wonder what that even means--writer, artist, wordsmith...what have you--it doesn't seem possible for me to be so successful at a pursuit I've 'pursued' for only a couple of weeks. I mean...WHAT?

New piece soon, kids. Promise. New SF essay, and two poetic prose pieces meant to be read.


(p.s.--those of you in SF--Don't miss me at G Bar, California @ Presidio Wed and Thurs, Club Six on Tues, all nights 'round midnight.)


~PhoenixRising said...

You so know I'd have answered the phone if it wasn't ringing at 6:30 in the am :)
Thanks for the call, I'll give you a call later tonight when I get home from the worky work.

Thaozee said...

Any chance of a recording of this? I need sound to go with me imagining you holding a rock goblet in the air.

Erika said...

*ahem* career? :-)

~PhoenixRising said...

on that note, did I mention my highness? and by high i mean booooozed?
Oh, never mind. Another daY :)

~PhoenixRising said...

So I never answer your calls, cause it's always like 3 in the morning on a workday... Get you're time-zones right, youngin!
Anyway, your non-updated blog is sooo not gangster. Get your update on!


charles.bukowski.costanza said...

*m* - can't find your phone number. again. i've no idea how this happens. but will you send it to me? call me and leave it on voicemail (2068907280). cos, god: i could use an update from you, by which i mean an excuse to talk about things which have little if any to do with actual updates. i've been online only rarely in the last few weeks but am so glad to hear of you and your domination behind the microphone. you spit hot fire.