Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Monday, October 16, 2006
having so much fun i peed my pants
dear loyal blog readers,
my lawyer has advised me (ie begged me) not to write about the details of my marital status right now. As I learned in Toronto, ANYTHING you blog, can and will be used against you in a court of law.
The direction of these blogs now will be, (like my life) forward and positive. The best revenge, as they say, is a happy life.
So here we go...
I am single - and most importantly, available. I bought a nice 12 pack of LARGE LifeStyles. (note to the X's defense team - the regular sized condoms found in my home were not for me, I can PROVE it.)
I have had two parties at the newly painted bachelor pad. The first was last monday after Darby's. The very sexy young staff at Darby's were here till six AM - with no complaints. Life in the Ocean Villa is nice. All my friends in the building know about the change, and have been very sweet about it. The building manager John, (who is eighty two, and came out to see my show at Darby's the other week) showed his hand when he immediately changed the names on the front door buzzer to show only mine.
The second party was on Friday, after Dave and I went to the Canucks home opener. (we lost). I was a bit of a mess at the game. My doctor had prescribed Lorazepam to help me with the stress of my life, and I took one earlier that day for the first time. Bad idea. I fell asleep in the 2nd period, dropping a full beer. At the end of the game, I had to pee like never before.
Holy shit, or rather Holy piss, I think I'm not gonna make it. The pill, combined with Dave's bottomless supply of beer, and I'm in a blurry panic. The bathrooms are no where to be found. By the time I get to a urinal (down three flights of stairs and through a hundred yards of thronging canucks fans)I hardly have to piss anymore -because most has already leaked out. Fortunately I am wearing dark pants, and nobody really looks at one another in large crowds, so nobody can tell, at the age of 46 (or 32 in Dane Cook years)I have pissed my pants in public. I get cleaned up. Some guys look weird at me as I blow dry my crotch, but I don't care.
I had lost Dave, and didn't have my cell with me so I just headed to the truck. I am still on the brink of going Karen Ann Quilan, trying to remember where we parked. Fortunately Dave Copeman is easy to spot in any crowd, even by the semi-conscious.
Dave has a large package with him."Oh there you are!" he says is his quietest voice, the bellow. "I just headed for the truck..." "Good boy!" (Note to self - take Lorazepam sparingly, and with no recent plans in mind!)
Dave is very happy. He finally won something from the Canuck Place auction. (Winning meaning he was willing to pay more than anyone else. It all goes to a good cause he points out, and besides, its my house-warming gift.)
Back at the pad - KFoxx and some other peeps show up. (yes there were girls, but good manners demands they go unnamed and unphotographed.)
Dave presents the gift, and it couldn't be more perfect. I have recently freed up a lot of wall space - and I was looking for new boy stuff to hang. The gift is a beautifully framed signed photo of Captain Kirk McLean from the 94 Stanley Cup run. Still working my way down from the little white pill, I manage to find a hammer and nail and get "kirk" to his permanent spot. It looks great - and everything about it speaks of my friendship with Dave is a deep way.
KFoxx has a way of brightening up every party, and he and I get into probably the best conversation we've ever had - as far as honesty goes.
Finally, at about three, I figured it was time for me to finish four years with a ritual. I took a metal box, and in it I put the witherd roses that I had bought the X on her last night, a photo of us at new years, another of us kissing on the balcony at the crib, a "I heart Squishy" note,a wish bone she had saved fron a chicken I cooked and some poems that had been dedicated to me.
I put a little gasoline in the box(I'm the resident gardener at OceanVilla). I took it outside to the firepit, and took a tea candle and lit it, and put it in the center of the box. When the gas fumes connected with the candle flame, the whole thing burst into flames. I watched it burn, slowly feeding in the pages of a chapbook of poetry that was dedicated to me from the X. (There are dozens of copies of it). It was weird for my friends to see me do this ritual, but the time was right, and they understood (sorta). I had to let her go. I had loved her dearly - but that was then. The fire comsumed that love - and left it in ashes. Now I could move into the future untethered.
So this morning I'm up early - my daughter is sleeping - as I sit at my table writing this. We are going to church, and then to Science World, with a friend and her two little girls. The pad is well on its way to being completely re-done, and has been cleaned within a inch of it's life. My daughter's clothes and toys have been rescued from deep corners of storage closets where the X had obscured them. The emacipation of the toys. Why grown women try to compete with my daughter for me, is beyond me. They will never win.Ever!
My life is good. Darby's is going well,the phone keeps ringing for people wanting to do sets, and the Manager Jeremy says the flyers are ready. I have a bunch of work for YukYuks coming up, and have a new play on the go. I have great friends and I am having fun again.
Now I have to go wake up her highness. She continues to be the source of unconditional love - and makes sure that whatever happens, I always have a girl...
my lawyer has advised me (ie begged me) not to write about the details of my marital status right now. As I learned in Toronto, ANYTHING you blog, can and will be used against you in a court of law.
The direction of these blogs now will be, (like my life) forward and positive. The best revenge, as they say, is a happy life.
So here we go...
I am single - and most importantly, available. I bought a nice 12 pack of LARGE LifeStyles. (note to the X's defense team - the regular sized condoms found in my home were not for me, I can PROVE it.)
I have had two parties at the newly painted bachelor pad. The first was last monday after Darby's. The very sexy young staff at Darby's were here till six AM - with no complaints. Life in the Ocean Villa is nice. All my friends in the building know about the change, and have been very sweet about it. The building manager John, (who is eighty two, and came out to see my show at Darby's the other week) showed his hand when he immediately changed the names on the front door buzzer to show only mine.
The second party was on Friday, after Dave and I went to the Canucks home opener. (we lost). I was a bit of a mess at the game. My doctor had prescribed Lorazepam to help me with the stress of my life, and I took one earlier that day for the first time. Bad idea. I fell asleep in the 2nd period, dropping a full beer. At the end of the game, I had to pee like never before.
Holy shit, or rather Holy piss, I think I'm not gonna make it. The pill, combined with Dave's bottomless supply of beer, and I'm in a blurry panic. The bathrooms are no where to be found. By the time I get to a urinal (down three flights of stairs and through a hundred yards of thronging canucks fans)I hardly have to piss anymore -because most has already leaked out. Fortunately I am wearing dark pants, and nobody really looks at one another in large crowds, so nobody can tell, at the age of 46 (or 32 in Dane Cook years)I have pissed my pants in public. I get cleaned up. Some guys look weird at me as I blow dry my crotch, but I don't care.
I had lost Dave, and didn't have my cell with me so I just headed to the truck. I am still on the brink of going Karen Ann Quilan, trying to remember where we parked. Fortunately Dave Copeman is easy to spot in any crowd, even by the semi-conscious.
Dave has a large package with him."Oh there you are!" he says is his quietest voice, the bellow. "I just headed for the truck..." "Good boy!" (Note to self - take Lorazepam sparingly, and with no recent plans in mind!)
Dave is very happy. He finally won something from the Canuck Place auction. (Winning meaning he was willing to pay more than anyone else. It all goes to a good cause he points out, and besides, its my house-warming gift.)
Back at the pad - KFoxx and some other peeps show up. (yes there were girls, but good manners demands they go unnamed and unphotographed.)
Dave presents the gift, and it couldn't be more perfect. I have recently freed up a lot of wall space - and I was looking for new boy stuff to hang. The gift is a beautifully framed signed photo of Captain Kirk McLean from the 94 Stanley Cup run. Still working my way down from the little white pill, I manage to find a hammer and nail and get "kirk" to his permanent spot. It looks great - and everything about it speaks of my friendship with Dave is a deep way.
KFoxx has a way of brightening up every party, and he and I get into probably the best conversation we've ever had - as far as honesty goes.
Finally, at about three, I figured it was time for me to finish four years with a ritual. I took a metal box, and in it I put the witherd roses that I had bought the X on her last night, a photo of us at new years, another of us kissing on the balcony at the crib, a "I heart Squishy" note,a wish bone she had saved fron a chicken I cooked and some poems that had been dedicated to me.
I put a little gasoline in the box(I'm the resident gardener at OceanVilla). I took it outside to the firepit, and took a tea candle and lit it, and put it in the center of the box. When the gas fumes connected with the candle flame, the whole thing burst into flames. I watched it burn, slowly feeding in the pages of a chapbook of poetry that was dedicated to me from the X. (There are dozens of copies of it). It was weird for my friends to see me do this ritual, but the time was right, and they understood (sorta). I had to let her go. I had loved her dearly - but that was then. The fire comsumed that love - and left it in ashes. Now I could move into the future untethered.
So this morning I'm up early - my daughter is sleeping - as I sit at my table writing this. We are going to church, and then to Science World, with a friend and her two little girls. The pad is well on its way to being completely re-done, and has been cleaned within a inch of it's life. My daughter's clothes and toys have been rescued from deep corners of storage closets where the X had obscured them. The emacipation of the toys. Why grown women try to compete with my daughter for me, is beyond me. They will never win.Ever!
My life is good. Darby's is going well,the phone keeps ringing for people wanting to do sets, and the Manager Jeremy says the flyers are ready. I have a bunch of work for YukYuks coming up, and have a new play on the go. I have great friends and I am having fun again.
Now I have to go wake up her highness. She continues to be the source of unconditional love - and makes sure that whatever happens, I always have a girl...
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