Monday, September 30, 2019

A Pitch to Those Who Want to See My Brain Matter Splattered

I hate the title I gave to this blog. It is definitely the most suitable headline. The only reason for my personal disdain is that may limit this former child star's creative chops when it comes to the finishing of my film "Main Event of the Dead." (Drop me an email at russthebus07@gmail if you have ideas or want a story treatment.) Then again, during my review of the blog, this may have been the only self-deprecating portion of it.

If you get to call yourself a porn "star" because you screw on film once, surely having an agent and more too offer than Macaulay Culkin (John Hughes missed out on three stellar, authentic Midwestern performances) allows me to claim that, at one time, I had more importance than a waiter with a script in Los Angeles who would not be filmed when they blew a producer to get a meeting.

That rant should indicate that Dad and I indeed went to see Auggie Smith at the Jukebox Comedy Club. His set featured the best satire I've seen since late 90's Dennis Leary. He may have even been more poignant than the Bostonian.

This means I am going to have to devote my time to catching up on Bill Hicks instead of writing with my limited spare time between the two jobs. Since writing about my exploits with unattainable women has been the latest subject on my mind to document, a little research into the true art of post Lenny Bruce satirical stand-up sounds like the best option for me and my perceived readership. Too bad the two jobs also prevented me from having the time to formulate a message to promote Smith's ability as he had two more shows that needed tickets sold this past weekend.


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