sweet christ! yesterday practically everything that could go wrong did go wrong... everyone says they have days like that, but i'm not so sure... it makes me want to pee myself as a self defense mechanism, but then panic immediately afterwards because i no longer have clean pants.

so sweet christ, i get to duluth (which hates me, i assure you) and i realized i needed black stockings which i hadn't had the foresight to pack. i split one of my backup boots up the back of the calf (the show in duluth is too long to wear my new boots, they'd die all untimely like) so i dropped my bags off at the club and went walking through canal park trying to find socks.

first of all, duluth was piss cold yesterday. it was forty-eight when i arrived, thirty-nine when i was leaving (and raining to spite me). so i didn't have a jacket, and i'm speed-walking down the street popping into these different shops to see if anyone has stockings...

jumped into one that had racks of clothes out front and apparently nothing but clothing inside and had this conversation with the shopkeep:

"Hey! Excuse me, do you sell any stockings here?"

*narrows eyes* "No."

"...Oh. Uh, is there anywhere around here that does?"

*goes back to reading paper, and grunts* "No. Go away."

uuuuh... thanks buddy. good way to run a business. ass.

so anyhoo, ninety dollars later (oooooh, silver shop, shiny!) i had a pair of socks and went back to the club. got all dolled up and proceeded to make NO MONEY my first three sets. guys were tipping the other girls, but it was like... i'd come out and that lone cricket would start chirping, some old man coughs, you know the scenario...

so i'm sitting in back, getting really super pissed and this close to committing seppuku with a frisbee, and i walk out on stage... and who is there but...

...

comicking.

"I'm here to avenge your duluth!" he said, looking like he was trying not to laugh at me. i guess my expression must have been pretty funny. now that's what i call going the extra 187 miles.

thank you sir, for avenging my duluth, and for laughing at my crappy jokes. i don't think anything else could have fixed my mood last night. i tip my nonexistent hat to you.

and today, i'm crabby. because hey. four hours of sleep.


how many of you guys do you think i could fit in my pocket?