I was just on the phone with Karen – who has been vegetarian since Lent – she calls these faux weenies she eats Not Dogs – they’re really called SmartDogs. But to have her talk about eating Not Dogs while I’m counting veal patties is such a delicious illustration of the strange world in which I walk.
Veal patty count: 1 patty.
Fuck: I just realized my play’s opening image is a total rip-off of Poltergeist. That’s like when I realized my play Roadkill had a communion sacrament in it with milk and cookies. Christ. It’s probably just as good since I’m lifting an entire scene from Aliens as a wink to my sister.
I’ve noticed that if you take any sentence from any play I’ve ever written you can add the word ‘Well’ to the front of it. I am trying to break myself of the habit of beginning every line with ‘well.’ It is quite a bugaboo.
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