That made only Jeff, Jordan, and I laugh, but it was worth it and I'd do it again if I had to. I've re-issued FODJ episode 2 with absolutely NO extra features or adjustments of any kind. The only upside is that these newly uploaded gems no longer have that ear-shattering RIZZA tag at the end of them, or whatever it was called (Snoop Dogg's podcasting host). That feed again, if you haven't entered it into your iTunes, is:
http://switchpod.com/users/fodj/feed.xml
"Gabe," you may be asking yourself, "what the fuck do I want with old shows? Haven't you been writing anything else?" The answer is, "Go fuck yourself, grandad. You ain't the boss o' me." And other cliches. But the reality is that I'm doing more reading than writing right now in preparation for two things: 1) the one man show I'm working on, and 2) the play I want to do in August. This weekend, I shall be reading The Philadelphia Story and a few plays by Eric Overmyer. Right now, I'm leaning toward keeping it Philly strong. Overmyer seems like it'd be a chore just making sense of everything.
AND, SPEAKING OF PHILADELPHIA. I've signed up for the Philadelphia Marathon. I've been remiss in my running for the past four years (2002 New York Marathon being my last), so I've joined the ranks of the New York Road Runners Club again. My first race since 2002 ended in my doing 4.8 miles in 40 minutes, a pace of 8:20, which is my fastest official time on record. This could be a result of my excitement for being involved again, or it could be that I'm not drinking my body weight in scotch the night before anymore. "The night before anymore..." Oof.
So, come November 19, I'll be announcing projected earnings for this network...(ha ha ha...a Frank Hackett moment). Come November 19, feel free to join me on a no doubt chilly late autumn morning in Philadelphia. Here's the route:
And anybody who suggests we take a picture next to the Rocky statue gets punched in the tits.
5 comments:
If you need a place to crash, I've got a spare bedroom. I'll even cook you dinner.
Bring Brenda! I'd love to meet her. And cook her dinner.
wait: you're preparing for a big project rather than getting bogged down in day-to-day small-time stuff that revolves around relentless self-criticism?
how the hairy bug-eyed fack is that ever going to work?
Take a picture of yourself eating at Pat's Steaks.
I am envious of your less than 9 minute mile. But considering I smoke a pack a day and run stoned, I should be fine with my 9:40, no?
9:40 is about what I average, Anju. I was surprised as anybody to see my pace quickened by the mere presence of other heaving jerk-offs who were stupid enough to get up at 7 on a Sunday just to pin a number to their chests and wheeze through 4.8 miles of the same park EVERY race is in. I think I ran as quickly as I did just to get it over with
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