Last night I put my name in the hat to compete at The Moth, but unfortunately I was not chosen. The story-telling competition features ten randomly drawn contestants, each teller reaching into the hat to draw out the name of the next one. This means I stood for two hours waiting to see if I was going to get on stage. Above I frown with displeasure at the mirror in the Nuyorican Cafe bathroom.
If you ever decided to compete at The Moth and you are going to tell the story about how you are an out-of-work actor/comedian/writer/artist and the people at your day job are dumb and that you were unpopular in high school and that Bush sucks…don’t. That story has been told before.
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Remind me that I want to make a page of the cliches that my coffee guy and I have exchanged. Today’s was, “Got to put bread on the table.”
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Site of the Day: Read my friend Alex’s article about Tibetan monks and architecture.