Well, here it is again.  Christmas.  It’s been a very long time since I’ve been a fan.  About twenty-eight years.  Yeah, I have baggage with Christmas.  I’ve worked through it for the most part and then I worked in retail for the last twenty-five years.  People have often given me shit for hating Christmas.  As though I’m the child clinging to fairy tales.  The thing is that Christmas tends to be fun when you’re a kid, and then when you kids.  I’m in neither circumstance, sooo, Christmas really hasn’t been fun for me a very long time.  Long story short, I haven’t much reason to enjoy Christmas so I don’t.  

     Moving on.  I’ve been watching Skeleton Crew on Disney+.  If you haven’t watched it yet, you’re missing out.  I’m not like many 80’s kids, I don’t give two shits about The Goonies but I did always fantasize about adventuring through ancient ruins and aboard pirate ships and such.  And with this all being Star Wars in the first place, it’s very much in the pocket for me.  This show is a lot of fun.  They’re doing a great job of dissociating the characters from the established universe at large, giving the viewer a more closely representing the audience.  All-in-all an interesting take on pirate adventure stories.

     I think this’ll be a short one this week.  I had my last day at my job this week and I’m getting used to not having a job while not shuddered in perpetual dread over not having any money to get by.  My last paycheck was actually substantial.  The series of dead-end no-paying jobs I had before didn’t pay so well.  My point is, I’m not in a terrible situation currently and within a month and a half I’ll be back home in LA.  Eating at In-N-Out on Van Nuys, driving Mulholland to look over the valley and clear my head, and painstakingly walking rooms at many open mics.  Home.

Alright, I’m moving back to LA.  To make this happen I had to quit my day job so that I could cash out my 401(K) to pay for the move so, it looks like I’m waiting until the end of January to execute my move.  People keep panicking over this as though I have any future for which to plan beyond January.  Here are some things to keep in mind; I’m the one who knows my finances and not everyone around me who’s mommies and daddies carried them into their twenties and thirties and then inherited their houses and estates, I’ve spent my teens, twenties, and thirties in a series of dead-end no-paying jobs just barely keeping my head not-above-water because of the various frauds my “mother” committed, and then most important, that I’m an abused child who started stand-up in my thirties.  My retirement plan has never not been a noose.  After my current financial circumstance, not making this play with my 401(K) right now would require me to execute Plan B before my next birthday.  And that was the case before I fully committed to moving back home.  For the record, the biggest component of this situation is that I was taken advantage by someone I used to call friend.  Turns out that American governments and christian churches refuse to help anyone because there’s no money in it.  I tried to help someone who pissed away all my money while they refused to get or keep a job for longer than five minutes.  I maxed out my credit cards and took out loans to keep a roof over both of our heads for a year and a half while they sat around jerking off on my couch and watching cartoons twenty-four hours a day and ultimately killing my television in the process.  For the first four years I owned that television the times it was off was when I was at work or open mics and that asshole killed it in about eight months.  I like helping people, I really do.  But I’ve never had the money to do so substantively.  I didn’t get to go to college so, when I tell people things that are in their best interest but they don’t listen because I don’t have a diploma.  A one-hundred and forty-five point IQ doesn’t mean anything to them because “it’s just a number” and they can’t comprehend that it’s a metric for a person’s capacity to take in, process, and utilize information as it applies to relative circumstances and the ability to apply that information to infinitely disparate circumstances.  My point beyond this run on paragraph is that over the course of my entire existence I can count on my two hands the rooms in which I wasn’t the smartest and one hand since my dad died twenty-eight years ago this month.  Few people around me truly understand that and fewer still that accept it.  And none of them are comfortable with it.  All this evident by the fact that everyone thinks I’m making a mistake quitting a good job to cash-out my 401(K) while I, having the pertinent information and the knowledge of my circumstance to say nothing of, well, knowledge, everyone around me having no such knowledge are not the least bit qualified to criticize anything I do.

     This may seem to be rantey but surely by now you know my style.  Here’s something to be more fun now.  Whilst packing for the move it turns out that I have about one-hundred and eight gallons of board games and card games each.  And one-hundred and sixty-two gallons of books.  I’ve always been a single, middle-aged man what’s dying alone but I can’t quite lockdown what this statement says about me.  Am I fun and free spirited or pathetically preparing for a time when I may again have friends with whom to play games?  Feel free to chime in on this point with your thoughts.  Personally, I’m hoping it makes me look fun.

     I’ll be working on my various writing projects that I’ve started over the last few years what without the regular distraction of gainful employment.  In particular I’m working out the script for my first hour.  As of right now I’m operating as though it’ll be titled My Family’s Funeral: the Eulogies I Didn’t Get to Say.  Yeah, tons of fun, for everyone!  I anticipate an increasing appreciation for dark comedy again.  Huzzahs for Tim!

Sorry, I just remembered the last thing I wrote here.  I’m not dead, just distracted and lazy.  I’ve been packing up some of the shit in my apartment and trying to figure out some things with my cars and paying for this move.  I can’t wait to get out of this shithole state back home where I belong.  Especially being on the with other people who know what the fuck they’re doing.  One of the bigger problems I’m looking at right now is a considerable number of pieces of fragile glassware and the three dozen or so statues I’ve collected.  I have some thoughts on how to pack them but ya know, until the job is done, counting eggs and hatching as such.  And while I have a place in line, my move-in date is still a little up in the air.  So, if anyone has a couch and/or shower I could borrow from time to time in the next couple months, all offers are welcome.

     Anyway, I’ve been rewatching Young Justice the last couple days.  I put it on to try and get to sleep and then I kept falling asleep far sooner than anticipated.  It’s taken me about a day and a half to get through one season.  And yes, that’s slow for me especially watching a show with twenty-something minute runtimes.  But sweet damn!  The writing on this show is fantastic!  Greg Weismann is extraordinarily talented.  I’ve been meaning to collect more comics written by him but with the money situation lately.  In any case, I’m sure I already have some books he wrote.  Maybe I’ll have some time soon to thumb through my boxes after I get everything moved.  This is one of those shows that always make me want throw some dice and create new characters with the MSHRPG system.  I am actively channeling that energy into my desire for the new MMRPG system so, I’m thinking up how to translate these characters into that game.  It’s been easier to do convert a lot of characters from other media into this game, especially with the X-MEN Expansion.  I’m excited to see what get next with the Spider-Verse Expansion.  We all know that Spider-man has always been MY guy.  I’d always related far too much to Peter Parker.  Infinitely more so when dad died.  There’s something profound that happens to a person when they lose someone like that.  End of this month it’ll be 28 years since dad died and I still can’t describe the how that event changed me.  I remember just about every moment of that day.  I consciously recognized in the moment that I was feeling numb, I understand better now that my body was in shock.  Since then, though, a lot of things are not the same as before then.  I’m sure that’s a whole article to itself so, I’ll leave on that for now.

     Aside from everything else, I’ll need to work out the logistics of starting up Redstone Diaries back home when I get there.  I can’t wait to get there and start finding new players to join us.  So, until next time.

OK, I’m doing a little better now.  I’m still down but starting to swing up.  The suicidal thoughts are getting to be fewer now.  I’ve decided that I’m moving back to LA by the end of the year.  I’ve a got a lead on a place to live, and the work situation is a little hazy still, but the biggest pain in the ass with all this is packing.  Turns out that I’ve collected a lot of shit.  So far I’ve loaded down five 27 gal. totes with just my board games.  Yeah, pain in the ass.  On the other hand, I saw Kevin Smith last night at Wiseguys Downtown.  If you haven’t seen him in a live show like this, you’re doing yourself a grave disservice.  I wasn’t a fan of right away.  His first movie I saw was Chasing Amy.  And in retrospect, I just realized how much that film informed certain perceptions, let’s say imposed on me as a child.  I wouldn’t say I’m less an asshole but rather more an asshole oriented for comedic effect.  And now, of course I enjoy the Clerks movies for all the obvious reasons and Dogma in particular with my greater comprehension of organized religion.  My point is that you should take the time to catch his live performances whenever you can.  You will not be disappointed.

     Back to my moving to LA.  Like I wrote last week, I’ve lost too much time and too many people for me keep dicking around here.  The big things that I’ve always wanted in life were never a possibility for me living in utah.  I should have figured out how to make this happen years ago.  Maybe I could have gotten the things I really wanted.  No, I’m not telling you what exactly I’m referring to.  It’s none of your damn business.  Point is, I’m moving back to LA finally.  It’s been too long and the last time I got to go home was for a funeral so, mixed feelings.  And now I need to figure out exactly what the rules for home recording studios so I can rebuild Quiet Treats soon after getting back in town.  So, if anyone reading this has experience and/or someone I can talk to about this sort of thing, I’d really appreciate the help.  And then I just remembered that I needed to make a phone call to try and figure out the money to make this happen.  The timing is going to be tight soooo, if anyone felt like contributing any funds to my moving venture, I’ll create resin sculptures for you.  Fell free to e-mail me here with the contact page and we work out what you want me to make you for your contribution.  Let’s say right now $5 for a small pyramid.  I have a bunch of glow-in-the-dark and color changing pigments.  So, yeah, money would be super helpful to get my ass back home to LA.

     Anyway, I have some corn dogs that are done cooking and I just noticed earlier that I missed a few words in my last post.  I’m debating whether to repost is with the corrections or just leave it as-is.  In any case, I mentioned here that I fucked up so, my conscience is clear.  Damnit, almost hit 600 words exactly.

I know, the website says ‘comedy’ shed radio but this one is gonna be pretty heavy.  This article is definitely more of a shed conversation.  I decided that I’m moving back to LA.  I never wanted to leave and I banished to utah at a time that was objectively THE worst possible thing for me.  I’ve been stuck here for over twenty years.  More than two decades I lost with the people who are the most important to me, people who cared about me and took care of me.  And now I’ve lost some of those people having not told them the things I should have…not even getting to say good bye.  I decided that I’m moving back by January.  So, of course, the daring and well thought out plan I mapped is already falling apart.  I’ve come to a junction were the only way I can afford to make it happen would would require letting go of the safety line that I’m counting on to be able to support myself, and isn’t entirely certain in and of itself.

     I spent most of today submitting applications and trying to figure out how to make this happen.  I haven’t been in a good place for a very long time.  I often make jokes about being able to count my good days.  It’s not a joke.  Seven.  That’s how many ‘good’ days I’ve experienced in my life.  And fuck you, I’m not telling you what they are.  You haven’t earned that.  Inevitably, there were thousands of bad days to drag me down, grinding me into the concrete.  Once in awhile I remember good things and then I break down weeping all night.  It seems I spend each waking moment reliving my entire existence.  Which is great, what with the lifetime of insomnia.  You’re right, that is in fact not as much fun as it sounds.  I needed a break earlier and started watching the new season of Shrinking.  In fairness, I was watching the new episode of Silo because I have a not-so-secret crush on Rebecca Ferguson but I forgot that Apple TV+ releases episodes one at a time, and then is shifted to Shrinking and I’d forgotten how rough it is for me to watch this show.  It’s hard watching shows like this and recognizing your own bullshit.

     I’ll be honest, ya know…more than usual.  The suicidal thoughts have been more intrusive lately.  For context, thinking about killing myself has pretty well been my default setting since I was thirteen, at least.  There have been times when the thoughts are more prominent, or constant.  Usually, I manage.  I acknowledge the thought, I feel what I need to feel, and then I move on.  It’s hard sometimes to get past it but the last couple months have been harder than usual.  I had other things I was going to write before I nodded off and now I can’t recall exactly what I was going to say here.  The things I really wanted in life I didn’t get to have because I spent my teens and twenties working a series of dead-end, no-paying jobs that ate all my time and energy and left me no money to get by because that whole time I had to fix the shit my “mother” did to my name and credit.  I was getting to be ‘ok’ when I was thirty-eight, and then everything turned to shit again when I tried to help someone who just took advantage of me.  I have actively tried to be happy and it never worked.  I’ve never fit in anywhere, certainly not this shithole state but my friends genuinely cared for me and I was isolated from them for over two decades.

     Sorry, this is clearly why I don’t have anyone anymore to unload on like this.  I missed out on a lot of things for a very long time.  Really, more than anything I find myself hoping that All-Purpose-Plan-B can relocate me to a specific point in time and perhaps that go around I can actually learn to advocate for myself, get the hell out of the church shit, and in turn have more sex when I could have.  Despite everything there are people I love.  A lot of them dead but the ones who aren’t and they need to know that.  And this way is more convenient than having actual conversations with them and avoids they calling the hotline.  Thanks.