The Red Shirt has to die so we can be free to live.

I have moved here because myspace blogging is SO last year.
Blogger is the new Black. And I am The man in Black. Rather, I wear a lot of it. I'm either Emo or Johnny Cash incarnate. Maybe both. I do wear a lot of black...

I was approached to do some sort of performance at CONvergence this year.
It was by an old friend's girlfriend who runs Connies Spacelounge. Most of my friends don't know what the hell I am talking about when I say "CONvergence". Or "Connie" or "SpaceLounge" or "Friend" or "Girlfriend", but for those who do: Pie Heaven. I'm super excited.

What I'm thinking of doing will be fun and full of improv-ish special-ness. With a twist of Sci-Fi/Fantasy Lime. More on that topic after I get done with the "Confessions of a Fringe Technician" script.

July 4th Weekend. Mark it in your Tricorders, Geeks.

Remember how I mentioned "Confessions of a Fringe Technician" in this blog just a few lines ago? It was fun, I know. Just like summer camp and 4-H meetings. So that is the title for the show for this year's festival.
It's all written by me this time. No help from John like in 'Jaws The Musical!'
It's all about the festival from the Tech's point of view. drawn from my experiences at The Minnesota Fringe Festival when The Brave New Workshop was a venue.
I hope it's funny and that people like it, but people are people so why should it be that we should get along so awfully? Depeche Mode said that. Not me. But it's true. You and I don't get along.

Just kidding. We're still the best of friends!

I was just made aware while standing outside, that I have Rick Springfield-Only-Blonde hair today.
I could have Jessie's Girl, but she is a slut & has pink eye.
Remember when I rhymed the word 'Moot' with 'Cute' a few lines ago? Wait, that was Rick Springfield.
I wish it was still the 80's so more than 30% of the readers of my missives could get that reference. But if it were the 80's, I would be writing this with a pencil and paper, submitting it to my best friend's 'zine' that he calls INCUBUS WITHIN.
(my best friend. Let's call him 'Jazz'. Like the Autobot. His given name would be Jeremy)

THE 'ZINE.
A WORK OF SHORT FICTION.

After school, we went to his house. He lived in the townhomes that were in front of the apartment building where my Mom and I lived. I could look out the front door of my building and see the crosstown freeway. We lived in the back of the building, so we faced the garages that the people in the townhomes rented. Just wanted to give you an idea of where I am. I sit on the balcony and have a smoke, look at the garages and think about life. My name is LAZER. I am 7 years old. Already, I can tell that I am getting too old for this shit. I write for a 'zine that my best friend Jazz makes. His Mom works in the offices at Richfield Lutheran Church. It's where I go to Sunday School, unless my Mom thinks I am sick. Then we watch Church on TV. I like those days best because then I get to watch 'The Snorks' I love that show. Smurfs underwater. Funny as hell.
So we are at his townhome, and we're about to talk about the next issue, when we decide to play go-bots versus M.A.S.K versus G.I. Joe versus He-Man.
My team isn't the best because they are all his toys and he gets first choice.
Jazz is kind of a dick.
But he does have all the Construct-a-Cons & he doesn't like them, so I get all those. Sometimes I think he forgets that you can make a big ass robot from all of those guys. Fucking moron.
After we play, we start to work on the 'zine. 'Incubus Within' was started to teach all of the other 4th graders about the Minneapolis Underground music scene and all the bullshit that was happenning in DC with Reagan running things with his Voodoo economics. What the 'zine evolved into was a piece of paper with some drawings of awesome transformers and some funny bits about how our Math teacher was a bitch from the word go. I just hope that Emily Post sees one and starts to like me. She is the cutest girl ever.
It was a good 'zine, and Jazz's Mom let us use the church mimeograph that they didn't use anymore because they got something called a xerox. That fucker was as big as a room.
Still, we didn't complain. We got so messed up from the fumes of the mimeo that we often ended up running around the empty church, blowing out the eternity candle and trying to fight demons that were climbing the high walls and ceiling of the narthex and sanctuary. Still, our 'zine was pretty popular. Jazz kept saying that we should try to get Arise! bookshop to distribute it. Sadly, we weren't allowed to take city busses alone. Let alone go into the Uptown area. Arise! would have to wait.
We were just about done with our radical drawings, when his Mom called us down to watch the shuttle takeoff. Haley's comet had just passed through our solar system the year before, so we were all a little space nuts. I had taken to eating those freeze dried packets of ice cream that the astronauts had. I was also obsessed with the how's and why's of the demise of Spacelab. But that is another tale.
The shuttle takeoff was sweet. Like Magnum PI sweet. But a few seconds after liftoff, the whole thing exploded. Jazz started crying. So did his Mom. I just quietly said 'Holy Shit.'
Then, in an act of irony that was not unheard of, the fire alarm went off in their townhome.
Jazz looked like he was gonna shit his pants, but I saw it as an opportunity to get outside and smoke a Joint.
We ran outside and got to a safe distance while Jazz's Mom took the burnt crescent rolls out of the oven. There are two things that are funnier than anything: Girls who fart & Moms who say 'Fucking Fuckity Fuck Shit' when snacks get burnt.
Once it was safe, we decided to go back in and re-do the 'zine as a tribute to The blown up shuttle.
Instead, we ended up playing lazer tag and looking at his new Hermit Crab while his bitch of an older sister listened to that new Madonna song for like three trillion times. There are few things that you need to know, I think if you are a 7 year old in the 1980's:
Your friends Mom needs to burn more stuff.
Transformers are always gonna be better than Go-Bots.
Tragedy happens all around, making it hard to remember that triumphs, no matter how small, happen all around as well.
And Older sisters are dumb. Madonna is not that great.
Emily Post is the most beautiful girl in the world.
And Andre The Giant is the coolest.

THE END

So here is my first blog on a site other than myspace and livejournal.
As it is Monday, I would like to recommend coming to
The Monday Night Comedy Show
at The Beat Coffeehouse
1414 West 28th Street
1/2 block east of Hennepin in Uptown.

Doors open at 7:30pm

8:00pm show.

Admission is $3

we have buttons for sale for .50 or 2 for $1
All proceeds go to the Buttonmaker. MNCS doesnt make any money on them. I just want more people to talk about the show.

Next week is our 1 year anniversary PROM!
Dress up in formal wear or something similar, and you get in for $2
We will have slow dancing and crown a king & Queen.
Pictures will be available in the lobby.
Then I will post them on our facebook page.


But come to the show tonight for Improv & Stand up.
Then come to The Green Mill for Drinks.

Hope you have a wonderful day, and thanks for switching over to this site with me.

Stay Awesome,
Andy