Last Call!

Well, it's the final weekend of the play about my life. Friday and Saturday are your last opportunities to get an up-close, intimate (albeit manufactured) peek into my life. There are some talks with various people of import that the show may find a new life down the road in some better weather conditions - I can say no more on that topic. But as we all know, nothing in life is guaranteed except for the end. And I see my train a coming. I do plan on being in attendance tonight, assuming I'm not called to secret, peacekeeping duties elsewhere. But the plan is to be there. Before then I will be making a guest appearance at an institute of higher learning where I will be stinging the bee.

However, during this sad occasion do note that I left you with a little gift, a picture of Britney from her Mouseketeer days. Do unto others as you would have them to do unto you, assuming of course we lived in a world where people cared about doing others.

FREE BEER!!

Need I say more?

Okay, it's tonight, Monday, January 26, at 7pm. Show up! Bring your thirst and your laugh to 540 E. 105 St.

A Call to Action

Being in the limelight is very tiring. So much so, it makes me want to take a vacation with JD Salinger. But watching the play has opened up some old wounds, and suddenly I have vengeance on my mind. I think I might be on the lookout for a certain pair of gentlemen who are in the business of recouping hamburger payments. No one does that to Mr. Cleveland Brown and gets away with it.

Back Atcha!

So I took the weekend off from the blog. I hope everyone's okay, and that my absence didn't dishearten you too much. I saw the play Friday. It was awesome. I think everyone should see it. I did speak with the writer afterwards and mention there are some things I would have done differently...but...hey...I can't fault him for not being Vince. Also, I liked the guy who played me a lot. I thought he did a great job. But he's not as good looking or as muscular as I am. But again, you can't fault him for not being Vince. Everyone did a great job and I think you should check it out, especially on Free Beer Monday, January 26th at 7pm. You might just see me there...

Breal a Leg, Ye Scottish Playas.

This is one of the reasons why theatre drives me crazy. Somehow that playwright got a hold of my phone number and called to see if I was coming to see his play about my life. “Uh, yeah, read my blog,” I said. Anyway, then I wish him good luck, seemed like the nice thing to do. Then the dude freaks out on me. “Good luck, Good luck, you’re supposed to say break a leg,” then he hangs up, and as far as I can tell took a bath in garlic and tomato juice. And theatre people wonder why the rest of the world thinks they are freaks. I suppose writers are especially…troubled. So anyway, break a leg. I’m closing in on Cleveland and the temperature is a beautiful

12 degrees BELOW zero

Don’t you wish you lived in Cleveland? After all, New York may be the Big Apple, but Cleveland’s a plum. Don’t lose sight of the left, right, left rule, especially in these trying times.

Welcome To Fantasy Island!

Tomorrow is Opening Night, and I got the jitters – but not for the reason you think. Yesterday, as a tribute to the late great Ricardo Montalban (<-- wiki entry), I took my Chrysler Cordoba with rich Corinthian leather for a ride, and, man, I just kept driving. And the whole time, I couldn’t stop thinking about my wife and this affair she’s having with the Alien. Then I started talking to myself out loud in an accent very similar to Ricardo’s, and before I knew it I had driven until I saw the sign you see here. And now I have no idea where I'm at. When I left, the temperature was a bone-snapping 2 degrees, and now I’m wiping the sweat from my brow as I look for an answer to all of life’s nagging questions, most notably: Why do I feel so lost?

Are You Experienced?

Here’s a flyer I found about the play. It’s kind of cool, but that's clearly not me in the picture. My hands are much more understanding. That’s the thing I hate about theatre. It’s not real. It’s just people acting like someone else. I mean, why didn’t they contact me to play the role of me? Can anyone possibly do a better job than I would? It’s not like acting is hard, right? Say some lines, walk around, change clothes. And why didn’t I just write the thing? I could have saved everybody a lot of time by just walking onstage and telling them what happened. If I don’t like this play, I’m going to stuff that playwright into a locker from whence he will never return. I wonder if Britney Spears is being played by Britney Spears or by an actress. I bet if Britney Spears were playing herself she’d be using a pseudonym. Remember, when the blizzard hits, your one true saving grace is Jimi Hendrix. Have you ever been to Electric Ladyland?

And Now We Know...

There it is. It looks innocent enough, doesn’t it? And it certainly does not look like a theatre. But, apparently, inside those walls is where the play THE BLOGGER will be produced. It’s being produced by Fourth Wall Productions and was written, as I suspected, by Greg Vovos. I never paid him much mind in high school. But that just goes to show you, just because you don’t pay someone much mind doesn’t mean their mind ain’t working much. You would think I would be upset about this, but I am not. If it brings people to my blog then God bless us everyone. Though I don’t attend any plays or things like that or donate money to museums or orchestras, I do support the arts – in theory. But I will go see this play. And review it. I have posted all the details, as I know ‘em, on the right side of my blog, just below my poll.

PS Please Keep Commenting and Voting!!

Shocking Poll Update

I'm amazed that as of now more of you voted that I choose Babe-A-Quer-Que over Britney. You do realize I'm talking about Britney Spears, right? Everyone has heard of Britney, I assume. The most mouskerific of all mousketeers! In case you haven't heard of her, I have provided some reference for you to the left of my blog. Don't worry though. I will not let my readers down.

Out Of This World

So I don't think I've told you this yet, but my wife is having an emotional affair...with an Alien. Apparently, she talks to him quite a bit. And on many occasions, I am the main topic. The Alien is worried about me, he's not happy with my choices or actions. And Pamela's doing everything in her power to try to help me find the light, but...alak. Last night she got out of bed at 3am, and walked outside into the cold winter moonlight, wearing only her nightgown. She was actually quite beautiful standing there with the moon reflecting off her and the snow. When she came back to bed I acted like I was asleep. Then she started to chant. When we woke up this morning she asked me if I ever had the urge to walk into the light. I kept chewing my Crunch Berries and acted like I didn't hear her. It is a loud cereal, after all. If there really is life in outer space, what could they possible see in us?

The Dangers of High School

I think I have isolated the individual who has taken a study of my personal life for his own selfish gain. I used to go to high school with him. I have a distinct memory of his wearing bright orange corduroy pants and being stuffed in a locker. He was the second shortest kid in a school of almost 2000 kids. But still he smiled. We never had any sort of relationship so I can't imagine why he has taken these actions. Once I am sure I will reveal his identity, but I am not one to put the carrot before the cart.

If one is unable to converse or share consciousness with their alter personalities, how can one ever be sure that he himself does or does not have multiple personalities?

Blizzard Conditions

I have reason to believe this is all going down in the town of my birth, which leads me to surmise that someone I know is behind all this. Of course, I could be wrong. This whole thing is kind of creepy, but on the same point, there's a part of me that really likes it. When up is down and down is up what is the middle?

Art Stealing Life?!

I have serious reason to believe that someone has written a play about my life, and that they will be producing it soon. I stumbled across this:

The Blogger
January 16th - January 31st
Vince decides to start a blog that takes him around the country while juggling a love triangle between his wife and Britney Spears in an exploration of self worth and creativity.

The details sound a helluva lot like my life. So either it's some kind of play or something, or some sicko is planning on broadcasting my life somehow, unbeknownst to me. The scary part is it ends on January 31. And then what? What about me? What happens?

Long Live The King

It was on this day in 1935 that King Elvis was born in Tupelo, MISS ISS IPP I. Some folks think he broke on through to the other side. I know better. I feel the desert sun of Vegas calling me on.

No, I'm alive.

There is only one real Vince. And I am he. The blogger extraordinaire. All the rest are cheap mimiographed, carbon copies, products of alien intervention, spousal imagings, and a fiscally irresponsible goverment. I am here. I am here. I can save us all... Has anyone ever wondered how that Billie Mays guy doesn't lose his voice?

I'M ALIVE!

Day One of my blog. I think people have been following me. With notepads. Trying to steal my life. I won't allow them. I'll steal my own life. Remember, take hold of yourself, you're the only one you got, besides others...if there are others. Watch for more Vince.