Man, I have been on the road way way way to long. Pretty much since the middle of
January and I'm exhausted. I used to think this job would be so much fun and don’t get me
wrong the performing is great but the travel is just a killer. It’s especially hard for me to
be on the road because I’m pretty anti social so whereas other people go to the local bar
and talk to strangers and have sex with hotel prostitutes, I just hide in my room, eat my
Subway hero and watch Court TV. Now if that’s
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Me at every airport.
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not the glamorous life what is?
I’m constantly checking in and out of hotels, hitting my head on towel racks in strange
bathrooms and worst of all getting searched constantly by irritating security people who
don’t seem to realize that in the history of the world no cute American comedians have
ever piloted planes into buildings.
I can solve our security problem right now, one question “How do you feel about this Allah fella?” Answer
any of the following: “I would die for him, death to America, god is
great, long live falafel!” and you have to walk. Problem solved, no more terrorisim and/or
guys who don't wear deodorant sitting next to you on the flight.
The other day I actually heard people through the walls of my hotel having sex. The
woman kept yelling out “Oh yeah do that, oh yeah do that, right there, do that!” and then
she would scream for about 10 minutes. It was killing me because I was like “What the hell is he doing? I gotta know
what he's doing!" I wanted so badly to bang on the wall like "Can you describe what you're
doing, could you write it out for me and slide it under my door?" I mean I'm pretty good at
what I do, but this guy was like the Einstein of the vagina and I wanted in on the info" All I
ever did as a kid was read sex
manuals like they were encyclopedias trying to garner as much
information on the female creature as possible. It’s funny though, after all that time I think I’ve pretty
much come to the conclusion that all women really want is a massage. Every
girl I'm with I'm like, "Come on baby, tell me what you want?" "Fine, I'll go get the lotion."
Speaking of massaging and sex, these journals are getting harder and harder to write
because I just found out my friggin Mom discovered them and has been reading every
one.
How am I supposed to brag about all the hot ladies I’m meeting on the road when my
Mom is calling up asking me if I’m using condoms. Man, this is getting too weird, I
think from now on my journals will just consist of me
giving recipes for nutbread or something.
I know the Superbowl is long gone but I haven’t even posted a journal since it
happened so I did want to put in a few cool pictures. God this is a fun job. I actually now have celebrated two
Superbowls on the field with the winning team.
This one was by far the best though because the Patriots actually knew who I was and
were high fiving me and picking me up. I guess all those lonely nights in hotel rooms are
worth it when guys on the winning superbowl team yell your name and pick you up. Man I
have a fun life, again I have to say ignoring my Dad and going after this “pipe dream” (his
exact words) was the best thing I ever could have done. I think that’s the best advice I
could give anyone, just ignore everything your Dad says. I mean, they’re Dads,
they’re good to go out and pick up Chinese food but stay away from them
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Bluefish and me Superbowl 38…I know, you wish you were my friend too.
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when it comes to career advice.
Bluefish also got to go with me to his second Superbowl so of course I am clearly the best
friend anyone could have. How lucky is he that he was nice to me in Elementary school
when everyone else thought I was annoying. People always ask me what I
was like in school. I wasn’t really the class clown, the class
clown is usually some idiot cool kid who makes fart noises in the back of the class. I was
much more mature than that. I remember the first time I discovered I liked performing was
in English class when we were all reading this story and everyone would take a turn
reading a chapter. One day this kid asked the teacher if I could just do all the
reading because he said I made it funny the way I told it. The teacher refused and then the
whole class started chanting “We want Mitch, we want Mitch” and finally the teacher said
“Okay, go ahead Mitch” and the class applauded. I remember for the first time feeling
really special. After that every English class we used to start out with me reading a
chapter to the class. Since I was so small and bad at sports I finally found something that
made me cool. I knew at that moment that I would always be a performer. Wow, I just told
a very serious story with no sexual overtones…that’s unlike me, I
guess I should even it out with a sex story from school. Here's a good one. The Sylvia
Jackson story, oooh sweet Sylvia.
Sylvia Jackson was easily the hottest girl in seventh grade and she had these incredible
breasts way before any other girls did. They weren't even big, they were just..just perfect.
One day she wore a tight blue terry cloth shirt to school. Terry cloth, of course being the
fabric of choice for vixens. I just sat through the entire class staring at these exquisite works of art encased in this
skintight garment. Finally I just couldn’t take it
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Sylvia's yearbook photo, how hot is she?
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anymore, the magic of the terry cloth got to me and I just
reached over and touched one. I can still, so many years later, feel that
heavenly mound in my pre-teen hand. The relief at finally having known what it felt like to
be alive. I savored these few seconds of ecstacy, knowing that soon Sylvia's screams
would be resonating throughout the class alerting everyone to my perversion. However,
those screams never came. To this day I will always love and adore Sylvia for not freaking
out. She just looked over at me
confused and said “Mitch, what are you doing?” I was like, “I’m sorry Sylvia I just
had to do it.” I think she actually felt my pain because in one of the greatest displays of
generosity ever shown a human being she simply replied, “Okay, but don’t do it again.”
How incredible is that? How amazing is Sylvia Jackson? She could have seriously
humiliated me in front of the whole entire class but
chose the higher road and for that I will always always be grateful. Sylvia, you rock! If you’re out there I owe
you a dinner and if you wear that same terry cloth shirt then I'll bring you to the next
Superbowl! (Sorry Bluefish, but you remember Sylvia)
One more quick item. I just received a cool E-mail from someone at St. Andrews college in
North Carolina. That was one of the schools I performed at during this long tour. I
must have really made an impression because they sent me these pics of graffiti
that was found on their campus following my show.
I'm sorry but that is so cool! Ten years ago when I started doing comedy who could have
ever known that people would be writing my bits around their college campus. I have to admit that
made me feel really good about myself. So good I’m going to go masturbate right now and
think about Sylvia’s hot terry cloth shirt…and don’t worry Mom I promise I'll use a condom.
Mitch
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