Nothings Funny

Brief Update

2009-10-25T07:11:00.000-07:00

Been pretty busy since Edinburgh... Lots of shows! Lots of travel... a couple of meetings...

It's been a nice couple of months, and some great stuff coming up; Like the Magner's Competition shows, The Glee club and Manchester Comedy store on New Years eve. Check out the new dates in my on tour page.

Also my first Stand Up appearance on British TV on Channel 4 on Oct 25th at 11pm, on a show called the Best of Brighton comedy festival.

Hope you get a chance to catch me at one of my shows.

Cheers,

Pete

Day something... Edinburgh...yeah.

2009-08-15T07:25:00.000-07:00

Holy McMoly this place is a roller-coaster ride of feelings and emotions.

It's been a little over a week and not much has changed. My show numbers go up and down with little or no predictability. On the days supposed to be slow I did pretty good, then last night rolled around and my numbers plummeted on a friday? The only difference being that it was raining like crazy. Which sucks cause I can't control the rain anymore.

Also weirdly I got two four star reviews right away, but then no more reviews have come out. Which I don't understand cause I keep getting told reviews are at my shows. Do they come and just not comment? It's weird...

And more than weird is stress. So stressful. People keep telling me to have a good time and enjoy myself. Then those same people tell me I gotta get out there and hustle. Which I don't understand. Then they tell me not to stress. Huh?

All my guest spots are going great up here. Doing Late and Live tonight, BBC Stand up tomorrow. Yesterday did WMD benefit, and Chix with Guns, all fun shows.

Went to the Loft bar and hung out with the lovely Tiernan Douieb and his girlfriend (Who counts his drinks! Ha!) and my wife (who counts the random cigarettes i might have, no ha!). Finally ran into Greg Berehendt who unbelievably looks younger than when I last saw him ten years ago. Amazing! Had a nice talk with Janeane Garafalo and we reminisced of the old days in Los Angeles and the awful things happening with the Health Care debacle in the US. And ended on the humorous fact she cleans her hotel room before the maid gets the chance. Thats just a little fucked up. Thats what i love about hotels, and mom's for that matter. Anyways, having one fault makes one more interesting.

The Girls with guns show was really nice, i got to be onstage with one of my favorite people Zoe Lyons. She oozes charm, and her entire set was about food, which makes my heart swell as we share a common love. Lucy Porter and Tiffany Stevenson also did great sets, but I was zonked at that point and had to hit the hay.

I texted my manager on the way home to see if the reviewer he was talking to after my show liked it and he never replied. And that no reply hit like a thump. It just feels like a no. So I was a little down when I went to bed, then awoke did Edcom at the Pleasance and rocked. It's better than coffee for lifting your spirits.

So there's my journal/blog for the last day or two. Will continue later:) Cheers

Day 6 i lost a couple days there....

2009-08-12T03:56:00.000-07:00

Ah come on don't judge! It's not like I have been consistent writing my blog before now, sometimes I forget. Sometimes I get involved in things that distract me. Sometimes i stare with ambivalence at the keyboard as if I couldn't care if the keys were to drown in front of me I would not lend a hand... Fuck you Phil collins, and get out of my blog...

OK, so my belly is permanently sticking out in a ball. I know there is other news to speak of, but this is concerning me. I have not been drinking enough to have a beer belly, and lets be honest, i'm more likely to get a tequila belly (which I assume would have thorns). But as this whole move into a foreign town for a month is upsetting to ones base comfort levels, I have found myself 'comfort eating' of late. Pizza, pasta, sandwiches (Greg's no less), Quiche, and as I have gone pseudo vegetarian, carbs have been piling up! I am pretty sure thats why I have been unbelievably lethargic. I don't crave meat though. I imagine this is the feeling that guys who go to Gay conversion camps never feel.

The days have been beautiful, and I always think I'm gonna go out to the park and kick the ball around. But i am held hostage by the swarms of local hornets and wasps. Is there no bird or animal that eats them that we can introduce? I am all for fucking with the eco system so I can enjoy a picnic someday.

Sleep schedule is the last point of my health issues I want to address. There is no way to predict when I get to sleep, and I have always been a 10hour a nighter. I know that seems indulgent, but who'll be laughing when I live to a hundred and forty. Some mornings I gotta get up at nine, then the next night do a show at 2am. I have a very sensitive circadian rhythm to maintain, in fact its the only rhythm I have. So this unnatural cycle makes me feel crazy and require endless naps.

I sound like fun!

It has been pretty good outside my body though the last couple days. I now have two four star reviews by some pretty decent sources which is really nice. I have been told I am getting great word of mouth. And after a near sell out weekend and good numbers over whats considered the slow days, I might actually break even! Hell, if I start to fill up more during the week, I could still make a profit, but I'm not gonna start spending my money yet... Although I do want the new iphone, and its a chore to not just go get one.

My wife has been amazing through all this. It's funny, cause I'm as moody as being pregnant. So thats how we are trading this off. I get one month a year of being crazy for nine years, and she gets all of hers in a row.

I am gonna start watching some other shows this week too. I have a list, I wanna catch Greg Berehndts as he is an old pal from my LA days, and I always remember what a brilliant comic he was. He used to have this bit about his girlfriend trying to make him suck a black dildo, and he wanted to say know, but he didn't want to seem racist... very funny. I am gonna check out JJ Whiteheads show at the Stand at 4pm as well. There are a bunch of shows I can't see as they conflict with my showtime, like Mark Walker's Scorpio. That would be cool to see, as I am a Scorpio. But I am anti-magic. And Astrology does walk the line of the Dark Arts, but it looks really interesting!

So it's wednesday, and I am enjoying myself. Over the next couple days, I will probably get naked in public for no good reason, do a whole bunch of guest spots, eat numerous sandwich's from baguette time, and do some more really wonderful shows for some wonderful audiences.

I'll try not to ramble so much next time. Cheers.

Day 3 This is getting a little crazy now...

2009-08-09T02:47:00.001-07:00

I knew saturday was gonna be weird cause I woke before my alarm went off at 9:20 am. I fuckin hate that. I need that extra 30 minutes sleep but my panicky mind doesn't trust my quick getting dressed skills. I put on the three articles of clothes I wear in the day. Shorts(no underwear) Shirt, and flipflops (they count as one) and trekked to grab a quad Americano and head to Andre Vincent's and Marcus Brigstocke's to prep for Early Edition.

I arrived to find them up and chipper and half way through the stack of Papers. I also met Carrie Ann Quinlan, who I quietly love. We read and drank coffee for two hours. Making short jokes and discussing the news and politics. It was very enjoyable prep.

When we got there, the line up was impressive and thats when they told me they paid... I was floored. Making money in Edinburgh is rare and lovely, and that gave me the extra boost to try harder.

The show was so cool, smart crowd, some great jokes off the headlines. I even got some zingers in. I was particularily impressed with Carrie, I guess thats cause I never saw her perform before, I knew Andre and Markus are real good. So it was a pleasure to watch her too!

Anyways, that went well, and after I talked to Andre and thanked him for having me. As a joke I said, "I know you had alot of reservations" and he with all seriousness said, no it wasn't me, it was Markus, but he was really happy with how you did... ! I thought that was hilarious.

Did a radio show, that was way better than the Leith FM experience. The DJ's were soo young they blushed when they swore and the girls shyness was so charming and difficult all in one:)

Ran into Jack Whitehall again, who obviously read my blog yesterday as he quickly brought up my wifes tits, which I appreciate. He is such a nice boy.

Ran into Zoe Lyons, and we talked on the street for quite a bit, she is the coolest ladies. She didn't realize it was my wife on the cover of Diva magazine when she bought it, and then we discussed the embarrassment and beauty of the photo spread. We both aknowledged the futility of trying not to party, and she had some great stories of excess. No comic makes me happier to see than Zoe.

I got to the show and snuck a beer in to save the extra two pounds it costs with even my discount. And my room was very warm and the mic was broken, and no chair. But hey, no biggie we got it sorted.

The room started to fill. And it kept filling. And Court kept looking at me wondering if we should start the music, but they just kept coming... until it was full. Damn.

The show was good. It was not the fun playful show of the day before though, it was actually work. They were good, but not easy, and there was some stuff that just didn't click I felt.

But after they gave a huge applause, and many bought CD's. So I didn't beat myself up to much.

Plus afterwards i saw on my poster I had gotten a four star review which is nice. But I didn't want to investigate anymore.

Somebody bought me a Sol, and I ran into JJ Whitehead, who's show I can't wait to see at the Stand, and I got drunk. Only two beer. Then went up and did a spot at the Cow Cafe, and shocked and appalled them after all the singy songy comedy they had heard. But they loved it the dirty bastards. Then home.

We did argue on the way home me and my wife, cause this particularly fighty looking Scots man kept insulting the chicken we bought. (I know how weird that sounds) but my wife kept answering him! And I kept motioning for her to ignore him. And she said she could handle this, but as every guy on earth knows, this ends in us fighting not them.

Finally I pull her away from the confrontation and I explain why its so important to ignore drunk/crazy people unless they pose an acute danger to you or others, but she insisted that she was right. And in the end, what the fuck can I say? Fine. You're right.

Talk later, lets see how sunday is:)

Day 2 Second Show in Edinburgh, picking up:)

2009-08-07T15:29:00.000-07:00

It was lovely.

As I start to relax it's starting to become quite enjoyable. I ran into some great folk today, Jack Whitehall was getting a sandwich at the local shop and it was lovely. I think he doesn't like my wife cause he stares deep into my eyes rather than at her. Puzzling. I heard his show is quite spectacular. But if he doesn't stare at my wifes tits, I'm not so sure.

I haven't had a chance to see anyone yet, but I will starting Sunday, as tomorrow is gonna be busy. Up at 10 to do the Early Edition with Markus Brigstock and Andre Vincent, then nap, then Radio at 7, then nap, show at 8:45 then, then nap, then spot at 10:10. So no drinking or partying tonight, which I woulda loved to have done. Why?

Cause it was a great show, three quarters full, (pullin in alot of young ladies, cause I'm hot) very fun crowd. Came up with a killer line too! Sold CD's and then after...

My buddies from Amsterdam are here! It was soo cool all the staff from Toomler! But I couldn't get crazy cause of stupid responsibilities...

Not the best blog today, but I'm happy. And I am not gonna say anything about numbers anymore cause you guys really told me not to be so lazy yesterday, so I won't.

Cheers, have some fun stuff tomorrow!

Day 1 First Show in Edinburgh...and boy am I gonna lose my shirt, but thats OK.

2009-08-06T15:09:00.000-07:00

I make bad financial decisions. I assume I inherited this from my dad who had a choice to invent in video games in the early 80's or a polyurethane apple box for orchardists that lasted for years instead of plywood ones which last a couple years. Not realizing the orchardists had no inclination to pay hundreds of dollars for something they could build for dollars...

So in the middle of this centuries worst recession I took all my savings and went into 5k of debt to perform in this years Edinburgh festival. And I got some news...

I ain't gonna make it back:)

Its almost a relief though. I was so stressed about it, but now I can deal with the closure. And it sucks a little bit, but I just can't compete with the marketing that surrounds me. I mean as funny and as good as my show is( and it really is). I'm not easily marketed.

I walk around and see posters for all these shows that I would way rather see than mine. Just beautifully artistic pieces, and stunning concept pieces and colorful eyecatching pieces. then mine, which if it was by itself would look ok, but it's an average penis in a well hung gangbang of posters.

And on top of marketing, there are some great name acts here, that makes me think why would anyone come see an unknown like me? The got Rys Darby, Janeane Garafolo, Rhod Gilbert, Russell Kane etc... It almost doesn't make sense to see me.

But there is peace in that. Now I can keep my expectations nice and low. And maybe, the crowds will be wonderful like tonight's was:) small, intimate friendly. And I'll have a wonderful month of delightful shows, where I lose a ton of money. But I get to summer here and see alot of great acts.

So here's to accepting reality. And enjoying the present. Happy apathy. Hapathy:)

Pete J

Going to Edinburgh is neither cheap nor easy-guest blog..

2009-08-04T10:31:00.000-07:00

Day Zero

(I decided to let my wife Courtney start off my daily blogging for the Edinburgh festival as giving view from another perspective. She will be blogging herself about Edinburgh on her own blog. I will do a daily update for the duration of the fest as well as a daily pic to show the wear and tear on ones body and spirit. See you tomorrow for my pre show Jitters post!)

My husbands choice to perform at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival this year was one I supported with every ounce of intellect i possessed. After all I couldn't ask for a better investment, not only do I love this man, but from the very first time i saw him perform i knew i had struck comedy gold. The initial steps towards the Festival started about 4 months out and were pretty simple, picking the venue was like a long math equation of comparing costs from the number of seats to the temperature of the venue, and its location. Choosing the name "Naked Pictures of my Life" was quick, and broad enough that a show could be created in and around it. These simple decisions however quickly turned from being calculable to incredibly trying as we prepared for the photo-shoot. The quick simple name became a struggle as the only feasible poster pictures would need to be, well naked. On the day of the shoot, I started to reevaluate how fast we jumped into Edinburgh as I saw the first glimpse of the emotional strength i would need to be the back bone of a 6 foot four 225 pound Comic. Getting his clothes off in front of the camera wasn't as easy as I usually find it, and I really needed to take the reigns. I powdered his nose, pinched his cheeks and stripped down to my birthday suit. I held my big boys hand and dragged him in front of the camera with me. After a maximum of 10 clicks of the camera he was nude and posing like a professional. In what seemed like minutes we had taken over 300 pictures and were on our way home, he was liberated. Now all he needed was a show. Since his show was going to be an honest look into his own life, he was able to give his imagination a rest and instead search his memory. This was harder than anything proceeding it, he spent countless hours and sleepless nights, not writing, but stressing. The mere thought of opening his entire family history to anyone was completely unfeasible, and not just because it was hard to talk about, but because even when he did, few believed it. Coming from a family with an NHL Stanley Cup winning dad, who is not only Opus Dei catholic but a Le Franciscan Monk to boot, paired with an Emmy Award winning, Olympic basketball playing brother, never made for the most believable stories. At age 20 Pete gave up talking about his family altogether and had always made sure his comedy steered wide and clear of it. The quick easy Edinburgh title struck again, as the posters were printed and people were expecting a show revealing the truth about his history. It was time for me to take his hand again. I figured if i could get him to tell the truth about his family, no holds barred to someone, anyone, he would see just how funny it was. Two months out Pete's manager introduced him to his new press agent, who promptly sat him down to talk about his show, sweating at the palms Pete began his journey towards honesty about the family life he hid so well. By the end of the meeting his press agent was in hysterics, and that was all he needed. A month out his hour long show was complete, the stress was lifting and the light of Edinburgh was gleaming once again. The last month was chalk full of previews and radio shows, enough that the thought of talking about his family wasn't even dawning on him anymore. As he got ready to head to a gig out of town he was informed of a cancellation, this hit hard. Not only were we already scrounging for cash after the thousands of pounds we invested in the next months festival, but we were seriously counting on that money to actually eat. Panicking, Both Pete and I searched for quick work, but as there is a recession and with only 8 hours notice, it was looking grim. That night was tough, I became aware of some other fears he had about Edinburgh, our health, our future, and whether we were taking a step in the wrong direction. We decided to sleep on it. The next day we met with some other comics and heard their stories, some were good, and some were horrific, but while in the midst of conversation he got a call, the Comedy store was looking for a headliner that weekend, was it fate? He promptly left and came home to me with a smile and some cash. We were going to be alright, the only thing left to do was pack our apartment, find a new one, move our stuff and get a train up to Edinburgh, simple.

The end to trickery. Warning-not a funny post...sorry:)

2009-03-25T08:57:00.001-07:00

Some things are just too radicle to even talk about it seems.

Top to bottom news coverage is of the Global financial crisis. The UK is bankrupt. The US is floundering with millions unemployed. China is stalling. The Indian step up into the global economic spotlight put on hold. Everywhere we are told that things are really bad.

Ok.

But what if things just aren't bad?

I mean, sure things are bad if we look at the millions of pieces of paper that other people created without asking us. With agreements that not one of us understood, or would even condone if we could follow the convoluted mathematical principles..

Millions of millions of tricks, hidden from people. Math tricks. Deceptions. A lack of forthrightness.

Too radical.

Do we all have enough food? Do we produce enough globally? Yes.

Is there enough shelter? Are there enough places for most everyone to live? Yes.

Fuel? Presently and five years from now? Yes.

Uh Oh...

But knowing that, what is about to happen?

Are people going to starve? Yes.

Are millions going to be homeless? Yes.

Will people go cold in the winter? You bet.

Will families be ripped apart? Violence and crime increase as a result of the feeling of helplessness? Count on it.

Why? Because we have all subscribed to the belief that personal greed must be absolute to motivate any type of production, innovation or growth in our economies.

This smacks of socialism. Well actually i want to address something even more base than the economic system. Socialism, Capitalism, neither will work until we fix something else.

Lets talk about compassion instead.

In the last one hundred years our neighbors have grown into an inconvenience. We don't get to know them. We are busy, in a rush, uninterested. We lost our senses of community. And as we let go our sense of community, we are a step closer to letting go our sense of humanity.

We must remember our group is not just family, city, country, religion but species.

Without knowing our neighbors, we tolerate the unjust. Without a sense of community we allow the latest and greatest form of economy to thrive all around us in these last fifty years.

I simply call it trickery.

We have always had some form of trickery, but for many reasons it has never ever been as prevalent as it is now.

Trickery is profit from nothing.

Trickery is miles of fine print. Trickery is unfair contracts. Trickery is advertising that is an outright lie, that most know is a lie, but nothing is done to stop it. Trickery is the responsibility on the consumer to prove something is defective, unfair or wrong.

Trickery is vital in this new unfair economy.

Scientific and mathematic illiteracy has created an unfair quiet class system. Along with a paralyzingly inefficient and overpriced legal remedy to trickery, allowing all of us to be caught up in unfair, and unjust systems of exploitation.

Things are to easy and basic to get into, but amazingly complex and perplexing to free ourselves from after we reach the learning curve to see we are being exploited. It reminds me of a Crab trap.

We are all victims of it. And it has destroyed the possibility of good capitalism.

Everywhere you turn is trickery at work; Stock price manipulation, Short selling, Sub prime mortgages, Cell phone contracts that have rates designed by algorithms to predict the highest yield in overruns, advertising designed to heighten insecurity, every single diet product, gym memberships, built in obsolescence in automobiles, the fact that gas prices rise the very day oil prices rise but take weeks to go down when it decreases, and i'm sure you have many many examples of being purposely misled.

This happens by friends and strangers alike. As we have been convinced that any profit extracted from anyone is moral if the market bears the price.

But that only really works when we allow ourselves to be disconnected from one another.

And that is what this century has put so much effort on doing to allow it to happen. We would never sell something defective to our mother. And we would not do such a thing to a neighbor who we see every day and interact with. So why do we allow ourselves to do it when working for a corporation, to another?

Because they have convinced us that trickery is ok.

Because we have been purposefully distanced from our neighbors.

We have had, in essence, our morals 'de-regulated'.

This global catastrophe does not need to be the painful harvesting of wealth from the poor that it is shaping up to be.

We need to make a stand to no longer allow ourselves to be convinced that unlimited profiteering through dishonesty can be tolerated.

We can maintain a market if we respect our humanity, and in our humanity we must completely change the destructive moral blindness to the greed which is toxifying our development as a people and making the one financial system we subscribe to, self-destruct.

I've been thinking and a few things could change the world.

And it starts small. Just do this.

Be fair. Lets make fair the new greed.

Respect those you know are fair and act with conscience, encourage others to do so.

Stop screwing over people whether you know them or not. E-bay, craigslist, at work, anywhere.

Make a profit, but one you wouldn't be ashamed to tell the person you made a profit off.

Don't allow yourself to be taken advantage of! And let companies, and people know when you feel you are being exploited.

Let others know about dishonest and inhumane corporations, businesses and people.

Support honest people, humane organizations and business.

Get to know your neighbors! Share with them! Care about their well being.

Everyday expand the circle of your community to include more, until it resembles the equator.

Understand and accept that we seek wealth for security and pleasure, and a strong community of friends can offer those as well. So put time into developing both, and remember their are no shortcuts.

Thats all.

I am gonna try it and see what happens. Maybe it'll just be me. But it would be nice if allot of other people pushed this agenda across political, religious and geographical boundaries.

Maybe instead of leaving our kids a ravaged earth and trillions of debt to an anonymous faceless corporate/political organization, we could leave them a world that welcomes them into it's community, where it can grow up a little less jaded, and a lot more happy.

The dilemma of home.

2009-03-07T13:16:00.000-08:00

Canada, is my ultimate paradox.

I have never loved a country more, yet never felt so much rejection from one place either.

I spent my entire childhood, growing up in small town BC. I have always identified with being Canadian since my earliest memories. Yet I was born in the USA. I am a border baby. A child born from two Canadian parents in the US. And due to that am an American citizen. But was also a Canadian citizen as well... until I turned 28.

Then in one of the weirdest laws of any country anywhere on earth, i lost my Canadian Citizenship. I can't think of any western civilized country that does that. And so i lost my links to my heritage, my siblings, my parents. It was an awful blow, being told you were not what you had always thought you were.

So I have spent the last five years, trying to regain it, and have finally completed the process. Background checks, fingerprints, taking my citizenship test, spending hundreds of dollars. Having to watch how much time I travel, even though it is my source of income to balance my residency requirements. And now all that is left is taking an oath, and I will have it back. And now ironically i don't have to...

They just passed a law that takes effect April 17th to re-instate the citizenship of the thousands of people who are in a similar situation to myself to give us back our citizenship. It is a bittersweet correction to an awful, awful situation. There was nothing worse than being grilled at the border for years about my right to visit, or live here. Being made to feel like an outsider in the only country i have ever known. The country that I speak with pride about on my global travels. Now I get to carry my homes passport again, and its nice. But i wish it felt like home again.

I think I have been wounded by it all. There is a residual uncomfort. After being made feel unwelcome, like parents shunning a returning child. I have never been able to feel like I belong since i left. And comedy is like that as well.

I am a good comic. But I do not belong anywhere in the Canadian comedy business. I am completely forgotten now when it comes to any aspect of the industry in this country. Just for Laughs, Winnipeg, Halifax, CBC gigs, anything... I am completely not considered at any level.

It bothers me, because as I travel, I am enjoyed so well, and with such amazing enthusiasm, and I am received so well as I am proselytizing the wonderful qualities of Canadian humor. Yet as much as I have created a global audience for myself, and enough work and prosperity to never visit home again. It also is unbelievably painful to realize I will never truly be successful in my home country. Yet without fully understanding why.

I have never truly felt like I fit in anywhere all that much. And I know many have that feeling. But its strange to get so many emails, and messages from people, regular people who love what you do. And thats the only thing that really keeps me coming back. I guess I shouldn't care, but I love making people laugh. And I wish i could reach more people to do it in my home country. But I wonder sometimes why its so much easier to get stuff done in Europe or the US, and again I am made to feel like I don't belong in Canada.

My nightime snack face.

2008-11-28T06:05:00.001-08:00

This is what I look like late at night when I eat a snack before bed. Yes I know it's what makes me fat, but I can't eat before shows and I gotta eat sometime.

My first mobile post!

2008-11-27T12:37:00.001-08:00

Wow, I remember when email was cool.

Now I can update my blog from my phone, and show pics, and generally be irritating from anywhere.

Well I'm about to go onstage in Windsor, Uk and felt I should do a post to commemorate my new site, and new iPhone app that aloes this evil magic.

Cheers!

High-deas 5 Calgary...

2007-12-03T01:16:00.000-08:00

high deas 4 grande prarie

2007-12-02T00:23:00.001-08:00

high-deas three

2007-11-28T23:08:00.001-08:00

2007-11-28T23:04:00.000-08:00

Do me a favor and don't ask for more.

As previously stated.

2007-02-21T11:57:00.000-08:00

I mentioned a couple posts back I'm just gonna throw up(pun intended) whatever I am writing.
So to keep with the tradition of lifelong embaressment... crap begins below.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
**some identifying and interesting heading**

It’s a world that conspires against writing. Every thing that is lusted after, is writing’s (the work) enemy. When do I dare pause on this grand carousel of fun to journal the adventure?

Well, it would seem the small quiet afforded by the minus 21 degree northern Saskatchewan anti-scenic mural out the window is the last straw against my procrastination. What could I possibly have better to do here?
Cigarettes. (I took up very casual smoking after a five year pause due to a romantic tidal wave for the world noir last week in Paris)
Masturbation. (My ubiquitous writing aid is also my prime mistress, along with the internet as a tool for defilement providing me with an ever increasing palate of bizarre tastes for my slowly deadening sexuality to feast on)
Observation.(otherwise known as zoning out)
Rationalization.(the endless debate of my subconscious , that not one soul upon this planet need care of my personal journey, and that I alone am completely a fiction of my own ego for importance) Yeah that ones the kicker.

I jumped continents last week, and dropped my bags at my very unused apartment near the cold waters of Vancouver’s Kitsilano shores. I am one busy-lazy son of a bitch. It amazes me sometimes that I have to travel so much just to maintain the element of sloth that my molded molasses frame flows with.

I really dislike activity. The frozen moments upon couches and beds, comfy chairs and Grecian urns are the interests that hold me. Its amazing that I only made such a friend of weed so late in my life, but I imagine if I had enjoyed its bliss too early on it would have been but a mere attempt at the grand lazy lifestyle. Not the continent jumping, sultan of the sedentary that I have evolved into.

Thirty plus years upon this planet and I guarantee I have worked less, and less hard than any of my contemporaries. A total of four jobs in my life, none ever lasting more than two years and most only lasting six months. No real college or university schedule either, no long standing medical reason, bad back, or even a coma. Just shear inactivity. Oh and I’m not fat. Well not anymore I was kinda fat for like a year, but that had to go, as it goes against the principles of sloth. (Later) (maybe never, cause finishing shit goes against it as well).

Every year social security in the states sends you an estimate of your contributions, and what you will most likely get when you retire from them. They list your years of employment, and what you contributed. Mine is hilarious. I have two years of massive earnings, like six digits, then four years of zeroes. Some organizations just don’t value coasting.

Some would argue that stand up is a job. Those people aren’t funny. Its actually the easiest thing in the world, and its surprisingly close to being unemployed. Both financially and the amount of energy expended. But it does feed the need to travel, and the need to fill in my credit forms with Self Employed.

It’s a long path to the chair that my bones sink into today, but not that hard a trek, pretty level terrain.
I am dissipating electrical charge. I will find the path of least resistance, and so lies my destiny.

I have slept in past hundreds of appointments. I didn’t return thousands of calls. I ignored garbage bins of notices and requests, and a hard drive of emails went unopened.

How am I not homeless?

Its one of my biggest fears, every face I see with out stretched hand from its cardboard shelter, reflects a quality I possess in spades, mental instability, a love of Drugs, a lack of ability to maintain strong relationships with folks who might keep me from the concrete, and an insatiable sex drive. (well, I added that last one, but I’m not sure that leads to homelessness, or that the homeless are really horny. That last thought grosses me out a little, but makes me chuckle a little as I think about how on earth they would pick each other up).

But somehow I know I won’t ever be homeless. Why? I’ve had drug problems. I had an unholy dance with the bottle that lasted years. But I know I will never sleep in a cardboard box, or eat trash, unless it’s funny.

Why?

Cause I’m really, really fuckin lucky.

No foolin. It’s the only thing I have really become quite accepting of in my life, is that my luck will get me out of most any situation, except for the last one that I ever have.

How else can I explain it. I don’t try hard at anything. I don’t really commit to anything. I’m wishy-washy, I sleep too much and I have never broken a bone. Sure I use what I know, to increase my luck(FYI-good looks need be maintained, situational awareness, boldness and Voo-doo all help increase Luck)

I wasn’t always lucky. In fact I was downright unlucky at the beginning…

Fifth child of an ex-Pro hockey player failed business man, and his shrill uneven neurotic wife. I never had a stress free day as a child. I learned to worry at age 5, I didn’t stop until I discovered nitrous hoots and mushrooms at age 18.

My parents were born lucky, when apart. My mom was born to wealth. My dad to athletic talent. He would see his name on the Stanely cup. My mom was a part of the elite of Vancouver. Their marriage marked the end of that streak. Alcohol took over, four kids, serious bad business, cancer, and a baby(me) way too late in life.

And not just your average kid, 11 pounds worth of vagina stretching joy. They broke my collarbones to fit me out (doesn’t count as a broken bone, wasn’t born yet). An nothing a set of parents love more than a giant, sex wrecking baby late in their life.

So as a ten year afterthought and my parents into their forties, I was the kibosh on early retirement they always didn’t want. But hey, that’s no reason not to raise me all fucked up.

My dad absorbed extremist Catholicism with all the vigor and rationality of a fresh out of rehab vegetarian anti-smoker. It was a faith composed of ritual and little philosophy, endless prayer and statue worship balanced with random apparitions of Mary and insane interpretations of the book of Revelations. Everything a teenager who is just discovering girls needs to hear when he comes home.

My mom worked too much and as I found out years later was keeping that rollercoaster ride of mood swings alive with a healthy supply of pharmaceutical grade emotionally confuse your child pills in the form of Valium. Coming home to my mom was like battling a hydra in Dungeons and Dragons, you roll a twenty side dice to see which crazy head you have to deal with each day, is it weepy head that needs your help? Or is it vindictive head that tells you are fat and ugly, which at thirteen are great words to hear from your mother, or screamy-throwy-teary-pull your hair out-curse you-lock you out of the house head… but hey how else do you learn cake mixes, and chocolates are for mom only?

Needless to say I spent every hour I could growing up outside the home, getting brief longing glimpses into what seemed like normal families, wishing I was sleeping in a stable house, where people mostly smiled, where the milk was for the kids. Where parents talked optimistically about university and careers and wanted to help you follow your dreams, and be a part of your life.

All my childhood I was told the world was going to end and the chastisement was on its way. I am not kidding. At dinner, in the car, in the middle of the night so that my sleep would be sound and restful. Constantly this idea was re-enforced along with the simple syllogistic repercussions, that there was no point in additional learning, no point in dreaming, hoping. Just pray for forgiveness and hang out more with priests. On top of that they had no desire to help you do anything. All they ever wanted was more for them.

Jeezus, as I write it down, it really sucked. And I don’t even feel comfortable talking bout the violence. Yup, plenty of that. Neglect, oh sure. But I don’t want to dwell.

The only good thing I can say about my childhood, is nobody fucked me. Which is amazing, cause I did spend a lot of times with priests, but the one that I spent the most time with, turned out to be heterosexual… so much so, that he slept with a parishioners wife and was kicked out of the diocese… seems in retrospect they should have given him a reward for choosing pussy. Plus he was a really cool guy, played chess and mountain climbed, and I guess had a way with the ladies;)

How’s that for finding the silver lining?

I guess there is one other good thing owed to dysfunctional upbringing version 1980.0, it forced me and my siblings all to leave home really early. No Italian children here, all of us moved out on our own by 16 or seventeen, hell my sister got out at 15(stayed with a foster family, she got sick of my dad beating up her and her boyfriends, and throwing out her birth control pills, and even once, I am not kidding, having an exorcism performed on her!) It’s amazing she ever got layed as much as she did.

My brothers all got to beat my dad up when they left to, I am jealous of that. He was too old when I left. It would have just been mean. I guess I could have kicked out his cane, pulled him across the floor by his rosary, but I was too busy figuring out how to move out with no financial support of any kind.

But by some freak of Luck, or of will, we all turned out fuckin amazing. Especially considering the childhood, I would expect at least one criminal, or deadbeat or even a part time serial killer given what we went through, hell at the very least a flasher or a down and out skid row boozer, maybe a herion addict… these things all seem to come from families like mine. I mean a lot of the nicer families I grew up around, have some really shitty kids.

But no. We all did our own thing. And did it well.

The oldest is a world traveler, business man, smart, and responsible to a fault.
My sister is a great mom, nurse, and has an amazing life(read married well)
The middle child made a name for himself in basketball, then acting.
The second youngest, became overeducated multiple degrees, MBA, three kids and a life in the tropics.

Then Me. Uhm, I’m lucky.

The Escape.

I hated my hometown.

It was a tacky place full of tacky people, who talked to much about tacky things. I never belonged. It was a place where the highschool kids took steroids, not for sports but for the beach. And girls rewarded them for their hormonal bravery. Where hi-fives, and beer were the sacraments of debate, and the one thing that untied the community was homophobia.

Welcome to Kelowna, the redneck oasis of new money Albertans. A city with the clearest socio-economic line in the sand of any place I have ever seen. S.E. Hinton could not have come up with a bigger rivalry between wealth and poverty than the Rutland-Kelowna, conundrum. A disrespected impoverished community, inside a culturally empty financially boyant community… nothing good could come of this.

And I danced on both sides of those tracks, starting off in the posh side, only to spend years post dad’s poor business decision making skills in the Orchard ghetto, then to make a trip forever marked back to the side that was soo self righteous. Never really feeling like I belonged to either.

Oh well. It gets weirder. Come the end of high school this outsider started spending his summers a little south of Kelowna, down in Los Angeles in fact. As my brother was starring on a soap opera, I would leave my insulated valley to visit a place that people I knew didn’t think really existed.

So my insulated, outsider self, packed his finest Kelowna cloths, his hair gel, florescent Vaurnet glasses, checkered slip on Vans, and my blue headband, and headed to Southern California.

I arrived, and my bro picked me up at the airport, he was always a gregarious and fun host, but always doing something… always. The complete opposite of me in that respect. He can’t sit through movies or TV, he has a lot of my mom’s qualities that way, but generally directed to something positive rather than painting all the eyes of the pictures in the family albums black. We went straight to his place to drop off my bags in his Studio City loft, and then less than an hour later off to a party. I’m 16. It never crosses his mind that I’m 5 years underage, or a dork from kelowna, stuff like that just isn’t a problem. Lends me some cool clothes, bribes a doorman, problem solved.

My first trip to LA, I land, and in under four hours my brother took me to a party at a club thrown by Francis Ford Coppola at the hottest club in LA, I was just off a plane from Podunk Canada, and he promptly leaves me there to go chase down this chick he was supposed to meet. However this super nice girl took care of me, Justine Bateman, she thought that my brother was a bit of a jack ass, and I think she thought it was funny that I was so young and out of place, plus I was probably the least threatening guest in the entire joint. She was really quite wonderful introduced me around, then finally we took a seat at a table next to our hosts ,the Coppola’s, and had dinner.

My first 24 hours ever in LA, I had dinner with Francis Ford Coppola, a young Sophia Coppola and Justine Bateman, while my brother chased down some tail.

Needless to say, it was hard to go back to Kelowna. Kids didn’t really like me all that much in the first place, so when I mentioned how I spent my summer, it just got me ridiculed. Nobody believed me. They couldn’t. How could they believe I hung out over the summer with George Micheal? How could they ever understand that he had a crush on my brother, so he would take us out to win over his affections…they still thought he was straight. I met Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons from Kiss, I saw Andrew Dice Clay, I flew to Alabama to play in a celebrity softball game with all sorts of TV stars and music acts.

What I did for real on my summer vacation forever branded me as a liar in my high school. It got to the point where people didn’t believe my brother was my brother.

That’s when I first really started to realize the constraints people put on the way they look at the world. That quick dose of access to everything that seemed so very distant to them, made me realize how distorted small towns look at the world. And it made me realize I had to get the fuck out of dodge and fast.

It wasn’t just my parents telling me I couldn’t do what I wanted, I realized it was the city I lived in. the streetlights told me I couldn’t do that. The lake whispered that’s not realistic. The hills say, stay and learn to sell real estate. Yeah, you get it, Kelowna sucked.

I had brought a tape from LA of a comic I loved named Sam Kinison back with me, and along with a black Appetite for Destruction tape I educated myself as to rage, and disaffection. This immersion helped feed me and my good friend Lee with the fuel and drive to realize that we wanted to try and do Stand up Comedy. Lee was naturally very funny, and a master impressionist even at his age, which was about twenty, as he had been held back a number of years due to the fact that he was nearly totally blind. So we made an odd pair of jokers, this cherub faced stick boy at a gangly six three, and his full bearded blind friend, slipping onstage at restaurants to deliver poorly written impressions and absolutely filthy jokes to shocked eaters, and shamed friends.

But for some reason, we couldn’t stop.

Stand up was the first serious drug I ever tried. It was euphoric. Powerful. Hallucinogenic, scary and incredibly addictive.

I would dread and fear the approaching stage time, I would pace and cringe, my mind would race. Doubt, self hate, avalanches of shame and fear. Sometimes lasting days if I made a committal to a show too early. I would go over the jokes, trying to heighten the funny, courser words, stronger feelings, test it on friends, on Lee on strangers.

Then just before the show, I would worry about forgetting everything, nerves make your mind jump around, not ever focusing on any one thing, but you know you need to focus on the list, the jokes, what you prepared. So I would have a little drink. Well a Mickey. And the fear would still be there, but it would be a muttering fear speaking some damaged Irish that didn’t make the kind of clear sense the earlier fear that could annunciate made.

As soon as you step on stage everything stops. A second earlier you weren’t aware of the background or ambient noise in the room, but each step towards the microphone, leaves you with a topographical map of every auditory peak and valley, and you are now carrying the burden of the noise. Every second of silence, even before you start to speak, is a testament to your failure, so you race to plug the holes with the only two tools you have, your voice, and the crowds.
When you start in Comedy, you start to race when you speak. You can’t get the words out fast enough, anything to kill the pain of quiet judgment left in the pauses. When you pause, you gamble. A pause in a poor comics hands is a bad risk, as that pause is like scratching your nose when you are juggling knives. You need to learn to do it, but at what cost. A heckle? A disinterested crowd that starts talking, or even worse a scrutinizing crowd that locks itself even deeper into the comfortable objective stance of observation rather than participation. They could, and they did become that extension of my town, and they stared like the street signs, and said stop.

But then as time distorted, as it seemed like I had been standing under the three dim-colored pot lights, I said something that resonated. And new comedy ears are so hyper sensitive, a chuckle sounded like a chorus of angels pissing their pants. The endorphins flood the brain, I just evoked a reaction in a stranger, a reaction of glee of laughter… It was power. Power that a pimply faced, stick boy, with bad hair and a sweating problem never possessed. And it was that power that made me realize… someday. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week. But someday, this drug, this power of Stand Up… would get me laid.

One night in London...

2007-01-21T14:59:00.000-08:00

I returned to london at 5pm via the Eurostar train from Paris through the Chunnel.
A tunnel under the english channel is actually far less scenic than I thought, it feels like a subway, well a fast 100 km hr subway.

I arrived and checked into my Hotel the Marriot at Marble Arch, which turns out to be a predominantly Muslim part of London... oh the things Priceline leaves off in its descriptions! Certainly a different feeling neighborhood than Vancouver, women in full cover with only their eyes showing, it felt like being back in a very expensive and wealthy, rainy, unbomb damaged Afghanistan. in fact it didn't feel like that at all. For the most part everyone is very nice, although small cultural differences, like personal space are very noticable, espescially if you have a personal space need like mine of about 4 feet around. Also the pushing you out of way in any line, very middle eastern and hard to wrap your head around as a Westerner... None the less got in, showered and relaxed before my two shows that evening.

My first show was at a club called Jongleurs at Bow Wharf, a notoriously difficult room by london standards, but when you've played the rowdy clubs of Canada, a rather easy cake walk... took me a minute to get my Wharf legs, but knocked it out hard and strong... turns out the agent that booked me was in the audience, having never met each other we shared the trip to the Comedy Store in Picadilly Circus where my next gig was, a very nice guy he listed all the canadians he knew, i felt bad for only knowing a few of them, but hey, we all know I'm self centered...

He seemed relieved that i did well, as even though for the most part Canadians have a good reputation here in the UK, very recently some comics have done alot of damage to our good image, almost to the point where I was thinking of being American... but come on, thats just nuts.

We got to the store, and probably the strongest Show line up I have ever been on, the Compere a fantastic bald headed bloke with a staggering bite and wit opened up, then one funny fucker named John Bishop, a winner of numerous awards in the Uk, and a strong almost unintelligible Liverpudlian accent, ripped the place apart, with material and commentary, espescially racial obvservations. Then it was my turn, i was a little nervous of the top, as this is the best club in england and one of the best shows they have, but I really did quite amazing. Endless applause breaks, and a great build they were an incredible audience, quick, fun, playful, smart, everything you could dream of, the time flew by, in fact I did a minute long, but wow what fun!

As soon as I walked off the owner and my 'new manager' were all over me with offers and interests, it was quite amazing what one show can do for you, It lokks like I booked a month straight of shows for the Store, in London, manchester and tours in Dubai, Hong Kong, Bangkok, as well as interest in Australia... but the real fun was how cool the comics were.

It felt like being invited into a new, and very respectable click of comics who love the art, I got to watch Steve Hughes who went up on the second half of the show. Fucking brilliant comedy. Clever, charasmatic, poingant.. to be on stage with these guys was a fucking honor, but to do well with them was bliss, and to be treated as a peer was too much cause I promptly went home and took a nap, as that was a little much.

Also, mr hughes provided me with some truly mindfuck weed that knocked me down a sudoku puzzle level.

Anyways looks like I'll be back over here in a couple of months, I can't now i need to decompress...
God what a night...

Assortment of Travel Pics:) Bristol, London, Paris Alleys

2007-01-21T14:03:00.000-08:00

Bristol, England

2007-01-12T03:13:00.000-08:00

Kicking about London with my buddies Glen and Dan, we all came out to the seaside town of Bristol to do shows this weekend.

It's been a really nice couple of days, my sleep is pretty fucked up, and my bank account is taking a bruising from a number of unexpected costs, but all in all lovin it.

We did a marathon sweep of Central London on the first day, hit Picadilly Circus, Parliment, Westminster Abby, and Buckingham palace, walked the river past the eye and back up to our hotel in Bloomsbury.

Had no sleep the night before I left as i had just gotten in from Austin texas where i was performing the week prior.

That was a great time, i spent six hours on the morning show with Dudley and Bob on KLBJ, really fun. And the most radio I have ever done in a week.

The shows really filled out on the weekends and I got two partial standing ovations, but eluded the total standing O....

When i got back I had only eight hours before my flight to London, so I packed like an idiot, and slept a total of 3 hrs.

I barely slept on the flight over, sat in the bulkhead seat so my legs were folded uncomfortably all night, arrived in London at 7am, missing tuesday completely...

We bolted around on the tube trying to get to our buddies pad, but when we arrived we discovered his wife had just tossed him out on his ass, this threw us for a rather big curve... forcing us to get a hotel in the most expensive city on earth... uh yeah it is...

Lets see,

Cafe Americano at Starbucks 6bucks Canadian

Subway ride one way 4.50 canadian

Hotel room in cheasy super cheap place 200 bucks

small bottle water 3.50 canadian

internet access 24hrs at hotel 36 dollars canadian.

5 minute cab ride 26 dollars canadian.

Soo, i will be coming home quite poor I figure, but hey, you only live once right?

Anyways my first show is tonight here in Bristol, i imagine it will be quite fun, I will repost with pics soon.
All the best,
Pete J

2006-10-17T12:01:00.000-07:00

Long late overdue blog update with pics!

2006-10-17T11:38:00.000-07:00

I'm far past the phase of beating myself up for not updating my blog on a regular basis. But I have two really good excuses, none-the-less.

One- I have become a MAC guy. Its true! Two months ago I switched from my big bulky dell laptop that weighed 10 pounds(not kidding) to a dual intel Macbook Pro... and even though at first I was hesitant, I am loving it now. Macs, truly do rock, with one caveat... You feel prejudiced against alot, like if you like any game, or neat program or even web poker, there are literally no options for mac users, you are left to entertain yourself, which is easy with the music and video and picture options, but don't expect to play any of the newest games... Also things like Myspace, or Blogger or any of the latest websites all have little glitches that Mac users have to put up with, but still I can run 8 programs at the same time with no lag, and managing files, and just general beauty is through the roof:)

Two- I have been busy. Very Busy. Touring, Philadelphia, Boston Comedy Festival, NY City, North carolina, Vancouver Comedy Festival, and home... where I am helping run the local club(just some of the booking), but still an enormous tax on my time. Not to mention my 2007 is blowing up... I have 20 plus weeks booked, including The Bob and Tom Show in Indianapolis which I am super Psyched about! I have a real knack for Radio, so I think this could be a real amazing opprtunity to push my US club draw way up. Not to mention some interest from Comedy Central and Aspen who might want me back again. So a great year so far turning into a great 2007 is another reason why I have not updated my blog...

So here's some pics.:)

My thoughts 5 years hence.

2006-09-11T22:25:00.000-07:00

So its been five years.

Where was I when it happened? I was living in Los Angeles right below the Hollywood sign with my then fiance. She woke me up and said we were being attacked.
I didn't know what she meant and I checked out the news... I couldn't believe it, I was in shock, I started to cry, and I openly cursed our foreign policy. There they were the two towers burning. We watched together and made phone calls to family, then the first tower collapsed.
The shock was unbelievable, I had many friends who worked just a block away on Greenwich Blvd and on white St, I couldn't get through to either. And there was the rumors of a bomb at the state dept, and the missing planes.
We packed my truck with important documents, stopped by a bank machine and took out as much money as possible, bought water and some comfort foods and went up to my brothers house in the hills. We all watched all day. Crying, being angry, being in shock.
Eventually I went down to a store on highland and I bought a flag. The store was empty, and the clerk was an idiot, she didn't care at all what was going on... But the owner came to my rescue, he understood and we exchanged some comforting words.
I put that flag up with purpose, with respect and I was proud.

For the next few days everyone in LA was in shock, I finally got through to friends in NY they were devastated but resilient. My one friend who lived literally two blocks from ground zero nearly slept through the entire event until they collapsed and blew his windows out.

It was an amazing time.
One night nearly everyone in my neighborhood walked down to the major street below our house and stood holding candles, and flags, and tears streamed down innocent faces full of concern and passion about this great tragedy we all faced together. There was no parties, no republicans, no democrats, there was only Americans... even in Canada where my family lived, that day, and the week that followed we were all Americans. The ideals, the patriotism, the love was incredible. When I told people in LA that my home town in Kelowna BC, strung American flags down its streets it touched peoples hearts.

I am not sure when or what changed, but at some point, innocence and love gave way.
It gave way to something else. Merely a few months later, American Idol was all over the TV, and the only remnants of the tragedy were national guard with machine guns in the airports, and mail being screened everyday for white anthrax powder.

But we lost our sympathies. I am not sure how. We went back to normal. We were urged to go back to normal, to go on shopping, that was the solution the government offered for us to help.

We were told about Al quai da from the get go, never questioning that it wasn't Bin Laden. But I think even the most unskeptical observer from around the world felt uneasy when Iraq kept being brought up, even from the beginning.

Where did we lose the worlds sympathies. When we attacked a country that didn't attack us? I don't think so. I think that the world was gonna let us kick any dog we wanted at first. I think we could have invaded Brazil, and we would have found alot of support at first. But only if we attacked, did so clearly on good info and finished the job quickly and gotten out.

But the lies. A few would have been fine. OK there weren't WMD's even then OK, but then to keep sayin they were connected to BIn Laden, the endless lies about security threats based on no info. Then we saw the money. I think that's when most rational people hit the tipping point and started to realize that somebody took all our goodwill and sold it, for the hundreds of billions of dollars that the defense and oil corporations have been harvesting off the taxpayers.

But never has this great country talked of any other solutions than war, this country of great minds, and from what I saw even greater hearts, a country that I have seen through politics aside for love, yet can't find away to through it aside for solutions that might be risky or unorthodox, like actually leaving them alone like they want... I don't know the answers, but I know what it isn't and that's what we've done. So lets try something new?

I wish we could have bottled that moment a week after the tradgedy. That moment where we held candles and sung the anthem with strangers from around the world. We did not act as the greatest minds of our history would have, we acted as the simple minds of our present have become.

It's five years later, we are divided like no other time, we are farther from the peace our children deserve, and many are wealthy beyond belief while the blood of the disenfranchised from our poorest areas are spilt along with many innocent lives over seas, but not for a glorious truth as we once fought. But for muddled technical deceptions and veiled lies tangled with questionable facts and very broken morals.

If I fly a flag, it is no longer for this government, but for the people, to remind them of what it once stood for, but no more. It is a shame that I cannot be proud as I once was of its symbolism. This should infuriate, and drive us to take the time to hold those responsible for taking away its hundreds of years of glory with stern and unyielding reprimand and evacuation of their power, and their priviledge.

These are my thoughts today Sept 11, 2006
pete j

2006-09-11T12:25:00.000-07:00

Philadelphia... You are what i needed:)

2006-09-02T12:40:00.000-07:00

The city of brotherly love is what they called themselves, the birthplace of democracy, home of the Eagles and the cheesesteak.

I myself would like to call it the really cool fun city on the east coast that no-one seems to know about.

Seriously, when people talk about fun places to go, no-one ever says Philly. But its downtown is fuckin wicked! Clubs, bars, really great shopping, amazing architecture, history and from what I here pretty safe in the core... now I know the first night I was here there were eleven shootings and eight murders... but hey, not downtown!

Also, I could be wrong but it seems that girls outnumber the guys here like three to one.

It is weird being out east though the shocking difference towards weed is amazing... People are really covert about it, hidin in corners, back in alleys, it feels like you are doing something really bad, not just smoking a piece of a dried plant that grows over 80 percent of the globe.

The transition from Vancouver is shocking, where you smoke pretty much anywhere without much consideration for getting in trouble from Johnny law.

It shouldn't be like this! Philly, you are too cool to be scared of a little plant, and all those important people who signed that beautiful document in constitution hall, they all grew it! But you can't! How is that the evolution of democracy? Why was it OK for George Washington to grow weed but not you?

I'll tell you why, because the more bullshit laws they have, the more under control of the government you are, the more they can pull up whatever shit they want in order to scare you out of making waves in elections, and in the vast financial and social inequity that the corporations don't want you to do anything about.

It's weed. It doesn't kill, hell it barely does anything bad, maybe strips away some of your motivation to work hard... but not anymore than realizing that there are two America's one for the corporations and one for the pee-ons(us,me).

So lets make a first step. Don't let any self righteous dickhead try and tell you pot is bad, over his liver pickling whisky breathe. Don't let anyone say there is a justification in sending good people to jail or making them live with a criminal record because of a drug that is in no way a gateway drug any where as close to alcohol (think about it? When have you seen a bunch of high guys wanting coke? It's always drunk preppie assholes going to the bathrooms in packs to snort, never guys in tie dyed shirts eating a twinkie).

Thats just the first step, correct people. Correct your mom, when she criticizes pot, correct you preacher, correct you guidance councilors and most definitely correct your politicians and your local judges. Don't let them get away with making pot into something worse than booze... It just does not make any sense!

And once people can't get away with saying ludicrous bullshit about weed, we can start changing things for the better. Less cops worrying about it means more cops protecting us from crime, more judges looking into the eroding of our civil rights, more good people contributing to society without fear of a bullshit criminal record, more snack sales for hostess, and more record sales for trippy music...

Don't tolerate the propaganda! Never let anyone get away with spreading lies for the sake of a corporate agenda, and that's all the criminalization of weed is about.

Anyways I got really off topic here, but that's how I roll...

Much love from Philly!

Preston and Steve show in Philly

2006-08-31T16:13:00.000-07:00

Hey thanks to everyone that listened to me on the Preston and Steve Morning show!

I have recieved so many wonderful messages and emails, seriously for a city with eleven shootings last night, you guys are the nicest city in the east!

Just some quick clarifications to the ladies...

I love all types of women. Seriously, I don't have a preference, (except mabye a bigger butt), but still its not that big a deal either way. i think there is so much more to like in a variety of beautiful women I don't underrsrstand how anyone can actually have a preference.

I seriously do love weed.

The pic on my profile is me smoking a fatty where it's all legal and good in Canada:)

I am a huge fan of our soldiers and military men and women.