Low-Cost Freedom

Today's blog is inspired by CVS brand "all day pain relief." I have been in pain for two solid days or much longer if you count childhood. In a freak accident in the AM...I was just exiting REM sleep when Pete decided to toss shit around in the other room. As I tensed up my neck muscles while waking up, my first conscious thought was..."my neck sure hurts in this dream" followed by manic screaming. So for two days I have turned very slowly hoping no one drops a briefcase in a courtroom like they did on that episode of the Brady Bunch. Which...is complete bullshit because I could turn quickly if startled by a falling attache case or the like but it would hurt like hell. If I was that defendant on that episode of the Brady Bunch it would have just pissed me off. "What the fuck Jan Brady, you crazy lezbo?!" And I don't think Jan had anything to do with it. No wonder lesbians are always fighting for something.

Leah, I hope you have to take wedding photos while sporting a halo cast.

- Jan Brady.

My dreams since "the injury" have been particularly intense. Marin keeps telling me to "relax" and "chill." To which I reply "How am I supposed to relax and/or chill if you keep dating other chicks in my dreams?! It's stressful!"

I have always had very vivid dreams. I don't always remember my dreams but if I do I'm convinced they've actually happened or at the very least...could have happened, which seems to upset me just as much. I remember once in college I dreamed that Matt pushed me off a moving bus and I had trouble looking at him for a week. And I certainly wasn't getting in a car with the guy I'll tell you that much. If I tell Marin something that happens in my dreams she automatically returns with "How long are you planning on blaming me for that? For doing that fictional thing to you in your dream?" The average time is about 3 days.

Today we're heading to Boston for my sister's wedding. I mention this because she loves being the center of my blogisphere. And because I wanted to give burglars a heads up. I'm looking forward to it...provided I can turn my head, it should be a good time. The blend of the two sides of divorced families is not normally a party but I am hopeful. Even the Bloods and the Crips come together to decide on the going rate of crack. Right? Then surely we can all pretend to like each other for one day or at the very least allow our subconscious to take over and paralyze the top halves of our bodies so we don't have to deal with it. Right? Good.

Crack Cocaine in a dude's mouth (courtesy of google images)---->

Speaking of drugs...my show Leah Dubie's Smokin' Comedy Joint is really coming along. My friend Shannon helped me with the postcards/posters and they are ready for distribution. Marin and I took many pictures of me smoking cigarettes in front of a bodega while dodging people asking us to "stop smoking on the fruit." And they didn't mean Jason Scarlatti. He'll gladly let you smoke on him.

Here is a artsy, blurry picture that didn't make the cut but still manages to make me look cool in a junior high school way.

The more I look at the marketing campaign for Dubie's smokin show...the more I worry...do pot-heads keep appointments? Let's hope.

Leah Dubie's Smokin Comedy Joint

The Sage Theater - 711 7th Ave. (between 47th and 48th)

Kicks off Tuesday November 6th - 8 PM

Reservations - smokincomedy@gmail.com