I get to read my story about swing dancing this evening. I got the schedule this afternoon, and I was shocked to learn that, while each person had been slated for ten minutes, I was the only one to actually use ten minutes (and then some). As of this evening, my story stood at fiftenn minutes, and even then it sounded like the speed reader from the Micromachine commercials they used to have on television when I was a kid. So I spent the evening working with the Kurt Vonnegut rule that you should automatically cut out 1/3 of everything you write, because that third is probably worthless (assuming anything else you write actually has worth. If it doesn't, just cut it all and become a journalist. Or worse...get a job in marketing). I cut and cut and cut, and when I done with that I cut some more. I can get it in at 10 minutes 15 seconds if I don't mess up or pause to let the audience laugh (which they won't do). I'll try to cut more while I'm at work tomorrow, but I don't know if that will be possible.
There were some jokes about a band that might take a full half hour to play their song, which rivals Innagodadavida in both blandness and pointless lenght. Apparently. I've never heard the song, but I have heard the guitarist/singer and I haven't been too impressed. There are several jokes I could make here, but there is an outside chance the guy in question could read this and I don't want him to read it. Also, it would be mean.
he won't kick my ass, though. He's a skinny bastard and he'd probably run away and drown himself in a bowl of tofu. Dammit! I made a joke!
Time for sleep. I believe that, while I am sleeping, I will listen to Peter Kreeft expound upon the intricasies of evil found in Tolkein's "The Lord of the Rings." You can too!