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  • Paul Davidson

2004, Whore

I have a knack at rhyming numbers and words and have thought of creating a second career out of this wonderful talent. I figure, I could initially start the buzz with one of those “One Man Show” things out here in Los Angeles where I would stand on a pretty bare stage (with a bunch of huge, white styrofoam numbers and words [that rhyme] and a big spotlight on my face) and then would proceed to say a number and a word and retell a story that involves both. Like…

“The number eleven hundred one and the word ‘fun’. Oh, I remember my eleven hundreth and first day living here on Planet Earth. I was 3 years old and was required to do nothing but eat, sleep and continue to learn to go potty. It was, let me just tell you, fun…

You know the agents and talent scouts would be coming out of the woodwork once they got wind of …that one man show where the funny guy talks about numbers and words that rhyme, it’s like the most ingenius and hilarious thing I’ve ever seen since Jackass… I can even imagine the poster on the outside of the little playhouse. It would be me, sitting on the inside of a huge number 9, and the alternative ones would be me sitting on the inside of a huge number six. See, it’s the upside down version of the poster? Get it? And when we put that upside down, those would be the nights I actually did the play backwards! Not in garble-de-gook backwardsness, I mean that I’d just start with my ending monologue about how “the number seven and the word heaven was all about how when I saw the movie Se7en it made me wonder about whether or not serial killers get into heaven… and end with what was normally my opening story about the number sixteen hundred twenty two and a Nike shoe. I’ve got it all figured out.

As for the New Year, I am sadly not out this evening at a huge party after last year’s nightmare party where my favorite dialogue was this:

Girl, grinding her teeth: Hi, Paul.

Me: Hi. Why are you grinding your teeth?

Girl, trying to not grind her teeth: It’s the orange juice. It’s really sour.

[Thirty seconds later]

Girl, grinding her teeth’s, boyfriend: Hey.

Me: Hey. Why’s your girlfriend grinding her teeth?

Girl, grinding her teeth’s, boyfriend: She’s on ecstasy.

Me: Aah-ha.

When you get to a certain age, and you find yourself on New Year’s Eve among a group of people all out of their minds on something other than booze — makes you long for your couch and home theater setup.

So, alas. Tonight we are staying in. I’ll tell you about the Hungry Man TV Dinner on a later entry.

Happy New Year.

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