Tuesday, June 21, 2005


Now why do I put off writing blog entries until I'm all blase and badmoodified and have nothing at all to say? Why do I do that? Because I wouldn't be Ed Shepp if I didn't!

Last week was too much. There was just too much in last week. Monday I had to write this release and send it someplace; Tuesday--oh wait, maybe Tuesday was Monday. Drat! I can't remember! You see my brain has become orange jello. Wednesday I had another deadline for something written. Thursday I cut myself on a piece of glass that was jutting out of a garbage sack. And Friday my show, The Ed Shepp Radio Experiment, debuted on WFMU. Saturday & Sunday were less hectic, but I was all stressed about my cut hand and starting the show creation process anew, so I got to relax a little, but not RELAX. Notice the bold print.

I have to comment on the weather, because I've got that old-man-living-in-a-condo-on-Miami-Beach in me who says things like that, and if I don't let him out he'll constipate me, and then it's back on the pitted prune diet for yet another week. And no one wants that. Hey, can 'constipate' even be a transitive verb like that? Is transitive a word? Hmm, perhaps I just made up something new. Anyway, while the week started out all hot, by Friday it had turned perfect. As in how the weather must be in Perfect, CT, or wherever that town in the Walgreens commercial is. They don't tell you, because then everyone in the world will want to move there. (Actually, though, I think they just want to keep Jewish people out. Watch the Christmas commercials--not a menorah or dreidle in sight. And if the town's in Connecticut, that sounds about right.) So I'm walking around Friday, and even though I'm afraid my hand will be going all gangrenous if I don't spend every waking moment obsessing about it, I'm in a great mood. I don't think there's ever been such a perfect day in New York. Something must've been in the air. Maybe some antidepressant manufacturing plant or illicit drug lab had some kind of accident/spill and all kinds of happy molecules were in the air. It would explain how I saw the green fairy everywhere. Anyway, the day was beautiful, and by the time I left the station the evening had become achingly, heartbreakingly beautiful. The kind of day that makes you just want to walk down the street until you walk into a different life, like in that movie Big Fish, where Ewan M. walks through some swamp and lands in Perfect, AL. And like an idiot, he leaves. And I turn off the movie, because the character is such an idiot. Or because Family Guy is on. Well, we may never know, will we?

And damn if I have anything else to say, boos! Although I should mention that my Partydance was played on a podcast, and I think the DJ said after it ended that I sounded like "a right-wing Baz Luhrmann," which I thought was interesting, since I alluded to his Chanel commercial in the second verse of the song. ("I love to dance! I love to dance!!") Of course I'll have to listen to the podcast again--I mean, he could've said I sounded like a 'batty German' for all I know.

And that's the beep for now.


Ed Shepp

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