Hey there fans of Cherry:
Here is the latest. I will never be a radio star. I give up. I can’t do it. The equipment causes me to freak out and when I’m freaked out I can’t perform and that’s the end of it. A podcast may be in my future. But what? What? Chicken butt?
I have no idea what a podcast would be about.
In the past week I met with both my editor and director. They are both awesome and I am much cheered up and going to start editing and working on my book just any minute now. In fact I as scheduled to do it now, but writing this for YOU, my one reader, whoever you are, is just too important.
Anyway, the next show is taking shape in my mind. The working title is Dadafest Monkey Disaster, though David Ford thinks it should be called “Sometimes when you give lunatics fire, bad things happen.” Though I like that as a title, my show just isn’t pyrotechnic enough to make that work. People would think I was talking about Paul Addis, and though I know Paul, I don’t actually want to capitalize in any way on his escapade.
Anyway, there will be nothing about Paul Addis in my next show. But I did have a dream about Paul once. In the dream I was sitting and talking to Chicken John (I love Chicken!) and Paul came up to me and started talking to me about his latest show. He can be a little overwhelming and he was talking a lot when suddenly he started growing bigger and bigger until he was Godzilla sized and Chicken and I ran and ran but Paul got chicken, breathed fire on him, and ate him. Fried Chicken. I woke up. I told Chicken the dream, but all he said was: I’m not afraid of Paul. But go back and look at that picture again! I’m afraid of Paul! Who wouldn’t be?
On another subject entirely the only real difference between my book and my show so far is that the book goes off into a long rant about my love for Wicked Wanda. Here she is:
But it didn’t work out like that. Mostly I just got the hair more or less right. Other than that, well, Wanda, as you can see, is dominant and toppy, and me…well…I get bossed around by six-year-olds.
Anyway: I’m going away to Grass Valley for the weekend with my incredibly awesome boyfriend, and I have to get to yoga, make a cherry pie, go to Trader Joe’s and pack. There will be fun and merriment and pie and bourbon and tomfoolery and shenanigans and I hope even some escapades. I hope all of you have a great weekend and remember, wear red and chew bubble gum, because every day is a day to celebrate.