Dear Everyone in the World and Beyond,
As you know, I sometimes tour for a certain well-known "comedy school": I am told the happy North Korean workers at the Peoples' Glorious Cement Factory #6 still chuckle (on their own time, of course), recalling my robot voice.
I was delighted to hone my craft and preserve world peace at the same time.
Last week, however, after our most recent tour, I went in for a "chat" with Ms. Klisterschmuck, the head of touring.
"Ms. Klisterschmuck," I expolsulated, "I quit."
"Now, Cleetus you idiot, you don't want to do that."
"Ms. Klisterschmuck, I don't know if you know it, but my last name is Ferbderbler, a fine old name, not idiot..."
"Touchy, touchy: You're probably jet-lagged from the tour."
"Ms. Klisterschmuck, we traveled to our last appearance in Damascus at the Displaced Persons' Camp # 472 by a vintage 1947 prop plane, not a jet. Then we traveled by van to an Ebola hospital in the Congo---it took two weeks. Our per diem was calculated in maize."
"Cleetus, thousands of young improvisors would kill for these opportunities."
"Ms. Klisterschmuck, I will miss the comraderie, the $65 a show, and the per diem calculated in the local currency..."
"By the way, you still owe us from the North Korean debacle: How anyone can spend $600 a day in North Korea and not own the place is beyond the accounting department..."
I raised my hands in a gesture universally signalling, "Enough!"
"Enough!" I said. "I am moving to LOS ANGELES!"
"Bon voyage; leave your forwarding address with accounting."
TO BE CONTINUED...
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Friday, August 16, 2013
"Cleetus Ferbderbler, Boy Improvisor, Announces New Tour with Famous "Comedy School"
Dear Everyone,
Well, as those of you who follow my adventures know, after my terrifying descent into drug addiction,
(July 26---28th), I became a drug counselor.
After the ruckus when I returned their quiz results, I was seriously doubting this career path, when Fate, that merry minx, interrupted with a phone call from a certain famous "comedy school":
Ms. Klisterschmuck, Director of Touring: Cleetus, you idiot.
Me: Ms. Klisterschmuck, my last name is Ferbderbler, not "you idiot."
Ms. K: Whatever. I need you to tour with 3rd World Co next Tuesday to Egypt.
After some heavy duty bargaining re; per diems! (I now know to demand more than $1.65 per day; this tour I'm getting $2.50! Score!).
After Cairo, we are scheduled to appear at something called Ebola Camp # 2, which should be a hoot.
All in all, quite a relief from drug counseling!
Well, as those of you who follow my adventures know, after my terrifying descent into drug addiction,
(July 26---28th), I became a drug counselor.
After the ruckus when I returned their quiz results, I was seriously doubting this career path, when Fate, that merry minx, interrupted with a phone call from a certain famous "comedy school":
Ms. Klisterschmuck, Director of Touring: Cleetus, you idiot.
Me: Ms. Klisterschmuck, my last name is Ferbderbler, not "you idiot."
Ms. K: Whatever. I need you to tour with 3rd World Co next Tuesday to Egypt.
After some heavy duty bargaining re; per diems! (I now know to demand more than $1.65 per day; this tour I'm getting $2.50! Score!).
After Cairo, we are scheduled to appear at something called Ebola Camp # 2, which should be a hoot.
All in all, quite a relief from drug counseling!
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
"Cleetus Ferbderbler, Speaks Out on Revolting Drug Addicts"
Dear Everyone,
Well, my terrifying descent into drug addiction (July 26--28th) yielded many interesting experiences, but none more terrifying than when I returned their dismal quiz results to my group of "ex" junkies.
Honestly, drug addicts have a rather poor reputation: You would think they'd appreciate an honestly-graded written quiz.
The revolt began with Doc (everything in group is completely confidential; however, I will hint that he has that name for a reason{if you need heart surgery in Evanston, consider going somewhere else; I'm just saying}.
"Um, Cleetus?"
"Yes, Doc?"
"Is there some reason you marked me down on the frequency of bus service to Humboldt Park question?"
"Yes, Doc, there is: You wrote 'My Benz does my biz,' which was not the question; as a graduate of Princeton, I expected better of you."
There was a bit of a kerfuffle: Many in the group did not appreciate having an Ivy Leaguer in their midst. Even my degree in improvisation and cooking from Valdosta Community College raised a few eyebrows.
We then broke for coffee, and surprisingly, no one returned.
How fickle drug addicts can be!
Well, my terrifying descent into drug addiction (July 26--28th) yielded many interesting experiences, but none more terrifying than when I returned their dismal quiz results to my group of "ex" junkies.
Honestly, drug addicts have a rather poor reputation: You would think they'd appreciate an honestly-graded written quiz.
The revolt began with Doc (everything in group is completely confidential; however, I will hint that he has that name for a reason{if you need heart surgery in Evanston, consider going somewhere else; I'm just saying}.
"Um, Cleetus?"
"Yes, Doc?"
"Is there some reason you marked me down on the frequency of bus service to Humboldt Park question?"
"Yes, Doc, there is: You wrote 'My Benz does my biz,' which was not the question; as a graduate of Princeton, I expected better of you."
There was a bit of a kerfuffle: Many in the group did not appreciate having an Ivy Leaguer in their midst. Even my degree in improvisation and cooking from Valdosta Community College raised a few eyebrows.
We then broke for coffee, and surprisingly, no one returned.
How fickle drug addicts can be!
Monday, July 29, 2013
"Cleetus Ferbderbler, Boy Improvisor, Drug Counselor"
Dear Everyone,
My drug counseling group is getting a little unfocused---last evening, they talked about something called "goofballs" for over an hour. At first, I thought they were being rude to me, but later figured out it was nothing personal.
I've decided to give them a written quiz tonight. Here is the quiz (please don't share with any known drug addicts, as that might give some of the junkies an unfair advantage).
1. What is a "goofball?"
2. How often do busses run to Humboldt Park?
3. Why are drugs bad?
4. A "spike" is:
Stay tuned for the educational results!
My drug counseling group is getting a little unfocused---last evening, they talked about something called "goofballs" for over an hour. At first, I thought they were being rude to me, but later figured out it was nothing personal.
I've decided to give them a written quiz tonight. Here is the quiz (please don't share with any known drug addicts, as that might give some of the junkies an unfair advantage).
1. What is a "goofball?"
2. How often do busses run to Humboldt Park?
3. Why are drugs bad?
4. A "spike" is:
- A baseball bat.
- A derogatory racial slur.
- A drug thingy.
Stay tuned for the educational results!
Thursday, July 25, 2013
"Cleetus Ferbderbler, Boy Improvisor, Quells Insurrection"
Dear Everyone,
Last night at my new job counseling recovering drug addicts, there was a smidgeon of unpleasantness.
Big Spike (his real name, by the way), who, during the day is a highly respected member of some
commodities trading firm, raised his hand.
I interrupted my recounting of my hellish 4 hours kicking H to acknowledge him.
"Yes?" I said coolly.
"No offense, Chief, but exactly how long were you riding the white pony?"
"Well, Big Spike, it's a little hard to keep track of time when you're in that condition..."
"Because according to JUNKIE, which you read to us for about nine hours yesterday..."
"See what I mean, B. S. ? It was actually no longer than 25 or 30 minutes..."
"It takes two hits a day for two months to DEVELOP a habit: page 115."
The group looked at me dubiously; junkies are so paranoid.
"Inflation, B.S. That book was written in the '50's, when eggs were 2 cents apiece; things have changed. Now you can get hooked, seek help and kick in ten days."
The group nodded; I had regained my authority. B.S. slunk out.
STAY TUNED! and D.A.R.E.!
Last night at my new job counseling recovering drug addicts, there was a smidgeon of unpleasantness.
Big Spike (his real name, by the way), who, during the day is a highly respected member of some
commodities trading firm, raised his hand.
I interrupted my recounting of my hellish 4 hours kicking H to acknowledge him.
"Yes?" I said coolly.
"No offense, Chief, but exactly how long were you riding the white pony?"
"Well, Big Spike, it's a little hard to keep track of time when you're in that condition..."
"Because according to JUNKIE, which you read to us for about nine hours yesterday..."
"See what I mean, B. S. ? It was actually no longer than 25 or 30 minutes..."
"It takes two hits a day for two months to DEVELOP a habit: page 115."
The group looked at me dubiously; junkies are so paranoid.
"Inflation, B.S. That book was written in the '50's, when eggs were 2 cents apiece; things have changed. Now you can get hooked, seek help and kick in ten days."
The group nodded; I had regained my authority. B.S. slunk out.
STAY TUNED! and D.A.R.E.!
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
"Cleetus Ferbderbler, Boy Improvisor, Talks Tough"
Dear Everyone,
I had my first "group" session as a drug counselor yesterday! So excited.
I opened with a frank account of my harrowing descent into drug addiction last week---the long bus rides to Humboldt Park looking to "score" with my "connection. " Actually, the group was very interested in that part---lots of questions, and gossip about various interesting experiences.
I thought we were getting a little off-topic, so I brought out the bible: JUNKIE, by William S. Burroughs, borrowed from the Chicago Public Library. I read aloud for about 25 minutes this classic account of the scourge of drugs, circa 1952.
Some of the group were looking a little sleepy, so we adjourned; I invited people to stay for coffee and more sharing, but everyone had someplace to go.
ONE DAY AT A TIME!
I had my first "group" session as a drug counselor yesterday! So excited.
I opened with a frank account of my harrowing descent into drug addiction last week---the long bus rides to Humboldt Park looking to "score" with my "connection. " Actually, the group was very interested in that part---lots of questions, and gossip about various interesting experiences.
I thought we were getting a little off-topic, so I brought out the bible: JUNKIE, by William S. Burroughs, borrowed from the Chicago Public Library. I read aloud for about 25 minutes this classic account of the scourge of drugs, circa 1952.
Some of the group were looking a little sleepy, so we adjourned; I invited people to stay for coffee and more sharing, but everyone had someplace to go.
ONE DAY AT A TIME!
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Cleeuts Ferbderbler, Boy Improvisor, Announces new Career Path
Dear Everyone,
Since becoming clean and sober last week ( by the way, when they say unlimited free gourmet coffee,
they actually mean, after 3 pots, they start looking at you funny. I'm just saying),
I've become a drug counselor.
If you find your life careening out of control, I hope you'll consider joining me in the path of sobriety
and
FREE UNLIMITED GOURMET COFFEE.
It's such a relief; those bus rides to Humboldt Park took forever.
Since becoming clean and sober last week ( by the way, when they say unlimited free gourmet coffee,
they actually mean, after 3 pots, they start looking at you funny. I'm just saying),
I've become a drug counselor.
If you find your life careening out of control, I hope you'll consider joining me in the path of sobriety
and
FREE UNLIMITED GOURMET COFFEE.
It's such a relief; those bus rides to Humboldt Park took forever.
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