Gene's blog of things that he has probably blogged about elsewhere.

The Comedy Death Ray 300th show mini marathon was the nudge my body needed to topple off the edge into a horrible cold. Seriously, this cold is like having jackbooted soccer hooligans camped out in my head and throat stomping around, puking and generally damaging property and threatening passersby.

I’ve been working on the ragged edge for a while now, doing shows, seeing shows, writing, partying, open-mic’ing and now the bill has come due in the form of Val Kilmer in Tombstone-esque lung butter production. Aches? Pains? Oh yeah, I got those too. I think I SPRAINED MY HEAD coughing. I had no idea that was even possible.

I’ve been trying to record and edit voiceovers for a video I’ve been working on and although a dude that sounds like Suzanne Pleshette after a pack or three of Viceroys is hilarious, I doubt the client will be pleased at all to hear my gradual descent into terminal tuberculosis.

Anyway, those reading this on AST (I cross post this blog from my blogger blog) are almost certainly aware of the four-hour plus Comedy Death Ray 300th show mini marathon. I made Irish shortbread cookies for the box office staff, green room, and to enjoy during the show (and yes they were badass, thank you for asking). My cold was just starting to ramp up during the post-show schmooze. Add to that the fact that I was exhausted tired made for me being just slightly fever-y and not at all there. I headed back into the green room to get my serving platter I brought cookies on and say hey to folks. B.J. Porter, Jon Daly, and Brett Gelman were there and a couple of other people. I shook some hands and here’s the part I’m fuzzy on; I might have blown off shaking hands with Michael Cera (Juno, Superbad). I might be a bit cold-medicine addled and remembering wrong, but I have it nagging in the back of my head. I wasn’t intentionally being rude. Sorry fella.